The day after Sherlock leaves – dies, her mind supplies, she's supposed to say he's dead in public – Molly celebrates in private.

It's selfish, she knows that. John and Greg and Mrs Hudson – maybe even Mycroft – they're still grieving for a man they think committed suicide. They've lost an important part of their world, and despite the fact that she knows better, she should still be by their sides, helping them.

But she's the one he trusted. He chose to come to her, not anyone else – not even John – when he was really in danger. She can't overlook that, no matter how much she tries. Her life has been tied to Sherlock Holmes' ever since she first met him, more than five years ago, and she's just now realised that maybe, just maybe, his life is tied to hers as well.

If that's not a reason for her to celebrate, she doesn't know what is.

The happiness lasts for nearly two months before she falls back down to earth again.

She's not been able to share her ecstasy with anyone else – she's the only one Sherlock trusted, and that was how she's going to keep it – but the fact that she knows is more than enough. And then, two months in, her fingers start typing out Sherlock's cell number to let him know that there's a particularly interesting corpse-

Which is when it hits her. Sherlock's alive, wherever he was, but he might as well be dead for all that she's concerned. He's busy running around the world, destroying everyone who ever worked for Moriarty, and she's still living her boring life working in the morgue at St Bart's.

Sherlock may have trusted her over everyone else, but that doesn't mean that he cares about her any more. And that definitely doesn't mean that he's going to keep her appraised about what he's doing and where he is.

She might be aware of the fact that he's still alive, but that doesn't stop him from being just as dead to her as he is to John and Greg and Mrs Hudson.

She meets Tom nearly six months after Sherlock had been declared dead. He was nothing like the man who had left her behind without looking back even once.

For one, he was actually social.

He was normal, just the kind of man she was supposed to fall for. He was just the kind of man her girlfriends kept pushing her to date – and he was exactly the kind of man she couldn't look twice at.

She had already lost her heart to the most extraordinary man in the world. An ordinary man just wasn't enough for her anymore.

"One date! What can it hurt?"

She looked at the man standing in front of her. It had been a year since Sherlock had left, and she finally forced herself to accept that he wasn't coming back anytime soon – at least, not for her. As much as she loved him, she was also pragmatic. She needed to move on, and Tom was offering her a chance to try.

There was no way she could refuse, not it she wanted to have any dignity at all left when he finally returned.

(She ignored the voice in her head that wondered if, wherever he was, he was being kept appraised on what was happening in London. If he was at all jealous over the fact that she had agreed to go on a date with a man who wasn't him.)

"Very well," she agreed demurely, and tried very hard not to notice all the ways in which he resembled Sherlock physically.

Tom might have just been the worst possible person with whom to try getting over Sherlock Holmes.

All she had to do was mention the fact that she had known him, back when he still haunted London with Dr John Watson at his side, and he seems to be unable to leave him alone. He piles her with question after question about Sherlock, unwilling to give up before he knows as much about him as Molly herself does.

If she had known just how much he admired that man she wanted nothing more than to forget, she wouldn't have given him a second glance the first time she had seen him.

But she doesn't say a word. It's not very healthy, the two of them – not when they seem to be held together by nothing more than the memory of a dead man. But Tom's the closest that she can get to Sherlock, and she's unwilling to let go of the one person who makes her delusion of Sherlock caring for her real.

It was six months to the day she first said yes to a date that he asked her that question.

It's perfect, everything that she has ever dreamed of. He takes her out for a dinner to one of the best restaurants around, before taking her on a horse-drawn carriage tour of London, all of which culminates with him asking her to marry him.

She says yes.

There really was nothing else that she could say – she wasn't a stupid woman. She was well aware of the fact that Sherlock would almost certainly never be hers.

Tom – well, as consolation prizes go, he's actually rather brilliant.

(And she hated herself then, for thinking of Tom as a consolation prize – she might not love him, but he was still her friend. At the same time, however, she was well aware of the fact that Tom would never be able to compare to The Man who had managed to dig himself into Molly's being and refused to leave no matter what she did.)

Sherlock comes back six months after she gets engaged.

It was the world playing the biggest prank ever on her, she decided. She had wanted, desperately, to be married before Sherlock returned. She had hoped that that would stop her heart from racing every single time she heard his name mentioned or saw something that reminded her of him.

But it was Sherlock Holmes, and he wouldn't have been the man she loved if he hadn't managed to figure out a way to ruin all her beautiful plans.

And then he managed to wedge herself into her life all the more, inviting her on a day of crime solving with him. Even though it was obvious just how much he missed having John by his side instead of her, it was still the best day of her life.

(The guilt over finding Tom wanting when compared to Sherlock had never disappeared, and it was in moments like this that it came back all the stronger.)

He offers to give her John's job as his assistant, and there's nothing she wants to more to jump at the chance, to grab it with both hands.

But she's engaged now, and while she might have been unfaithful to Tom in her mind, she won't make him look like a fool in reality.

That doesn't stop her from hating Tom, just the slightest bit, for being the only thing standing between the two of them.

Sherlock Holmes kisses her the day after he returns from the dead.

It's just a peck on the cheek, nothing scandalous or inappropriate – definitely not something unsuitable to offer to an engaged woman. In the long run, she's perfectly aware that it probably means nothing to him.

That doesn't help.

The day after Sherlock Holmes returns from the dead, she falls in love all over again.

She's still Molly Hooper. She still has her dignity.

So she's going to marry Tom, and be the closest to having Sherlock that she will ever be.

And she's never going to give her heart to another person ever again.

A/N: I know the tenses are a bit messed up in this piece, but that's all intentional - the fic is a reflection of just how lost Molly is.
I hope you guys liked it! As always, please don't forget to drop a review on your way out :)