One word prompt: universe

Molly sighed contentedly as she turned her face toward the man next to her. He had his arms behind his head as he lay on his back, both of them on top of the blanket, and for once, he looked relaxed. It was very unlike him; it was not often she saw the man so at peace, but it made her happy to see that her idea had a positive effect.

She smiled, turning her head again to look at the stars. It had taken her some convincing to get Sherlock to gaze at them with her, but he knew how much it meant to her. Before moving to London to go to medical school, Molly lived a more rural life, where the stars could actually be seen at night. She loved where she lived now, and didn't regret any experiences away from home, but this was what she missed the most.

They were silent for a long time. At first, Molly would mumble constellations as she found them, and they were barely audible to even Sherlock, but then she was quiet. She let herself get lost in a haze, more than childhood memories until her mind took over.

"You're thinking," he told her, bringing her back into reality. She let out a small chuckle as she nodded her head. "Well?" he asked after a moment.

"What?" she said, her eyebrows knitting in confusion as she looked to him. "Oh – nothing, it's just silliness."

"I want to know," he confirmed.

Molly bit down on her lip in hesitation. She trusted Sherlock, but she knew how he was with thoughts outside of his area, and he would probably just explain all the ways she was wrong on the topic, so she wasn't sure she wanted to share.

"You told me yourself that it would make the relationship better if I asked questions rather than tried to deduce everything."

Molly sighed as she began: "don't you think-" but she stopped, realizing that if anyone did not think about it, it was probably Sherlock Holmes. "I just wonder what else is out there in the universe. If there is anything out there; well, I think there is."

"Gases and planets, stars, debree in the atmosphere," he said logically, but then added, "but that isn't what you mean."

"No," she said with a smile, the two still not looking at each other. "My dad always used to talk to me about it. He was the one that helped me learn my constellations when I was young, actually. But when I got older, we talked about our opinions of what we thought was out there."

"Mmm," Sherlock mumbled in understanding of her words, but was otherwise quiet. This was greatly to Molly's surprise, since she thought he would find it childish to wonder about life beyond our reach. He also knew that she had more to say, but it was something delicate.

"When my dad first got sick," she began, "he started talking about the universe as a dark and scary place." Sherlock turned his head to see Molly still gazing up; her eyes were glossy as she brought up her father. "Before, he had talked of it as something so unknown, beyond our knowledge, but I'd never heard him sound so terrified."

Molly stopped for a moment, quietly inhaling a shaky breath. Sherlock kept his gaze in her direction, but she let her focus remain on the stars, hoping they would give her confidence to keep composure. "But the night before he died, he wanted to go outside with me to look at the stars. When I took him out, he told me how the universe could never be a scary place. That just on Earth life was beautiful, fulfilling, and that there were places humans would view as awful and ugly, but that the beauty always made up for it. It always made it worth it to work through life to its last moment, and that he had the utmost confidence that other life forms must think similarly."

Molly stopped for a moment, her eyes closing as a tear rolled down her face. "He and I both knew that the next day would be his last."

Before Molly opened her eyes, she felt Sherlock's body closer to hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he kissed the moisture lingering on her cheek.

She took in another breath and then opened her eyes, a small smile on her face. "He wouldn't want me to think of looking at the sky as something sad."

"You don't," he told her, pushing her hair behind her ear. You didn't have to be Sherlock to deduce that; he knew that because he knew Molly in a way other people did not.

"I have thought about that before though," he admitted, causing Molly to turn her head toward him. She did not have a look of shock on her face, only of curiousness. She had told Sherlock that she wanted to know him in every way possible, and that she didn't care how long it took. She loved him, and she would wait an eternity to learn all there is to know; all there is to make her love him even more.

"I usually delete it after I do. I cannot let my mind dwell on unanswered questions. The full range of the universe is something that will always be unknown, and it would drive me mad to have something so unanswerable running through my head. You know how I am with cases and the need to know all of the answers."

Molly nodded in earnest, rolling onto her side as he pulled her closer. He moved his lips to her, capturing her in long, tender kisses. It was the way that Molly always kissed him when Sherlock was upset or frustrated and she wished to both understand and heal his wounds. It overwhelmed Molly to see how much Sherlock had paid attention and learned throughout their relationship so far. Her hands found themselves tangled in her curls as more tears ran down her cheeks.

They both could not ask for better lovers. Molly found solace knowing that Sherlock felt like the person she was always meant to be with, and Sherlock, in his more vulnerable moments, could admit wholeheartedly that giving up his refusal of sentiment was worth it because it was her.