A/N: The text in italics is a bit if Sherlocks thoughts (sorrry for not being able to keep up with it, but it is hard to write)
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Sherlock had known since his teens that he was asexual. Well, he hadn't had a name for it back then but he had known that he didn't have the same drive as the rest of his peers. He also was reserved when it came to physical contact, and didn't like people getting to close to him. The only friends closer than mere acquaintances outside family he had ever had was John Watson and before that Victor Trevor during university and Andy Eskilsson during his childhood. Mrs. Hudson he regarded like family for some reason. Then there were Molly Hooper. He honestly didn't know what to do about his feelings for her. She made him warm inside, and unlike everyone else he did want to initiate physical contact with her; maybe even start a romantic relationship with her. But he knew what would be expected of him, and knowing that Molly was a sexually active being he didn't dare to take their friendship further. He kept her at arm's length just to be sure he didn't do anything foolish, such as even hint at the depth of his feelings for her. He knew for certain that she had been infatuated by him, and that she still had kind of a crush on him (it was blatantly obvious for anyone with a pair of eyes in their skull). Truth be told, he had one on her.
It wasn't until after the fall and following escapades he realized fully how serious his feelings were towards her. But it was first when he was told that he was likely not to return from his exile, that he realized that it was now or never. At the moment he was sat in the living room. He bolted op, grabbed his coat and ran downstairs, shouting "I'm going out" to Mrs. Hudson. When he was out the door he hailed a cab and gave Molly's address to the driver. In the cab he had plenty of time to think, and he almost told the driver to turn around several times when he nearly got too nervous to continue with his quest. whatifyouarewrongwhatifshedoesntlikeyouwhatifshewillhatemenowthatiamamurderercondemnedmurderersarepredominantelymaleperhapsbecausefemalecounterpartssmarterplussheprobablywontstayaftershelearnsthatyouareasexualsheisafullyfunctinalfemaleofthehumanspeciesshewillwantnocravesexinarelationshipandsheprobablyreadjaninesarticlesandexpectmetobesomekindofsexgodshewilltotallyjudgeyoushecanreadyouthiscanonlyendindisasteryouwontbeabletohandlerejectionyouwillfallbackintooldhabitssomepeoplewouldbeecstaticaboutthatyouwouldmakefrontpageheadlines"fakegeniusfakedhisowndeathnowmurdererandrelapsedjunkie
When he finally arrived at her apartment building he stepped out of the cab and paid the driver. Then he stood at the pavement outside and paced back and forth for a long time. blueshirtgaybuthasgirfriendtocoverupstrictlyreligiusfamilynewspapermancantbakelovestobakewifekidshappyfamilywhatwouldjohnsaygottoprotectjohnandmaryandmrshudsonandlestradeandmollyshewillhatemeicanthandlethiswhatifshekicksmeoutthereisnootherwaythiswillendjohnhasmarycanttroublehimwiththistoowhatwiththeirbabyonthewayitsagirlhavetoprotecthertoowonderwhatshewillbecalledbutmollyisnicewhatifshaonlywouldplaybecauseshereadsmeandseeithinkiwilldieidontwanttodieiwantedbeforethisnoiseiswhyistarteddrugscantstartdrugsagainjohnlestraemrshudsonmollyparentsdissapointedbrotheridontknowshippedawaytoinstitutioncanthandlethatagainimustturnaroundbutbrotherwouldseethinkiamacowardalreadythinksiammoronfallingforsentimentsentimentisachemicaldefectinthelosingsideiamalreadylosingiamhavingananxietyattaccanthaveitnow
At that point Molly opened the door and saw him standing there and said "come in! I will have the kettle boiling in no time" whatisitwithpeopleandmakingteabutdrinkingteadefenitelyhaveacalmingefecsodoesmakingitbostonteapartywasin1773americansdressedasindiansthrewteaintheocean when he had entered she looked him over "You look a real mess. Take some deep breaths, sit down, and the tea will be ready in a few minutes. You look like you really need a chat, I'll be back in a moment." Sherlock sat down in her sofa, leaned back and just focused on breathing. After a while his thoughts started to slow down and settle. When she came back with the tea tray, he was much calmer and somewhat relaxed; looking straight ahead at nothing in particular. Molly put the tray down on the coffee table and sat herself next to him in the sofa. "So, what happened?" she said, and he answered "I betrayed my brother and my country and shot a finance mogul that owned several newspapers" "I mean, in your own words" "I don't know where to begin, I probably should start with that this man was a master blackmailer, who blackmailed Mary to get to Mycroft through John and me; and Mary isn't who she seems…" and so his story was rolled out with few interruptions from molly when she needed clarification on something. When he finally had gotten it all out of himself, he felt a strange sort of emptiness inside of him, that wasn't all bad. Sherlock also discovered that he had tears trickling down his cheeks and wiped them away embarrassed. Molly saw this and said "It's okay if you need to cry, come here" and drew him closer to herself into a hug. At that, his floodgates burst, and he started crying for real. She continued carding her hands through his hair and humming softly until he calmed down and the tears and sobs subsided. He was embarrassed at breaking down like that in front of her like that. She noticed and said "there is no shame in getting too much to handle. I see it like this: you have said that your brain is like a computer, and this was like a computer overload. I don't see anything wrong with that, god knows I had a few myself during difficult times of my life. The best thing you can do is ride it out and take it a bit easy on yourself afterwards. But enough about this, there is also another reason to why you are here, so go and wash your face and come back so we can talk about it."
A/N: Thank you for reading! Please share with me what you liked/disliked and what I could do better.
TYFBA (thank you for being awesome)