This is my first attempt at 'Sherlolly' and I know that it's rather short but I wanted to get a feel of the characters and how to have them bond before I write anything too detailed.
Of course, it had to be hurt/comfort.
I apologise in advance for any mistakes.
"I made a mistake," Sherlock's uncharacteristic admission was made in the form of a child-like whimper as he leant his clammy forehead against Molly's lilac dressing gown clad upper arm, the pathologist having perched on his lap after making sure that he was settled. Sherlock squeezed his eyes closed as he swallowed roughly, his arms shifting to wrap tightly around Molly's waist as he hid his face with her soft clothing, a single tear falling from his eyelash, "I'm sorry." He whispered, his voice tight as though he was struggling to push the words around the metaphorical lump in his throat.
"Sherlock," John spoke up from where he was seated on Molly's sofa beside Mary, their fingers entwined as he gently ran his thumb over hers, his attention focused on his upset friend despite the fact that his view of him was mostly blocked by Molly. The quadruple were currently in Molly's flat, the female doctor having phoned John when Sherlock had appeared on her doorstep dishevelled and clearly upset in the early hours of the morning, his Belstaff wreaking of alcohol, "you did the right thing coming here."
"I did?" The detective questioned, the uncertainty in his tone making John's heart twinge as he raised his watery eyes to Molly for confirmation.
"Yes, Sherlock," Molly assured him in a soft voice with an accompanying nod of the head as he reached out a hand to caress his mussed curls, "you did." Sherlock's gaze danced around the room, jumping from person to person, not lingering for more than a second. He closed his eyes again as Molly's fingers combed systematically through his curls, stropping to scratch his scalp intermittently. "Sherlock, stop." Molly cooed as another tear escaped, followed by another, and another.
Sherlock's breathing had become ragged, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he leant forwards, trying, again, to bury his face in her dressing gown. Molly stopped him, carefully cupping his cheek with her right hand as her left continued to stroke his hair, she gently placed a kiss on his forehead.
"Don't hide from us, Sherlock." Molly whispered. "You don't need to hide from us. You don't need to be ashamed." Sherlock's trembling hands moved once more, grasping hold of her fluffy pyjamas, bunching it tightly into his fists as he hiccoughed. His eyes remained screwed closed as Molly removed her hand from his hair and carefully wiped away his tears with her thumbs.
Thank you for reading and sorry, again, that it's so short.
As always, feedback is welcome, and I'd love to know if you want me to write anymore Sherlolly fanfiction - longer ones of course.
ibelieveinguardianangels