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Two days after Sherlock woke up as a vampire Molly returned to work. Jacob had promised to check on Sherlock and come over immediately if Sherlock needed anything, but so far Sherlock had learned the basics quite well. Molly felt comfortable enough leaving him in her flat, and she had reasoned that he was always a phone call away if she started worrying about it. She got off the lift and made her way to the morgue. She stepped inside and found it to be colder than usual. This was strange, because normally cold didn't bother her. But this cold seeped in her bones.
“Boo,” she heard a familiar and unwelcome voice say from her right. She started slightly and turned to look in that direction. Her eyes widened as she saw Jim Moriarty standing there, looking exactly as he had when she'd dropped him on the ground after he'd been shot, complete with bullet hole in the chest and blood stain on his shirt.
“You're supposed to be dead!” she said, shocked.
“Well, I certainly wasn't going to Heaven, and Lucifer was fairly sure I'd take over Hell if I stayed there long enough so I'm stuck here,” he said, moving towards her. “Consider me your very own ghost.”
“Damn,” she murmured. She had hoped that the day on the rooftop would be the last time she ever had to deal with him. It was as though the cosmos were playing a huge joke on her, and it was in very poor taste.
When he got close enough she tentatively reached out to touch him. Her fingers went right through his shoulder, and he glanced down before glaring at her. “I'm not solid. That was part of the agreement when I was kicked out of Hell. They thought I would cause less trouble that way. And while you get to walk around I'm stuck at this damn hospital for the rest of eternity.” Then he grinned a feral grin. “So I'm just going to have to make the best of it and haunt you as long as possible.”
Molly groaned. This was a punishment worse than death, worse than being turned into a vampire. She needed to keep this job for as long as she was able to, and that meant she was going to have to deal with Moriarty on a fairly regular basis. This was going to be her own personal hell. “Let me guess. I'm the only one who can see you since it's my fault you're dead?”
He shook his head, moving forward so he walked through her. Ice filled her veins as he passed, and then the sensation was over once he got to her other side. She spun around to face him again. “Well, you're the only one who can hear me. Anyone who's sensitive enough can see me. I scared an old lady into having a heart attack yesterday.” He paused. “That was actually rather amusing.”
“You really are a sadist,” she said, glaring at him.
“You're just now figuring that out?” he said with a smirk. “I mean, I did kill your boyfriend two days ago after trying to force you to do it. And don't forget, I tried to hurt you, too, for not cooperating.”
“He's not dead,” she said.
“Well, he certainly isn't in any room in this hospital, and my man has a fairly good track record of making sure the people he shoots die,” he said with a frown. Then realization dawned on him. “You turned him, didn't you?”
“He told me to,” she said.
He made a “tsk-tsk-tsk” sound. “But still. That's incredibly selfish of you, Molly. You sentenced him to a fate just as bad as your own.”
“It was what he wanted!” she snapped. “And it's all your fault anyway. If you hadn't wanted to play that stupid game you'd be alive too.”
He started to reply but then he blinked and closed his mouth. She smirked at him as he finally realized the truth. “Damn,” he murmured.
“See?” She made her way to the office, opening up the door hard. He walked in right after her. “At least in a few years I'll be rid of you. You're going to be stuck here and it's all your own damn fault.”
“Well, then I'm just going to make the best of our years here together,” he said as he crossed his arms. “Maybe I can drive you mad before you have to scurry away from London.”
“I highly doubt you will be able to do that, even if you're already becoming an annoying prat,” she said, sitting in her chair. She pulled out her mobile phone and pulled up Sherlock's contact. She spoke the minute he picked up. “You aren't going to believe the surprise I came to at work.”
“Is that Sherlock?” Moriarty asked, raising his voice. “You're actually going to complain about me while I'm in the same room?”
“Is that Moriarty?” Sherlock asked, his voice incredulous.
“Oh my God, you can hear him?” Molly replied, shocked.
“But he's dead,” he replied.
“Put him on speakerphone,” Moriarty said.
“I will do no such thing, Jim. I want some privacy,” she said to Moriarty.
“How is that possible?” Sherlock asked. “He's dead. You said Jacob disposed of his body.”
“Yeah, well, Heaven didn't want him and Hell was afraid he'd take over so now the hospital's stuck being haunted by him,” she grumbled. “And he's going to make my life hell.”
“Gleefully, too,” Moriarty said with a smirk.
“Oh, do shut up,” Molly said with an exasperated sigh. “Anyway, some people can see him, but apparently no one could hear him except me, and apparently you, too.”
“This poses some problems,” Sherlock said.
“Tell me about it. The man whose death I'm responsible for is taking perverse pleasure in trying to drive me batty.”
“And I'm going to try for months. Years, even,” Moriarty said.
Molly glared at him. “Is there any chance you can try and do some research to see if we can reverse this? Get him to haunt some place other than this hospital?”
“I don't want to leave until you're certifiably insane,” Moriarty replied.
“I can call Jacob and see what he can do,” Sherlock said. “In the meantime, is there anything you can do to ignore his presence?”
“He's making that damn near impossible. But I do have my iPod and earbuds in my purse. I can simply stop dictating my results for my notes and try and drown him out.”
“I'll find other ways to bother you,” Moriarty said with a shrug.
“I'm fairly sure you will,” she replied, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of her nose. This was honestly the most frustrating conversation she'd had in a long time, trying to talk to one man while trying to ignore another who was making that damn near impossible.
“Do what you need to do now. I'll call Jacob now and see what we can do to help alleviate your problem there.”
“Thank you,” she said gratefully. “I'll see you when I get home.”
“All right. I love you, Molly.”
She grinned, despite everything. It was still strange to hear him say it, but very welcome. “I love you too, Sherlock.” Moriarty began making gagging noises and she glared at him. “You. Shut it.”
“Put your earbuds in, turn your music up and ignore him,” Sherlock said.
“I will,” she said. “Bye, Sherlock.” She hung up and looked at Moriarty. “Keep your comments on my personal life to yourself,” she said sternly.
“That's so treacly and stupid,” he said as he made a face. “Love is a weakness.”
She shook her head. “No, it's not. It's a strength.”
“If I have to endure lovey dovey conversations between the two of you I may find a way to escape this existence myself,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Things like that make me sick.”
“Then I'll make sure to have extended conversations like that with him every day while I'm at work,” she said with a smirk.
“You wouldn't.”
“Try me.” The two of them locked stares, and finally he looked away. She grinned. “You know, you can always avoid this place. Go scare some kids or something. I'm sure you'll find more things to occupy the endless amount of time you have than just bothering me.”
He narrowed his eyes towards her. “And just what are you going to do to get rid of me?”
“I was thinking I could always have phone sex on speakerphone,” she said with an evil grin.
“No,” he said, his eyes wide. “I'll leave you alone. For now. But this isn't over, Molly. You still have to deal with me, and I'll make you regret meeting me, mark my words.”
“Trust me, I already do.” He turned and she watched him walk right through the wall. Then she slumped down slightly and leaned back in her chair. She got the sinking suspicion that the worst was yet to come. She just hoped she could keep her sanity until some other solution was found.