When you were waiting on the edge of the unknown, and with the cataclysm raining down, insides crying save me now, you were there and possibly alone.
Hope
Molly Hooper, mousey pathologist at St. Barts, sat on the swing of her neighborhood park, it was any normal day, a Sunday actually. But she hardly seemed to notice, her eyes showing anything but liveliness; of course what else could one expect when it's been so long since the fall—since his fall. Her legs dangled from the swing as she teetered back and forth on the one year anniversary, her eyes distant wondering if he was really out there. Perhaps he was and maybe, just maybe he would come back one day. Of course this crossed her mind everyday since she helped him and today was no different.
"You've always counted—and I've always listened…"
The words, clear as day rang in her head as she remembered the day it happened, and then how he said goodbye to her, saying he might not come back. Tears glistened in her eyes and she quickly wiped them away. She was in love with a man that might never come back, and she should move on.
"Mind if I sit?"
She jolted out of her trance, looking up quickly at the man that stood before her. He was lanky, not very built and had hair that hung in face slightly. He gave a small smile, a forced one at that. She motioned for him to sit.
"You're a bit old to be sitting here aren't you?" She said quietly, looking down at Sherlock's hat in her hands.
"You're a bit too quiet to be having fun on a swing." He countered with a small smile. She returned the smile.
"You're not from here are you?" She looked out once more to the people running around the park.
"What makes you say that?" He fidgeted slightly, worried for a moment.
"You walk around as if you've never really been here, as if you've been wandering. Don't think I hadn't noticed you walking this way before…" Her eyes widened. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."
He chuckled.
"It's fine, I guess my emotions are not so easily hid."
"And why would you want to hide them?" She whispered, looking at him with curiosity. She stared at him for a moment, eyes connecting, before she continued. "You have lost someone, your eyes say that plainly."
"I lost people." He said quietly.
The sun had begun to set, the rays cutting through the dreary skies of London.
"So have I, I lost my friend and colleague—I'm not sure if he will ever come back." She said. Her grip on the hat tightened. "I don't know why I'm telling you this…I don't even know you, I'm sorry."
"Its quite alright, we all loose people and sometimes we find comfort in talking to complete strangers because we can strip ourselves bare without the fear of it turning against us…in the hope of finding forgiveness, comfort or just an ear to hear us." He said, looking up at the sky. "Tell me about him…"
Molly stared at him, taking in what he had said. It was true, but that was not what she originally wanted. She looked down for a moment, opening her hands up so the hat sat on her lap.
"He was the most arrogant man, a genius and an idiot at the same time."
"Red does not suit you Molly Hooper, it makes your lips thinner than they already are."
"He insulted me."
"Black, two sugars, I'll be upstairs."
"He bossed me around."
"Thank you John."
"Molly."
"He is forgetful of who is in the room."
"You can see me."
"I don't count."
"But when he sees you, he will really take notice of the person you are."
"You've always counted."
"And I fell in love with him."
The man looked at Molly, a small smile on his face.
"He's out there somewhere, and I know that one day he will come back."
"You seem very sure of this." He turned toward her more, giving her a curious glance. "I know what it's like, to have hope…and sometimes it pays to have hope." He looked down again and this was the first time she noticed the circular glasses in his hand. "I've lost many people…"
"This is me…leaving."
"Some left."
"Grandfather!"
"Raggedy man—goodbye!"
"But we were going to travel together."
"Some got left behind."
"Run you clever boy and remember."
" And some, not many, but some,"
"Goodbye, sweetie."
"Died." His shoulder sagged a bit. "But you know what I learned? The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don't always spoil the good things and make them unimportant." He looked down again, fiddling with the glasses. "That hat you're holding was his, wasn't it?"
Molly nodded, her grip tightening on it once more.
"He's right you know, you are important and to him you may just count the most." He stood up at that moment and moved in front of her, kneeling before her. He took her hands, hat and all, into his. Molly stared in his green eyes and for a second she could see the universe. "I've never met someone who wasn't important."
"He hated this hat you know…called it a death Frisbee at one point."
They looked at it for a moment.
"These were her reading glasses, she kept on saying lines were forming on her face, her husband chose well not to answer that question."
Molly took the glasses in her hand, they seemed worn.
"You wear these now don't you?" She asked, looking at his face again. He took them from her gingerly, nodding.
"She saved me from myself, she was the first face I saw after a long time."
"You're not some guy from a prison are you?"
"No…although I am a bit of a mad man."
"That's okay, he was a high functioning sociopath." She grinned at him and then looked down in her hands. "This hat…would look a lot better on you. You said you traveled right?"
"Yes…I did."
Molly stood, as did he.
"Take this with you…and if you find him give this to him." She held it out to him. "I have the strangest feeling that one day you may see him."
The man's eyes glistened with emotion, a fire of acceptance dancing beneath them.
"It's been a year since he left and I have to move forward…keeping this with me would only keep me from doing what he would want." She began, putting the deer stalker on his head. "Take this for me…I know this must be weird but."
"Thank you…" He trailed off, accepting the gift but waiting for a name.
"Dr. Molly Hooper."
"Thank you, Dr. Hooper." He adjusted the deer stalker. "I shall do you this favor." He began to walk away then and Molly suddenly remembered something.
"What's your name?"
He stopped, turning his head over his shoulder slightly. She saw him fix the bow tie around his neck before answering.
"The Doctor."