ALWAYS & NEVER

Synopsis: It was an attempt - a mere peek into what could be if only he let it. Moments with Molly through the eyes of Sherlock Holmes. Spoilers for The Empty Hearse.

A/N: I think I wanted to write this for several different reasons, one that might have stemmed from the Sherlolly bit of the meta I wrote yesterday (on Tumblr: sincerelydayyy dot tumblr dot com slash 72111715643 slash the-empty-hearse-a-dissection) but I think the episode itself really solidified my need to try this approach. I hope you like it.

much love,

day

If beauty sits the child's kiss
Of laughter I amend
Can you catch her if she runs?

With this I would share with you
All of this count to no end - Coheed & Cambria

Molly Hooper.

She was his friend. He had addressed this mentally for days on in whenever he found a slight pause in the nights when he was doing recon on a place while dismantling the network. He was hesitant to ever do such a thing, for fear that he would miss something else. This was the matter at hand however, he had missed something nearly crucial because he wasn't looking properly. He hadn't been looking at Molly. Not in the way that he probably should have.

It had never occurred to him to do that. He didn't do relationships. Not in the sense that every normal person expected. He didn't see anything the way other people did and for his part he could admit that it hurt him in certain instances. Many instances that correlated with the woman in question.

He had hurt her before and this was something he had settled in his mind to not do again. It was the look on her face that stirred something in him the most. Every little break in her usually chirper expression made it harder for him to try to fix it. He had to fix it, this was nothing but the truth but it wasn't the whole truth.

If it hadn't been for John's anger towards him he feared that perhaps he would have never been able to see this through. His day out with Molly. His day of exploring all the avenues that he could when it came to her even if it wasn't entirely transparent but at the end perhaps, he started to be.

It hadn't started off in the way he hoped originally. When he texted her to ask her to come to Baker Street. He stood by the window waiting, anxious and nervous for about forty minutes before he heard her quiet foot steps as she made her way up to 221B and him ultimately. The last time he had seen her wasn't too long ago. Nearly a whole day. He eyes turning in her direction but not fully for he was still trying to decide how this was all going to work. He didn't know what he was doing really. But, he was trying wasn't he? Trying to make an attempt of something more.

He couldn't say that it was just because he was tired of harming his dear pathologist, that was a large part of it. It also wasn't because John wasn't around. He had decided to finally use the option of her joining him outside of the lab. It was about time. He could hear John in his head telling him that.

When her quiet voice broke into the silence of the room he immediately turned to her with a loud exclamation that he hoped oozed enthusiasm for her being here. Her agreeing to meet him. A small part of him still hoped that she could be around him and be happy.

He took tentative steps in her direction, "Molly..." He started, "Yes?" It was as he looked at her that he realized the reality of the situation. He was going to spend a day with Molly Hooper for a day, on his own. This wasn't something that had ever crossed his mind but he felt oddly jittery about it. "I was wondering if you'd like too..." He stopped, inhaling a little as he peered down for a moment trying to decide how he wanted to word it. This was much more difficult than he had thought. He had come up with a plan for this albeit slight yet now he couldn't simply say it.

'C'mon Holmes! It's just Molly...' He looked back up to her and asked the rest of the question which fumbled slightly as Molly's own assumption filtered through the air along with it. Dinner? She had asked about going out to dinner.

Sherlock's mouth flicked up a slightly as he stared at her. She made a little noise that could have been heard as a giggle but he knew that she was nervous being around him. He knew exactly why. He had noticed yesterday but he didn't comment on it. This was not the time for that. Nor, did he particularly want to. He needed to smooth things over first. That could come later if it absolutely must.

She gave him a smile and he felt a little bit better about this excursion. It moved along fairly quickly. He slipped into his room, to don his suit jacket and get out of his dressing gown and put on shoes. He returned and the first set of clients began to filter in. Sherlock took in a deep breath before gesturing for the pair to begin their telling of why they were seeking his help. Molly interrupted him as he walked in her direction. She seemed unsure and it was his job in this moment to put her mind at ease. She was not John, nor would she ever be. She was Molly Hooper, a friend, with a background in pathology and biology that at times surprassed his own. She didn't need to be anyone else. That was not what this was about to him.

"John usually takes notes..." He heard her say. He sat down next to her and replied hurriedly, "If it makes you comfortable." She started to make a notion that she was supposed to be John and he was quicker to deflate that statement. "You just have to be yourself, Molly." He saw how relieved she looked and the smile that surfaced on her face but he didn't comment on it as they weren't alone and he had clients waiting to be helped.

The first of them ended rather quickly. Molly was a silent witness to his genius and it nearly warmed him during the second bout to see her look of surprise when he looked over at her after consoling a woman who had clearly been wronged by someone close to her unknowingly. He mentioned the word love. It wasn't entirely on purpose. That was what this was all about, wasn't it? The case, and small bit of association that he had often tried to disregard in Molly's part. She was what he connected with the word.

Her devotion towards him was something of a constant in his life. Something he wholly enjoyed having even if in the past he seemed to find it annoying. He counted on it. He counted on her presence. He looked over to her at first to show her how appalled he was at what had come out of his mouth only to see the look on her face and he immediately got up and strode over to her. His gaze didn't soften in fact he barely looked at her as he begins to spew the deductions lowly to her being sure to keep it quiet. "Stepfather posing as online boyfriend." ("What?") "Breaks it off, breaks her heart. Swears off relationships, stays home..."

He isn't entirely sure why he felt inclined to speak them too her but he swiftly turns around and unleashes his underlying rage at such a foul man that is in his company while Molly watches on. A part of hopes she knows that he is doing this with good reason. Her being a part of it only seems to stem from coincidence, yet he also feels like he's telling her something. Something that she should already realize but what could that be? Silly. He sighs, as Molly stands up to aid the young woman out of the room and away from her stepfather. She chances a glance at Sherlock but he's in a shouting match with the man who looks to be about to hit him.

Molly feels a little shaky once she comes back to see Sherlock with his phone out. "Fancy a stroll, Molly? Lestrade has a crime scene he'd like us to look at?" Us. He said that.

He doesn't stop moving though as he slips his phone in his pocket and begins to head out, grabbing his coat and scarf by the door. Molly quickly puts on her own outerwear before rushing after him. He is polite enough to wait for her by the door. Opening it and allowing her through before he closes it and they begin to walk.

It isn't too far from Baker Street. It doesn't entire matter really. He does prefer to walk. It's been too long since he's had the freedom of walking down the street without a disguise or being cooped up somewhere hiding from his markers trying to take them out one by one. He tucks his hands in his pocket as Molly walks along side him. They are quiet but he finds it nice to be like this just for a little while.

When they arrive at the crime scene he continues on as if it is simply that easy to be back here. He knows that Greg is delighted to have him back for he was befuddled by this, himself. He immediately heads over to the table where the skeleton is stationed when they slip through the previously taped and sealed room.

It is a peculiar sight but it doesn't take too long to dissect it. He is getting a bit annoyed with John. He's not there obviously but it feels like he's there listening to him and berating him every time he falters. Making a slight mistake as he stands awkwardly near Molly and tries not to comment on things. It starts when she's viewing the body, her ring glinting in the small bit of light that they have.

Jealous?

Perhaps he is but he mutters, "Shut up." Taking Lestrade off guard while Molly is viewing the corpse. She soon sees what he does. Their minds syncing up for the first time today. He is delighted when he hears her voice along with his informing Lestrade that "this skeleton is only six months old." Neither of them fully comment on this moment but it is there spreading warmth through him as he bends down to open a compartment that holds a dusty old book.

They don't stay there too much longer. This isn't a true case. It is a bluff, a fake set up by someone who just wants to have a little fun with him. Molly soon asks him why someone would do such a thing and he makes another slip up but he's out of the room when he does it, "Why exactly, John."

This was one of two times that he had done it with another person present. He had done a few times when it was just the two of them together. He curses himself silently as he waits for Molly again. He hadn't realized it immediately but she seemed a bit morose briefly before he whisked her off to another place. He had gotten another message, Molly didn't ask him where. She seemed to still enjoy tagging along and he counted that as a good sign as he hailed for a cab and let her get in before he did.

He noticed her twiddling with her ring slightly as they headed towards the set of buildings that housed his informant. He peered out the window in order to distract himself from either stilling her hands or saying anything that could be construed as unkind. He had been doing so well.

Upon arriving at the door, he went to ring the doorbell when Molly reached out and pushed his arm up making him doing so. She giggled. She was playing around. He smiled at her as the door opened and he held up the little hat he was messing around with earlier. "Thanks for bringing it back."

They soon were transformed into an interesting area full of trains. Molly and Sherlock shared looks of disbelief of all of this and it only continued when the man mentioned his girlfriend being a fan of his. There was something more unbelieveable that to him, a man with an obsession such as this couldn't possible have a female companion could he? NO. He didn't think so. He chuckled as he went to mock the man only to turn to Molly and she gave him the most unimpressed looked he had ever seen from her.

Oh dear.

He thought he was being amusing. Apparently not, he quickly stopped and apologized before hopefully wishing that they could just speed things along. They soon were all huddled around a computer and he was being shown footage from a station. Molly seemed to grow amused by the use of the word cars in relation to the compartment divider's of the trains.

His informant quickly began to make an assessment of what that truly meant and Molly gave him a look of annoyance and disbelief. He chose that moment to talk to her again, speaking lowly, "He said he liked trains." Molly grinned at him. This caused something to change slightly in him as Molly went back to looking at the monitor and Sherlock's eyes flickered over to her. A smile slipped onto this face for a few brief seconds before he went back to the matter at hand.

He didn't entirely shake the interaction but he continued on with the work and eventually had to enter his mind palace leaving Molly to find him soon on the stairwell. She went up to him as he came out of it, surprising him slightly as he moved down muttered about maps. He would need a lot of them to be able to figure out the rest of the problem. The footage had been very useful. Very useful indeed.

Molly seemed to find it was appropriate that they really talk now for she began asking him about his reasoning's behind bringing her out today. Sherlock had first began to ask her out for chips. He was a little hungry and he thought it would be a nice end to the day. Molly seemed to be a little confused.

He went to explain that he would have plenty portions to share when she interrupted him again. "What's today about, Sherlock?"

"Saying thank you." He turned to her as she came down. He stayed there as she met him at the bottom. "For what?" She persisted.

"Everything you did for me."

She still didn't understand, muttering, "It's okay. It was my pleasure."

Pleasure. No. Not what he meant. "No, I mean it."

"No." She sighs, "I didn't mean pleasure I meant I didn't mind. I wanted to." They're running in circles here and he knows he needs to be more direct about what he's trying to say. He needs to be more precise and forthcoming so he tells her the truth. All of it. It feels good to get it out after all thsi time. Two years is a long time and he doesn't expect her to truly get it unless he does tell her all of it. So he does.

"Moriarty slipped up, he made a mistake. The one person who he didn't think mattered at all to me, was the one who mattered the most. You made it all possible." He lets out a sigh his face letting off what he has known all day and he remarks on it. "But, you can't do this again, can you?"

Her face breaks from it's composure and he watches her closely trying to see how he can muddle through this. Her eyes are shining and she smiles slightly as she swallows and admits, "I had a lovely day. I'd love to I just..um..."

He stops her before she can attempt to make an excuse for why she's so upset now. He has always been able to read her. Nearly better than most people and she has always been able to read him. "Congratulations, by the way Molly." She looks down at her ring - he's still watching her as close as ever. She sniffles, knowing that he's seen it and perhaps it wasn't the first time.

"He's not from work." She starts again. Sherlock gives are a smile. He hopes it is genuine for he is trying to be happy for her. She deserves this. She deserves someone better than what she's had in the past and perhaps what she wanted from him.

Molly begins to tell him about her fiance and gives him little details. It seems she is happy. This is great. This is what he wanted for her and he tells her this as he steps closer to her. "I hope you'll be very happy, Molly Hooper. You deserve it." He doesn't know what makes him say it but it feels like something he must in this moment. He is putting his guard him for a moment. "Besides, not every man you fall for can turn out to be sociopaths."

"No?" She asks.

He wants to sigh again. It is not out of irriation more because he has to admit out loud. She can't do this again. Not with him. It's been a long time and she has finally moved past him. She is getting married and he is happy for her.

"No." He tells her firmly.

He takes another step towards her knowing exactly how this day will have to end. He stares at her with as much happiness as he can muster knowing what he does about her now. It is a broken smile but he hopes she understands how much harder it would be just to leave her like this without saying a single word. In this moment with her he is happy for her ability to find another while he was away. Someone who could love her and treat her in a way that she deserves. Someone unlike him, someone better. Much more better and a part of him hates that he can admit that.

He doesn't falter as he bends down and presses his mouth against her cheek. Just like Christmas. Except, this is different. This hurts him, too. He moves past her without looking at her face. He knows if he does he might change his mind about everything else. She will be happy, he knows this.

So he moves on, missing her small comment about it (sociopaths) being her type. He tightens his coat as he steps out into the cold air of the night. He sniffles. It is not because of the cold it is because he has become shaken by what has happened. By her.

He almost wants to look back at her but he doesn't. He straightens up and moves out to the street and keeps on walking leaving her behind. He could never truly leave her behind, he knows this.

For now, he needs to let her go.

He finds himself at the chips place that he mentions and he grabs the extra portions even though he is alone. Eating some on his way back to Baker Street. Then more when he is safely inside.

It is a small comfort to the ache that grows in his chest at the thought of Molly Hooper and what could be. What could have been, he corrects.

However, it is not the end and he makes a promise then to never leave her even if he can't have her in the way he thought he could. She had never left him, and he could/would never do that to her. It would break them both.