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It was a cold night and a light drizzle fell from the clouds that made their way across the dark sky, hiding the stars and the moon from the few people who were forced to or tough enough to leave their warm homes or one of London’s many pubs that New Year’s Eve.
A harsh wind tore at her damp clothes and played with her hair that was held up by an elastic. The petite brunette froze so much that she’d lost any feeling in her toes and fingertips, leaving her trembling and shivering on the roof of St. Bartholomew’s hospital while she, with empty eyes, stared at that one spot.
The spot where it had ended.
Where /he/ had ended.
Almost hesitantly she took a few steps forward, closer to the edge. Silently she watched the people passing by on the sidewalk many meters below her. Molly meant to recognize a few of them by the way they walked or what they wore. Her colleague Paul, wearing that hideous neon green hat. Someone who could have been Elissa from staff management.
An unexpected gush of air rushed into her white lab coat, raising it up into the cold air behind her. The pathologist could see her breath, a soft mist that rose up from her pale parted lips and nose, dancing and twirling for a brief while before it dissolved and became part of the wind. Internally she’d been so restless these past few days, after months of lethargy and apathy but now she felt more at peace than ever before in this horrible last year.
The brunette watched how first her right and then her left foot came to rest just in the spots his had so many months ago but at the same time the pain was as present as it had been that awful day. In that moment when she’d seen John for the first time, wrapped in one of those orange shock blankets, and had seen the emptiness in his usually so kind and warm eyes. Not the slightest sign of his usual smile with which he’d greet her.
No one saw her up there. Nobody raised their head because of the light rain that was so typical for London. And she was grateful for it. She didn’t want attention, she didn’t want to be held back by anyone but one person and he couldn’t do that anymore because he was sleeping six feet under a few kilometers away from her right now. And she'd made her decision, just like he had.
Her heartbeat was slow, regular, her breath calm as she stared down at the wet pavement so deep down there.
Molly glanced to her right for the split of a second, almost sure that she caught a glimpse of blue-green eyes that fixed her, before her gaze flickered to her left, meeting the one of dark eyes, of black irises that seemed to consume the pupils they surrounded, that weren’t really there for anyone but her.
A barely recognizable smile found its way onto her lips which seemed almost purple due to the cold.
Molly Hooper took a deep breath, raised her arms up slowly and closed her eyes, their soft hazel being hidden by her eyelids when she finally let go.
Falling was just like flying.