Sure. Why not? (Warnings for the following fic being very, very dark indeed.)
“You can’t do anything Molly,” Greg said, giving a sigh and rubbing at his temple.
“That’s the problem!” she snapped, tapping her foot impatiently, curling in against herself. Never had she felt so useless.
“It’s been five months – there aren’t any clues – no real leads. It’s been declared unsolved.”
And that was supposed to comfort her? “He’s out there,” she said softly. “I know he is. I can’t just sit about and do nothing. There has to be something I can do, Greg!”
“There is nothing!” Greg said his voice almost a shout. He sank forward, fixing his eyes on hers. His features were sunken with defeat. “Sherlock’s gone, Molly. We can’t do anything about it.”
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