Here is a oneshot for Sherlolly fans when he tells her that he is alive.
Molly Hooper sighed on her way to work. The mortuary, however comfortable she felt there, was dull and depressing at times. She still didn't mind. It wasn't like she had friends to meet or places to go. Just work. And Sherlock.
Her mind wandered. Ever since the "suicide" she avoided that topic within herself. She couldn't believe he would do something like that. He must be alive. He must.
She focused once again on driving and pulled into the St. Bartholomew's Hospital parking lot. The past months she dread taking the elevator down, as she always thought that the analogy of the elevator going lower than what seemed like death to actual death was a terrific one.
Also, she had to pass that spot. The special spot. Sherlock seemed so desperate, so honest. He needed help...
There he stood in the hallway, waiting for her. He then spoke, and Molly's breath caught in her chest.
"You're wrong, you know. You do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you..."
Time slowed to Molly. She didn't understand. Was she blowing this out of proportion?
"What do you need?" she asked immediately yet carefully.
Sherlock looked straight in her eyes and said one word. "You."
She shook that memory from her head. He was alive. She knew that. She had helped him...had she? She wasn't sure what she did for him.
She then realized she was stationary, and something wet made its way down her cheek. She brushed it away. This was a recurring situation, it had to stop. She managed to make her feet work again and started to move towards the locker rooms to put a few things away.
Her schoolgirl crush was evident to her. She even at times felt a little embarrassed. Who wouldn't? An obsession. But the past months made it evident that this was something more to her, even though she knew that Sherlock would always view her as a friend. But maybe something would happen to change that. Something could happen. Would she induce the something? Or would it come on its own. But he was so...cold. He was nearly always oblivious to the emotions of others, unless they told him right out that he was being himself.
Her mind once again had a flashback. This time during Christmas, that weird day when she found out that he could identify someone else, a woman, by...not her face. But before that, when everything was happy, she felt ecstatic.
She opened the door to the shared locker rooms and made her way to her red locker. She opened it deftly, and put in her coat.
Just then, a small change in the air occurred, a shifting, and a swooshing noise. A door had been opened. Molly looked in the mirror of her locker. And froze.
"..."
"..."
The two people looked at each other via mirror. Molly, too afraid to turn for fear that the apparition would disappear, stood fixed in one spot, speechless.
"Molly..."
Was he real? Was he really standing there before (well, behind) her. It wasn't her imagination?
"You're...alive?"
Sherlock stood in front of the door. Wearing the red scarf that Molly had given him for Christmas. She smiled internally, but at the same time could not comprehend what was happening.
"Yes."
"But...you..you...died."
"No."
He shifted from his right foot onto his left. Clearly not certain on how he should handle the situation.
Molly turned. He was real! He was there! And he was real! She held back tears of joy as not to confuse him.
"I'm sorry that I did not contact you sooner. I had to wait for the rumors to die down. Additionally, the menaces of paparazzi would have a legitimate field day. I'm sorry." He said.
Molly walked towards him, suddenly overcome with emotion, and slapped him. Hard.
"That's to be expected." he said to himself.
Molly, realizing what she just did, started to splutter, "Oh my gosh, I d-didn't mean...I'm sorry! I was just a-angry and...oh gosh!" she started to mentally chide herself.
"It's quite all right. Normal reaction. I have prepared for this...Mmff!"
Molly just hugged him. She didn't know what to do. She just hugged him tightly and didn't let go. She felt his arms lower unsurely over her, not really hugging, but reassuring. And she cried.
Well, I myself being a Sherlolly fan know that I am not satisfied until a kiss. But, being as it may, I shall leave that for Moffat to decide. Sorry about Sherlock, he is a little OOC. I don't understand how anybody can write for him, they would have to a genius. Haha! Please review! Thanks!