Before
I was doing well before that night in the lab, really I was. Ever since he made that comment …that horrid comment… I don't believe he tries to hurt me with his comments. It's just how he is, voicing his observations and the like. But those times when he talks about my romantic life… Those comments hurt. He can say such hurtful things sometime and I don't know if he means to or not. But this time, I didn't get angry or upset.
"…I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship, Molly."
His words chipped at me, but I didn't get angry. I just resigned myself to getting on with work and hoped that it would distract me from this hollow feeling in my chest.
That was two months ago.
I stopped tripping over my words. Well, not really. I wasn't as talkative around him like before when I'd say anything to engage him in chit-chat. Of course, he'd have something to say about my stuttering, my jokes, or my choice of clothes. I tried to keep myself from offering coffee when he'd pop by. I don't think he noticed as he just went right along giving me his coffee order whether I mentioned it or not. I didn't even give a chipper "okay" every time he'd speak to me. I do think that one made a difference… He would be bent over a microscope or caught up with some clue or whatnot and not notice who he was speaking to. …Even called me "John" a few times. Though, okay…that one did start to bother me.
When I stopped to think about it, I felt… unimportant. Not that I'm an important person, but when Sherlock can't even notice who he's talking to and call them by their name… I feel horrible and used like the dozens of petri dishes he smashed last week when he said his experiment was contaminated and his time wasted.
I feel like my time is wasted. Sometimes, I feel like my life is wasted. So much of it wasted on a man who probably doesn't know or care that I feel like I'm of no more use to him than the microscope that has held his attention for the past half-hour.
Being this way has had its advantage though. I noticed something. I saw that look, that sadness. His normal coldness drops when he thinks John isn't looking and that sadness becomes so clear. I even had the guts to mention it to him. I guess since he doesn't really notice me, I could see this part of him. I walked away, mentioning some crisps and popping out of the lab before completely ruining it and saying something stupid.
There was this moment, after I told him I didn't count, when I felt like I had an out. He cares for John enough to hide his sadness from his friend. But not from me. I'm really not that important. He really doesn't care for me more than just my job title. He doesn't care for me…and it's probably the break I need to push away these feelings I still have for him.
But that was before.
I was locking up after my shift when his voice called out, startling me.
"You're wrong you know. You do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you."
I almost didn't believe it. He was telling me I mattered, I was right…he needed my help…
"What do you need?" I ask again.
"You."
That's all I needed to hear. I wasn't invisible anymore...he needed me.