The fake, everyone called him. However, Molly knew he wasn't a fake. Molly knew lots of things - things she wished she could share, but she had promised never to speak of them. It didn't make life hard for her; not really, no. It was depressing though and always, she found herself sitting in front of her laptop with an unfinished document that held most of the secrets she dare not share with anyone. It would be so easy to finish the document and post it on her blog - maybe even send the post to John in an email, but it would still be considered breaking a promise. A promise she had made to both Jim Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes.
I won't tell anyone, she had told them. Not at the same time, mind you. I promise.
"Speaking of John..." She spoke aloud, almost as if she were talking to the dead body resting neatly upon a metal table in the center of the room. Honestly, Molly would find herself mumbling a thing or two to the dead, but she couldn't help it. The dead didn't bother her and she didn't talk much to other people - people who were alive, of course.
Even without Sherlock, John worked for D.I. Lestrade and on occasion, he would come by the morgue to investigate a murder victim. It probably wasn't the same for him, without Sherlock by his side, but he continued to do it nonetheless. Molly had no idea why, as he seemed lonely while he worked. Anyway, she had remembered he was scheduled to come in today - to check out the body of one Alex Miller.
Alex wasn't in the room yet. The body currently in the room belonged to Josephine Williams and Molly had just finished working on her before she allowed herself to space and think about Sherlock, Jim, and John. Oh, she hated when she did that - allow herself to think about them. Thinking about Sherlock made her think of John (and all the guilt she felt). And Jim...
Well, she always thought about Jim.
And every time she did, her thoughts were accompanied by a cold shiver.
She turned promptly on her heel and headed to the front of the metal table, where she proceeded to wheel Josephine out of the room.
John would be here any moment, she presumed. So, she would need to get Alex.
When she returned with Alex, she parked the table in the same spot Josephine had been resting in, but left to finish paperwork at her desk. She would wait until John arrived.