Author's Note: I'll be honest, I was never a huge fan of Sherlolly until Season 4 came out. I knew Molly loved Sherlock and I could see why (who wouldn't love Benedict Cumberbatch? I mean come on!), but I never could see Sherlock actually starting a romance. It was just not in his character in the first few seasons, but now he's grown as a character. ALSO! MOLLY FREAKIN HOOPER DESERVES A RESPECTFUL BETTER RESOLUTION THAN THE ENDING MOFFAT GAVE HER! So there. I love Molly Hooper. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Sherlock. They belong to the BBC, as does the cover image.

Sherlock stood outside Molly Hooper's door, trying to catch his breath. He hadn't been this nervous since giving the best man speech at John's wedding.

Calm down, he told himself. It's just Molly.

But that was exactly why this was going to be so difficult.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his fist and pounded on the door. He heard Molly's light footsteps come to the door, then stop. He smiled into the little peephole, waiting for her to open the door. She didn't.

"Molly?" he called. "I know you're there."

"Go away, Sherlock," she said hoarsely.

Sherlock looked down at his feet. "I know I don't deserve to come in..." he started.

"No, you don't," she said coldly.

"You didn't deserve that, Molly. I never..." he swallowed, trying to find the words.

"You never mean it, Sherlock. That's why it hurts. Because it happens all the time. After all these years, you haven't changed."

Sherlock winced painfully. "You deserve an explanation. You need to know why."

"And I suppose you're here to explain it all away so I feel better?" Molly snapped.

"No. I'm here to apologize. Give me five minutes, and after that...you never have to see me again if you don't want to," he added reluctantly. A cold silence came from the other side of the door. Sherlock gently placed a hand on the wood. "Molly, please. I can do it from out here, but there's something you need to see. It will, hopefully, make things a little easier to understand."

There was another moment of silence. Then, Molly unlocked the door and let him in. She wore the same clothes she had been wearing a few days ago when he had called, or, rather, Eurus had called. Her eyes were red from crying and she looked like she hadn't gotten any sleep. Sherlock had never seen her look so broken. He nodded his thanks and quickly went to her DVD player.

"Five minutes," she whispered, closing the door behind her.

"Ok, I'll do my best," Sherlock said. "I'm not that good with words, you know that. Which is why I'll show you this last bit in a minute." He stood and faced her. "There's a bit of backstory. I have a sister. Her name is Eurus."

Molly blinked, surprised. "Ok. I didn't know that."

"Neither did I until about a week ago. She's smarter than me or Mycroft, and criminally insane."

"Aren't you?" she shot back.

Sherlock hesitated, slightly taken aback by her attitude. "Not like her. She tortured me as a child, drowned my best friend, and set our house on fire. All on purpose. My parents were forced to institutionalize her at a maximum security prison for the sake of our own safety. I was so traumatized I blocked her from my memory. I also have a theory that from that point in time, I began to internalize all of my emotions in an attempt to get rid of them altogether."

Molly rolled her eyes and looked away. "Sounds about right," she muttered.

"So...skipping ahead several years, Eurus manipulates her way out of prison. For whatever reason, she decides to lure me to her prison to play some sort of mental exercise game with me and Mycroft. Like Moriarty but worse. She made it personal. At one point, she told me I had to choose either John or Mycroft to continue going through her maze. But I had to do that by killing the other one. Obviously, I pointed the gun at myself until she panicked and tranquilized all three of us."

"Obviously," Molly said sarcastically. "Two minutes of backstory, Sherlock. Get to the point."

He looked up at her with heartbroken eyes. "She used you," he said quietly. "You were part of her puzzle. A part of her lifelong plan to manipulate me to do whatever the hell she wanted me to do. Somehow she had cameras set up in your apartment..."

"What?" Molly looked around, startled. "How long have they been there? Were they recording the whole time?"

"Don't worry, they haven't been recording as far as I know, but I will personally destroy them on my way out." He took a deep breath. Don't get angry. It's ok, Molly's safe. Eurus is locked up. That part doesn't matter anymore. "Eurus broadcast those images into the prison for me to see. She said your house was rigged with bombs, and that you had to say the release code or..."

"Bombs?" Molly cried. "Alright, Sherlock, I'm a little alarmed now. Why has no one come to clear my house?"

"Ok, I think it's easier for you to watch from this point out. I took the security footage from Sherrinford and put it onto a DVD. Just...watch."

Molly shook her head in disbelief and turned to face the television. Sherlock pressed play and stepped back, pacing behind the couch.

"She's perfectly safe," Eurus said with a disarming smile. "For now. Her flat is rigged to explode in approximately three minutes unless I hear the release codes from her lips. I'm calling her on your phone, Sherlock. Make her say it."

"Say what?" John asked, confused. Sherlock closed his eyes and winced, inwardly cursing.

"Obvious, surely," Eurus said carelessly.

"No..." John said.

"Yes," Sherlock said, trying to remain calm but seething. He looked back at the coffin lid, where the words 'I love you' were clearly spotlighted. Silence fell over the three men as they realized the cruelty.

"Oh, one important restriction. You're not allowed to mention in any way at all that her life is in danger. You may not, at any point, suggest that there is any form of crisis. If you do, I will end this session and her life. Are we clear?"

Sherlock nodded briefly as the phone began to ring. Moriarty's voice whispered menacingly in the silence.

"Tick tock tick tock tick tock..."

Molly ignored her phone and began making tea.

"What's she doing?" Sherlock asked.

"She's making tea," Mycroft said.

"Yes, but why isn't she answering the phone?"

"You never answer your phone," John said.

"Yes, but it's me calling."

"Are you serious?" Molly asked. "Are you really that entitled to think that I always answer the phone if it's from you?"

Flustered, Sherlock gestured with his hands. "Well...I...look, in the moment I just desperately needed you to answer the phone for your own life's sake."

The phone went to voicemail, and Sherlock turned nervously in a circle, wondering what to do.

"Ok, ok," Eurus said condescendingly. "Just one more time."

"Come on, Molly, pick up," John whispered. "Just bloody pick up."

Molly looked at the phone for what seemed like forever until she finally picked up the phone. "Hello, Sherlock. Is this urgent because I'm not having a good day."

Sherlock looked up, obviously relieved. "Molly I just want you to do something very easy for me and not ask why."

Molly sighed and leaned against the counter. "Oh, God, is this one of your stupid games?"

"No, it's not a game," Sherlock said, carefully enunciating every word. "I need your help."

"Well, I'm not the lab."

"It's not about that."

"Well, quickly then." Sherlock hesitated, trying to find another way around it. "Sherlock," she said, exasperated. "What is it? What do you want?"

"Tick tock tick tock tick tock..."

"Is that Moriarty?" Molly asked, appalled.

"Another story, another day," Sherlock said quickly. "Listen."

"Molly, please, without asking why just say these words."

"What words?"

"I love you."

Molly looked down at her phone and stiffened in anger. "Leave me alone."

"Molly, no!" Sherlock cried, stepping towards the screen with arms outstretched. "Please, no! Do not hang up!"

"Calmly, Sherlock," Eurus sang. "Or I will finish her right now."

"Why are you doing this to me? Why are you making fun of me?"

"Please, I swear, you just have to listen to me," Sherlock promised.

"Softer, Sherlock," Eurus said.

"Molly," he said, trying to sound light when he was clearly panicking. "This is for a case. It's a sort of...experiment."

"I'm not an experiment," Molly said darkly. "Sherlock."

"No, no! I know you're not an experiment. You're my friend. We're friends, but..." He stopped, unable to speak as the clock was winding down. "But please, just say those words for me."

Molly shook her head, crying. "Please don't do this. Just...just...don't do it."

"It's very important. I can't say why," Sherlock said urgently upbeat. "But I promise you it is."

"I can't say that, I can't...I can't say that...to you."

"Of course you can, why can't you?"

"You know why."

"No, I don't know why."

Molly sniffed angrily. "Of course you do."

"Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tick tick..."

Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut in desperation. "Please. Just say it."

"I can't. Not to you."

"Why?"

"Because...because it's true," she whimpered, trying to breathe. She could barely get the words out. "Because it's true, Sherlock, it's always been true."

Sherlock didn't look surprised.

"Why are you making me watch this?" Molly asked, turning away and wiping the tears from her eyes. "I've relived this too many times already."

"So have I," Sherlock said quietly, looking out the window.

"Well if it's true, just say it anyway."

Molly laughed, but her eyes were cold. "You bastard."

"Say it anyway," Sherlock commanded.

"You say it," Molly shot back. "Go on. You say it first."

"What?" Sherlock was taken aback.

"Say it," she challenged him. "Say it like you mean it."

Sherlock looked panicked.

"Final thirty seconds," Eurus taunted.

Sherlock closed his eyes and swallowed, shaking as he tried to get the words out. "I...I love you."

He looked up, waiting to see if she would respond. But she just stood there, crying.

"I love you."

The words came out easily. Molly squeezed her eyes shut and held the phone to her mouth.

"Molly?" he asked, panicking. "Molly, please!"

"I love you," she whispered after eternity.

Everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief as the timer stopped shy of two seconds. Sherlock buried his head in his hands and bent over, breathing heavily.

Even Molly sighed. "I almost didn't say it on time."

"It was terrifying," Sherlock said, his voice cracking slightly. "And then the connection was cut off. I couldn't say anything else."

Molly stood and went to the door, opening it for him to leave. "You're five minutes are up."

"Should have bargained for ten," Sherlock muttered. "There's more," he said, pointing. "You need to see what happened next."

"Sherlock, however hard that was..." Mycroft began.

"Eurus, I won. I won." Silence. "Come on, the girl in the plane, I need to talk to her." Eurus smiled into the camera. "I won, I saved Molly Hooper," Sherlock insisted angrily.

Eurus laughed. "Saved her? From what? Oh, do be sensible, there were no explosives in her little house. Why would I be so clumsy?"

Molly looked at Sherlock in utter shock, but he couldn't face her. He gripped the back of her couch, jaw clenched and knuckles white.

"You didn't win. You lost. Look what you did to her. Look what you did to yourself." Sherlock turned away from the screen so he didn't have to see her. "All those complicated little emotions. I lost count. Emotional context Sherlock. It destroys you every time." Sherlock slammed the gun down next to the coffin. "Now please, pull yourself together. I need you in peak efficiency. The next one isn't going to be so easy." A metal door slid open on the other side of the room. "In your own time."

The screen went dark. John and Mycroft began walking out the door, but Sherlock carefully laid the lid on the coffin, trembling.

Molly paused the video and looked down at the floor.

"Easy?" she whispered. "That was easy?"

"No, of course not," Sherlock whispered.

"Are you sure those hidden cameras didn't keep recording because I would love for you to see exactly what that did to me. It would have made your sister very happy."

"Molly..."

"You owe me a new phone," she snapped. "I smashed mine to pieces. I threw everything off the countertops and screamed so loud that my neighbors called an ambulance. I cried for hours, Sherlock. Hours. I haven't slept and I've barely eaten."

She drew in a long, shaky breath. Sherlock walked over the DVD player and pressed play again.

"Sherlock," John began.

"No," Sherlock said, letting all his anger loose. "No!"

He slammed his fist into the coffin. Molly gasped. Screaming, Sherlock slammed the coffin into the table, over and over and over until he had smashed it to smithereens. John and Mycroft looked on from the doorway, letting him have his moment.

"It's not fair!" he yelled, kicking the splinters on the floor.

"No," John agreed softly.

"I didn't save her. I killed her. She has been through too. much. already," Sherlock seethed. "I have put her through too much pain and torture already." He turned and pointed at the camera. "That was not necessary!"

"She's not trying to hurt Molly, Sherlock," Mycroft said. "She's trying to hurt you."

"Other people should not be hurt because of me," Sherlock spat. "Not intentionally. Not again." He looked at John. "After Moriarty, I realized that. I swore it would never happen again if it was in my power."

"This wasn't in your power," John said.

"No. It was. I'm such an idiot. Of course there were no bombs in the flat." He picked up a loose board and smashed it over his knee. "I should have realized."

"Eurus manipulated you," Mycroft said.

"It doesn't matter."

"It wasn't really you. You didn't mean it," John said.

"Of course it was me."

Sherlock sat down and leaned up against the wall, breathing heavily. John walked over and picked up the gun from the debris. He went to Sherlock but remained standing.

"Look, I know this is difficult, and I know you're being tortured. But you have got to keep it together."

"This isn't torture, this is vivisection. We're experiencing science from the perspective of lab rats."

The video ended. Molly crossed her arms and looked up at the ceiling closing her eyes and focusing on breathing.

"I was an arse," Sherlock said. "I know this. I should have realized what Eurus was doing sooner. I deserved that torture, but not you." He sniffed and steadied himself on the couch. "I am truly, deeply, sorry."

"I think I would rather be alone just now," Molly said, looking up and smiling thinly. "I need time to think. Get the cameras and leave."

Nodding, Sherlock slowly went and collected the cameras from the corners of the room. Molly remained motionless, squeezing her eyes shut and blinking back tears. When he had found them all, he laid them on the counter.

"You can destroy them yourself, and the DVD, if it makes you feel better."

"Nothing can ever make this feel better, Sherlock," she said, her voice breaking.

He sighed heavily. "Do you understand the significance of the last bit?" he asked.

"If you're implying that you hurt worse than I did..." Molly began.

"No, that's not what I'm saying. Molly, I'm not good with words or emotions. I never have been. But even I know that is not how it's supposed to go."

"Please go," Molly whispered.

Sherlock bit his lip. "I can't leave without letting you know that I meant it."

"What?" She looked up at him almost incredulously.

"I'm a good actor, Molly. I can do a lot of disguises, deceive a lot of people, and accomplish a lot under pressure that I never thought I could do. But not that."

"You've got to be joking," Molly quavered.

"I'm not. I promise I'm not making fun of you. I'm not trying to make you feel better. Or worse," he added. "I'm not that good of an actor. Not without practicing first. I don't believe I've ever said those words before. Not to anyone, not even to my parents. And definitely not to my psychotic siblings."

"What," Molly swallowed hard, "words?"

Sherlock took a step closer. "I love you," he whispered with all the tenderness in the world. Molly felt her insides break and covered her eyes with her hand. "I don't know how or why you've loved me for so long," he continued, blinking back tears. "And I don't know why I didn't see it sooner. Actually, no. I did see it a long time ago. But I was too scared to react."

A sob exploded as Molly gasped for air and Sherlock pulled her into his arms. She buried her head in his chest, hearing his heart beat fast and feeling him tremble against her.

"I didn't exactly grow up in the most loving environment. I am an absolute idiot and completely blind when it comes to these things. Eurus was right about one thing. Emotional context does destroy me, just not in the way she thought." They stood for a moment in silence. "Ok, you're not saying anything, is that a good thing or a bad one?"

She leaned back and tried to look at him but could hardly see. Sherlock placed his hands on her cheeks and gently wiped away the tears, his own eyes shining.

"Molly? Please say something."

Molly shook her head. "I...I...can't," she choked, trying to breathe.

Sherlock held her tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," he whispered. "I'll leave now. I won't come again unless you ask."

"No," Molly gasped, leaning back again.

He frowned slightly. "You don't hate me and never want to see me again?" he asked, confused.

"Please stay," she whispered.

"Really?"

"Really."

She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her. Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him, long and slow, their hearts syncronizing and beating as one.

"I can't believe I just did that," she gasped, pulling away slightly.

"Well," Sherlock said, breathing deeply. "That's different."

"You mean from Janine and Irene Adler?" Molly teased, giving him a pointed glance.

"Well in my defense that has been my only experience. Although I never actually kissed Irene." He smiled down at her. "I suppose it's different when you love someone, isn't it?"

"Yes," Molly laughed happily, fresh tears beginning to fall. "Yes it is. I know you know this already, but I would like to say it of my own free will now." She took another deep breath and smiled gently. "I do love you, Sherlock Holmes."

"And I love you, Molly Hooper." He leaned down and kissed her again. "That's the way it's supposed to go, isn't it?"

"Yes," Molly smiled. "That's perfect."