AN-I was listening to the song Irrelevant by Lauren Aquilina and decided that it is one of the heartbreakingly accurate Sherlolly songs ever, and I decided to write a fic based on it. This is my first story ever, so please be gentle with me.
Sherlock Holmes burst into the lab with his coat tails billowing out behind him. "Molly, I need to see those samples I gave you yesterday. Did you run the analysis like I told you? I also need three toes and a finger; it doesn't matter which ones." He was met with only silence. "Molly?" he bellowed.
"Oh, Sherlock! What are you doing here?" Mike Stamford came out from inside Molly's office holding a large cardboard box.
"I came here to finish an important experiment. Where is Molly? She was supposed to run some tests for me." Sherlock looked around the lab and realized that Molly was nowhere to be seen. In fact, none of her things were in the lab.
"Didn't you hear? Molly went and got herself a plumb job in Edinburgh, head of the pathology department I hear. Yesterday was her last day. I'm actually on my way to give her the rest of her things from her office," Mike said, looking down at the box in his hands. "It's great for her, but we'll be losing one of our best pathologists."
Without warning, Sherlock grabbed the box from Mike's hand. "I think I'll take this to her. It's right on the way for me." With that, he flounced out of the room, leaving the older man alone scratching his head.
"I thought Baker Street was in the opposite direction."
Sherlock rushed down to the busy streets of London holding the box of Molly's belongings. He quickly hailed a cab and climbed in. So many thoughts ran through his head. Nothing made sense. It felt as though his whole world was falling in on him. He couldn't understand why he felt this way. Why would Molly's departure have such an effect on him? She was just a pathologist. Sure, she was one of the best he had ever worked with, but he could easily find a new, slightly less capable one to take her place. He shook his head at the thought. Nobody could ever replace Molly Hooper. But why was she so irreplaceable? He didn't have time to ponder that thought because, at that moment, he arrived at his destination. He threw a few notes at the cabbie and ran up the steps to Molly's building.
Molly huffed as she packed up the last box. She looked around her empty flat. Almost everything had been moved out. All that was left was this box of knickknacks and other things she had managed to accumulate over the years. She was really going to miss this place. She had made so many memories. "Well, on to the next chapter of my life," she whispered to herself. She turned to find a certain consulting detective standing in her doorway. If she didn't know any better, she would say that he looked confused. "Sherlock, what are you doing here?"
"Mike gave me this box of things to give to you. It's everything from your office," he replied, lifting the box a bit to emphasize his point. "You didn't tell me you were leaving," he said with a slight accusatory edge in his voice.
"I…I just figured that John would tell you," she replied softly. She stared at him as he took a step closer to her.
"Why couldn't you tell me yourself?"
"I didn't think I could bear to do it in person. I'm absolute rubbish at goodbyes."
"Why are you leaving? I need you here, Molly."
She turned around and busied herself with taping up the box at her feet. "You don't have to worry. I hear the woman they got to replace me is one of the best pathologists in the country, and she's a big fan of yours. You won't have any trouble getting all the help you need." If she had turned around to look at him, she would have seen the look of hurt on his face.
"That's not what I meant," he whispered hoarsely.
"Why else would you need me here, Sherlock? All these years we've known each other, you've only come to me when you needed help, and I've always done everything I could to help. But I have no idea how you feel. I don't even know if you consider me your friend." She picked up the box she had just finished packing and straightened. She squared her shoulders, preparing for what was to come.
"I…I...Molly…" He floundered. He had never felt so helpless in his life. There was so much he had to say, but he couldn't find the right words.
She turned to face him. "Look, Sherlock, I've always been here for you, doing everything you asked, and I was happy to do it, really. But, Sherlock, I need something else now. Did you think that I would just follow you around forever? I have my own life, but I've been too busy trying to be a part of yours to actually live my own. It's my turn to be selfish. It's my turn to be happy. You'll be fine without me. I don't need anything in that box; you can just throw it all away." With that, she walked past him, out the door, and out of his life.