A/N: Welcome to my first Sherlolly fanfic! I suppose it's going to be around the 20 chapters, maybe shorter, maybe longer. You can also find this fic on AO3. If you like what you read, please review, follow or favorite!

Update: I went over the whole fic in January 2016, corrected grammatical and vocabulary, as well errors in the story/timelines.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Sherlock Holmes, nor Sherlock, nor the BBC.

CHAPTER ONE

MOLLY HOOPER POV

'Sherlock?' her soft voice asked. He looked up from his book, he was reading about physics and the laws of Newton.

'Molly?' he said surprised. She looked exhausted, her hair was messy, her clothes were wrinkled, she didn't wear any make- up and she had brought a big suitcase with her.

'Yes?'

'What are you doing here?' he asked, putting his book aside. She was on the edge of crying.

'Well, I got kicked out. And I don't have anywhere to go, so I thought I could come to Baker Street.'

'Interesting idea, turning to me.' He mumbled. 'Kicked out by your ex- fiancé, you haven't got anyone so you decided to turn to Sherlock Holmes, "high functioning sociopath", who is definitely the most logical choice.' He pointed at John's chair. 'Sit down and talk.' She sat down. 'Why did you choose me and not John?'

'John and Mary aren't in a good place right now, you know that as well, Sherlock. I can't go to them, ask them if I can stay with them. That is way too awkward, for me and for them! They are barely talking to each other, thanks to your discovery.' Molly said. 'And John's room is free, so I thought…'

'You could stay here because of the spare room and my broken almost- engagement with Janine.' he said.

Mrs. Hudson came in with tea. 'Molly, dear! I didn't expect to see you, you should have called me, I would have made you tea too.'

'It doesn't matter, Mrs. Hudson.' she said quickly.

'What is the reason of your visit?' Mrs. Hudson asked while she gave Sherlock his tea.

'I am looking for a place where I can stay for a while. Tom and I broke our engagement a while ago, you know that, but we were still living together, we bought a house together and I couldn't leave until it was sold. But today, when I came home, there were four suitcases like this one, with all my clothes and personal belonging. He said it was time for me to leave, that he couldn't stand living with me any longer.'

Mrs. Hudson lay her hand on my shoulder. 'I am sorry, Molly. John's room is free, you are welcome if you want to stay here, it doesn't matter how long.'

Sherlock sighed, picked his book up again, but Molly smiled. 'Thank you so much, I am very grateful.'

'Are you joining us for dinner, Molly?' Mrs. Hudson asked. 'Do you want pasta or burrito's for dinner, Sherlock?'

'Yes, I'd love to.' She said simply.

'Pasta.' Sherlock mumbled. His phone rang, he picked it up. 'Yes? Hello. Of course, I am on my way!' he grabbed his coat. 'I have to go, Mrs. Hudson! I'll be on time for dinner, I promise!' and he was gone.

She sighed. 'That man… Shall I bring your tea upstairs, Molly?'

'Fine.' she said. 'I've got three other suitcases in the trunk of my car downstairs, so it will take some time to unpack.'

She was finished quite early with the unpacking but stayed in her room when she was done. It didn't feel quite right to sit downstairs in the living room. It was his flat, after all, she wasn't a permanent resident. But how bad he could make her feel sometimes, she wouldn't let Sherlock Holmes the reason of her unhappiness. Again. Not when she still was in love with him.

SHERLOCK POV
The phone call had just been John. John and Mary had gotten a dog recently, hoping it would help with the talking to each other. It didn't - but John needed someone who could walk the dog because he needed to leave for his late night shift and Mary's shift ended in two hours. Sherlock volunteered always to walk the dog. It was a Labrador named Grace, Sherlock had been amazed when John had told him he and Mary got a dog. John simply wasn't a dog- person, but clearly it worked out, he'd lost his 7 pounds by going running with the dog every day.
It was a short walk to John and Mary's flat, they lived near Baker Street, in a small house. John already stood outside.
'Sherlock!' he said relieved. 'She's very hyper today, so you have to walk for at least an hour.' He gave Sherlock the leash. 'Thank you so much, I have to go.'

He got on his bike and he was gone. Sherlock looked aghast at the leash in his hand. The dog sat on the pavement, waiting for him to move. He sighed. 'Come on Grace, let's go.'

They walked to the Regent's Park, where he undid the dog of its leash so it could run. Sherlock did what he always did in Regent's Park: he said down and spend time in his mind current occupation of his mind was the female that was currently staying at his flat. He'd always liked Molly, she'd always been the one who had mattered the most, but now she was so close. Maybe too close. He felt an emotion he couldn't really recognize.
He damned his emotions, they only got in the way- they always got in the way. It was fear, the fear of rejection. He was afraid Molly would reject, hate him when she would get to know him well. Molly was smart – maybe not smarter than he but they functioned on the same level- and kind. Different than Janine, his relationship with Janine hadn't been real, he liked her, just like John, but wasn't in love with her. Why was he comparing Janine with Molly? You simply couldn't compare these two women because they were so different.

It was fear, the fear of rejection. He was afraid Molly would reject, hate him when she would get to know him well. Molly was smart – maybe not smarter than he but they functioned on the same level- and she was kind. Unique. Different than Janine, his relationship with Janine hadn't been real, he liked her, just like John, but wasn't in love with her. Why was he comparing Janine with Molly? You simply couldn't compare these two women because they were so different.
He sighed. Love wasn't really his division, but he knew Molly had certain feelings towards him. And he knew she would look after him, trying to prevent him from relapsing again, falling back in his old drug- pattern. The last time had been for a case, maybe not really necessary, but he needed it after John's wedding – he realized it was indeed the end of an era. He remembered how mad Molly had been.

******************************
'Well? Is he clean?' John had asked.
Molly threw her gloves down and turned to John. 'Clean?' She turned over to face Sherlock, slapped him hard in the face. And again. And again, even harder. He just blinked.
'How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with? She said angrily. 'And how dare you betray the love the love of your friends? Say you're sorry.'
He held his face, it was turning a bit red. 'Sorry your engagement is over – though I'm fairly grateful for the lack of a ring.'
'Stop it, just stop it!' she said.
********************************

He had hurt her that day, and he regretted it. He regretted taking drugs again to numb his feelings, to numb the pain of the realization John would leave him now. Solving crimes were his way to stay clean, it was an alternative of getting high. But sometimes, even solving crimes didn't help. He was settled down on rock bottom after the wedding, smoking didn't help, sleeping didn't help, so he took the Smallwood case. He had a good excuse to be near drugs again.
Looking back, sitting on that bench in the park, he realized he made a mistake. He had so many people – should he call them friends or not?- around him who could have helped him, but he didn't ask for help. Grace came back to him, carrying a stick. She barked. Sherlock smiled and threw the stick away. 'Go and get it, Grace.' he mumbled.
He missed Redbeard on moments like this. His childhood dog passed away when he was 10, quite young. Mycroft had told him Redbeard went away to live in the valleys, thus, Sherlock investigated. His first case. 'The Disappearance of Redbeard the Dog'. And he did found out Redbeard passed away. He was put down. That it was the first time Sherlock realized he could be a detective, another kind of detective. A consulting detective. His phone buzzed an incoming text.

Listen, I am sorry for coming to you, if you want me to leave, I'll leave – MH

This was Molly, he was certain – Mycroft (the two just happened to have the same initials) wouldn't approach him like this.

Why would I want you to leave? - SH

Maybe because you like your privacy? I can stay somewhere else. I'm sure there is a cheap hotel somewhere in the suburbs that has still a free room - MH

Stay at Baker St. I apologize for my behavior – SH

Thank you, Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson says dinner is ready at 18:30, be on time, then we can catch Doctor Who on the telly – MH

What is exactly 'Doctor Who'? - SH

Oh, Sherlock. Just be there at 18:30 – MH

What was this Doctor Who thing? He looked it up on Wikipedia: "Doctor Who is a British science-fiction television series produced by the BBC from 1963 to the present day. The series depicts the adventures of the Doctor, a Time Lord—a time-traveling humanoid alien. He explores the universe in his TARDIS, a sentient time-traveling space ship. Its exterior appears as a blue British police box, which was a common sight in Britain in 1963 when the series first aired. Along with a succession of companions, the Doctor combats a variety of foes while working to save civilizations and help people in need."
It was her favorite show, he realized. She had talked to him about it, but he didn't listen. Why would a man who didn't know about the earth and the sun care about a science- fiction TV- series?
But he did now. He tried to store as much information as possible on his mind palace about the show, so he could show off.
'Sherlock, I thought we had discussed the showing off.' He heard John's voice saying in the back of his mind. 'Shut up John.' he mumbled.
Grace was tired after an hour in the park, so he went back to Baker Street with her because Mary would pick the dog up there when she was done with work.
It began raining, it was pouring.
'Sherlock, we are upstairs!' Mrs. Hudson called, he already could smell the pasta. He sighed, tried to fix his hair, but the wind and rain had ruined it.
He undid himself of his wet coat and went upstairs. It looked almost domestic, Molly and Mrs. Hudson were laughing, talking happily.

'Sherlock, dear, welcome. Does Grace want some water?' Mrs. Hudson asked. Sherlock just nodded and sat down next to Molly, his plate already filled with pasta.

'How was your walk?' she asked politely.

'Rainy.' he answered. 'Grace liked it, I hope.'

'Listen, Sherlock, I am sorry for invading your privacy.' Molly said. 'I should have called first, maybe someone different. I am sure Greg would know a place I can stay.'

'Greg?' he said.

'Lestrade. 'Molly said.

'Molly Hooper, you aren't invading my privacy.' Sherlock answered. 'You needed someone to save you.'

'I am not that desperate.' she said.

'Yes you are desperate in a way, you need someone who can think as fast as you can, who can understand you, who can give you shelter.' Sherlock said.

'You're sometimes so ignorant!' Molly said. 'My goodness, I don't need anyone, you don't need anyone, we're adults! I am not desperate.'

'But I am.' he said. 'If you don't mind, check in on me once in a while, relapsing is easy.'

'Mary's here!' Mrs. Hudson said, coming back with water for the dog and Mrs. Watson. Mary's short blonde hair was wet because of the rain, and she was already showing.

'Hi Mary!' Molly said. 'I am glad to see you.' she stood up and hugged the other woman.

'I am glad too, Molly. I heard you're living with Sherlock now.'

'Only for a while.' Molly assured her. 'I will try my best to find another place. I couldn't stay with Tom anymore, you know what happened. It was a good decision. And I am safe here.'

'We will help you,' Mary said. 'Thanks for walking Grace, Sherlock.'

He nodded, took another bite of his pasta. 'Anytime, Mary.'

'I've gotta go.' Mary said. 'Have a nice evening, and bon appetit.'

'Merci beaucoup,' Molly said. 'Au revoir, Mary.'
Mary smiled and left. 'I didn't know you speak French, Molly.' Sherlock said distantly.
'Oh yes, I've taken classes when I was in high school.'

'Interesting.' Sherlock said. 'I took a French course too, at university.'
Mrs. Hudson sat down and started talking about a boring show on the telly that he wasn't interested in. John said once it was possibly one of the most dangerous things, letting Sherlock Holmes watch crappy telly. After dinner, he picked up the physics book again and tried to focus. He was bored, though. What had happened to Molly? Why couldn't she stay with Tom anymore? He was too afraid to ask, too afraid to hurt her feelings if he did ask. There was something going on, and he had to find out what.