Prologue
When faced with this occurrence, Molly always thought her heart would be filled with joy, elation even. Instead, the only thing she felt as she stared down at the little pink plus sign was mortification, and a sinking in her stomach.
With her engagement recently called off on less than well terms with her fiance Tom, she knew he wouldn't come back to help her. Hell, he might even claim it wasn't his child. The man already thought she'd been cheating on him with Sherlock, which was what had ended her engagement in the first place. As if she would cheat on anyone.
Bastard.
And now, he was just a part of the long list of mistakes in her life. That was all she seemed capable of making in her love life.
Falling in love with the only man who didn't give a rat's arse about relationships.
Dating the world's only consulting criminal to make him jealous.
Dumping said criminal for being gay.
The string of useless, boring dates with equally boring men to try to forget it all.
Falling in love with the man again after he kissed her cheek at Christmas.
Having her heart broken by a moan less than a minute later.
Falling in love again, and helping him fake his death because suddenly, she counted! As if that really meant anything.
Moving on. Meeting Tom. Becoming engaged.
Regretting everything when he came back.
Falling in love again on the most unique date - okay, not a date... he didn't consider it one, so she wouldn't either - she'd ever been on. Turning down a real date because Tom was waiting for her at home.
Ending her engagement when he accused her of shagging the man she'd tried to forget so their relationship might work.
It was just a pitiful list of mistakes, all since meeting Sherlock bloody Holmes.
And now this.
As if she needed anything else to ponder and worry over, nevermind finding a new flat since Tom owned the one they'd shared. Nevermind that Sherlock's relapse piled on top of everything else just added to the stress she had and didn't need.
Nevermind that his taunts at the end of her engagement had cut like a knife. He could deduce everything about her, digging up things best left alone, and using them as weapons against her. Of course, he probably assumed that she had been the one to call it off.
He always missed something.
Or maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd known it all along, and just hadn't cared. That seemed just as likely. He would have cared less than usual about her feelings, due to the cocktail of drugs in his system. He could choke on them for all she cared.
Bastard.
Bastards. Both of them, Tom and Sherlock. She just wasn't sure right now who was the bigger bastard of the two. Both of them could sod off.
But that still left her with this.
She tossed the pregnancy test into the trash bin and left the bathroom of the hotel she was staying at while she secured a new flat. She'd have to change what she was looking for now. A one bedroom flat wouldn't be big enough for her and her child, and she would definitely be keeping her child. If she never got anything else she wanted, no marriage or husband to come home to, she would have her child to love and raise to one day, hopefully, be a wonderful human being.
She placed her hand on her stomach. Intellectually, she knew her baby was probably smaller than a grape right now, but already she was picturing about eight months into the future, when she'd get to meet him or her, and hold her baby in her arms. She'd always wanted to be a mother.
At least there was a bright side to this madness, she thought with a small smile to herself.
She continued to gently trace her stomach around her belly button, coming to terms with what she was planning. She could already tell she loved the child inside her. Even though she hadn't even reached the stage where her stomach would stiffen, she already knew that much.
She could, and she would, do everything alone, just to prove everyone wrong about her. She wasn't weak simply because she chose to speak softly most of the time. Hell, if she could work with dead bodies for a living, she could raise a child on her own.
That doesn't mean you want to, silly girl.
The thought came unbidden, but Molly shoved it away. When had she ever gotten what she wanted in the last seven-odd years since this all began?
She sat down on the hotel bed, and then laid back until her head touched the pillows. She began to rub gentle circles on the smooth plain of her stomach.
No matter what, this child would know it was loved.
Prologue hehe :3
so, if you want the biggest spoiler ever, Listen to the song 'He Didn't Have To Be' by Brad Paisley. Of course, it's not going to be that simple ;)
Until Next Time! :*