Sherlock opened his eyes suddenly. He stopped playing and put his violin down on the table and called to the kitchen. "Mrs. Hudson! I asked for some tea!"
Mrs. Hudson's came round from the kitchen and stared at him intently. "Sherlock dear, I gave that tea to you 3 hours ago. It's just been sitting there while you played your music."
Sherlock looked confused. "How - how long was I playing that violin for?"
Mrs. Hudson swallowed. "Oh, a little more than 3 hours."
He frowned and took a sip of the tea. "This is fine. Don't bother warming it up." He took another sip and held it in his mouth.
His landlady smiled sweetly and headed down the stairs of the flat. "I need to go into town. I won't be back for a while. You'll be okay won't you?"
Sherlock nodded and spit his tea back into his cup. "Grab some biscuits too!"
He heard a small shout from the bottom of the staircase. "I'm not your housekeeper!"
He chuckled and sat down in his big red chair. He clasped his hands together and rested them under his chin. He closed his piercing blue eyes. No one else was in the flat but he, so he began to talk aloud to himself.
"I need a case. Something to keep my mind going." He snatched his laptop from the desk next to him and opened it up. "Let's see . . ." He scrolled through all of his cases; every one of them was solved. He jumped up making the computer fall from his lap. "How can they all be solved?! What am I to do? I'm bored!"
He thought for a moment and then grabbed his trench coat. He threw it on over his suit and walked down the stairs. He stopped before opening the door. He pulled out his phone and dialed John's number.
"Sherlock?"
"Hello, John."
"Yeah, is everything alright?"
Sherlock sat down on the bottom step of the stairs. "No, no, no we have a big problem."
"What's the matter?" John's voice sounded urgent.
Sherlock let out a deep breath. "I'm bored, John."
On the other line, John closed his eyes trying to keep calm. "Well, don't go shooting holes in the bloody wall."
Sherlock groaned. "Oh for - what else am I supposed to do?!"
John raised his voice. "Well there are other things to do besides shooting that stupid gun at the bl-" He took a deep breath. "Did you check other cases?"
Sherlock eagerly answered. "Yes, and they're all solved! All of them! I-I-I just don't know what to do!"
John hesitated before answering. "Why don't you go out and do something. Go see Molly, or your brother, or maybe Scotland Yard has something to solve. Go check it out."
Sherlock sighed. "Why don't you just come back now? You've been gone for hours."
John laughed. "Sherlock, I was at a dentist appointment! I'm driving back now. And I have only been gone for an hour. You were playing your violin when I left."
Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows. "Okay, I guess I will see you later." He hung up the phone and stood up. "Scotland Yard won't have anything interesting for me," he said to himself. "I'll ask Molly if she would like to grab coffee."
He caught a taxi to her house and knocked on the front door. She opened the door.
"Sherlock?" She looked quizzically at him. "What's the matter?"
He smiled. "Would you like to have coffee?"
Molly's eyes opened wide. "Sherlock, are you okay?"
Sherlock's smile dropped and he let out an exasperated breath. "No! I'm bored and I need to do something!"
Molly nodded. "Well . . . I'm not busy. I suppose we can. What place did you have in mind?"
He sighed again and shrugged. "Uh, Speedy's seems reasonable."
Molly nodded again. "Yeah that's fine, I guess I'll just grab my coat and then we can go."
She turned back inside and shut the door.
Sherlock walked out to the street to hail a cab. As a cab arrived at his side, Molly came out.
They both climbed in and Sherlock told the cabbie the address. Soon they were sitting in silence.
Sherlock cleared his throat. "So, how's Ben?" After he asked that, he felt an uncomfortable sensation in his chest.
Molly looked at Sherlock. "You remembered his name."
He lifted his eyebrows in a matter-of-fact way. "Yup." He emphasized the 'p' sound.
"Yeah, uh we don't do much together anymore. I think we're going to split soon."
"How long have you two been together?" asked Sherlock.
Molly shrugged. "Couple months, perhaps."
They arrived at the café and they both got out.
They each ordered a coffee and sat down at a table right next to the big window and just stared at each other. Molly broke the silence.
"So, where's John? You're never this bored," she stated while holding her hot coffee.
Sherlock lifted an eyebrow. "What do you mean by, 'this bored'?"
Molly laughed. "I mean you'd never be bored enough to have coffee with me!"
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Well, John's out." He looked through the window. "He might actually be back now." He paused for a moment and looked painfully into Molly's eyes. "I'm sorry."
She had just lifted her cup to take a sip, but put it back down when Sherlock spoke.
"Sorry? Sorry for what?" She inquired.
He shifted in his seat.
Molly's eyes opened wide. She immediately grabbed his hand and lifted his sleeve.
Sherlock looked outside again. "No, I haven't been using." He buttoned up his sleeve and looked back at Molly.
She stared deeply into his eyes. "Sherlock, what's wrong?"
Sherlock took a sip of coffee. "What do you mean, 'what's wrong'?"
Molly looked serious. "You apologized. Why did you apologize?"
Sherlock pounded his coffee down on the table, causing it to spill. "What are you talking about, Molly?"
She backed up and threw some napkins on the spilt coffee. She looked at Sherlock and saw that he was touching his chest.
Molly pressed her lips together. "Sherlock, I want to help you but you need to tell me what's going on."
Sherlock closed his eyes and put his hands on his chest. "I-I feel something . . ."
Molly stood up quickly. "What's wrong, Sherlock?"
Sherlock looked at her painfully. "I don't know." He closed his eyes and put his fingers on his temples. "I need to go to my mind palace . . ." His voice trailed off.
Molly went up to Sherlock and shook his shoulders. "Sherlock!"
He made no attempt to wake up. He was too deep in his mind palace now.
Molly whispered in his ear. "Wake up."
Sherlock opened his eyes and felt John patting his face.
"Sherlock, you're having a dream. Wake up."
Sherlock lifted his head up. He was lying on the floor, one of his long legs halfway on the bed. He sat back up and rubbed his neck.
John pulled up a chair and sat directly in front of Sherlock. "Alright." He pat his knees. "What's going on?"
Sherlock stood up and looked around. He was in his bedroom. Still in a daze, he sat down on his bed to face his friend. He rubbed his eye. "I-I don't know." Then he paused. "Did I have coffee with Molly Hooper?"
John laughed and looked skyward. "Okay, lift up your sleeve."
Sherlock shook his head. "No, it's not drugs . . . this time."
John eyed him awkwardly. "Okay, Sherlock Holmes, what's going on?"
Sherlock cleared his throat. "Did I have coffee with Molly?"
John began to mumbled but Sherlock stopped him. "Just answer the question."
John bit his lip and shook his head. "No. You fell asleep. I found you sitting in your chair with your hands clasped under your chin." John thought for a moment. " you were complaining that you were bored or something . . ."
Sherlock pondered his friend's words. "Why didn't you just leave me there?"
"Well," started John, "You were mumbling some nonsense and Mrs. Hudson said you got annoying.
Several minutes past and John repeated his question. "Sherlock, what's going on with you?"
Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows tightly and widened his eyes. "I uh- I had a dream . . . and I felt something odd . . ." His eyes drifted to the floor.
John sighed. "Was it a pain? Or . . ."
Sherlock shook his head. "It's something I haven't felt since childhood."
John squinted his eyes. "What is going on with you?"
Sherlock's eyebrows were furrowed tightly and he was in a daze.
John stood up and waved his hand in front of Sherlock's face. "Sherlock!"
Instantly, in one motion, Sherlock snapped out of his daze, stumbled to his feet, and began to leave the room.
"Sherlock, what on - no," said John, planting himself in front of his friend. "You cannot go out like this. John guided him back to bed. "Just lie back down and get some rest."
Sherlock plummeted into the thick
blankets and John pulled them up to his shoulders. As John began to walk out, Sherlock stopped him.
"John," he muttered, with his eyes open and face buried in a pillow.
John turned back to Sherlock. "Yes?"
"Make me some tea."
John chuckled. "Okay, Sherlock." Then, he left the room.
Once John left, Sherlock closed his eyes. He was in Speedy's Café again, having coffee with Molly.
"What's happening to me?" Sherlock was emotionless as he stared at Molly.
Molly looked around at the people. "This is your mind palace. None of this is real." She looked back at Sherlock. "There's no one else in here."
Sherlock turned his head. The people that were once there were all gone. It was just he and Molly. "What is happening to me?" He asked again, more urgently.
Molly pressed her lips tightly together and looked out the window, sadly.
"What is happening?!" Demanded Sherlock.
She looked at him with sad eyes. "You're feeling."
He squinted at her. "I'm what?"
Molly nodded. "You're feeling, Sherlock. You're experiencing emotions."
Sherlock's eyes widened. "How - why are you here? Where's John?"
Molly exhaled and tightened her ponytail. "Why I am here is up to you. You are fighting someone. An emotion that has to do with me, but you have to figure things out for yourself."
"And what if I don't?" questioned Sherlock.
Molly hesitated before answering. "Then it will eventually take over your Mind Palace. John can't help you this time. It's only you and I here."
Sherlock looked around. "What happened to me that caused this?"
Molly's brown eyes glistened as they filled with tears.
Sherlock swallowed hard. "Who? Who am I fighting?"
Molly smiled sadly at him and she struggled to get her words out. "Me."
As soon as she said that, Sherlock's mind went back to all of the things he had ever said to her.
". . . I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship, Molly."
"Molly, please don't feel the need to make conversation. It's not really your area."
"What could I possibly need from you?"
And so many more . . .
He closed his eyes tightly. Molly touched his hand, startling him.
He opened his eyes and saw Molly wiping the tears from her eyes.
"Okay," she started, her voice still shaky, "You need to wake up now."
Sherlock exhaled and closed his eyes.
Sherlock popped up from his bed. He looked around the room and then looked down at his shirt. He was still wearing his suit without a tie from earlier that day. He swiftly got out of bed and walked into the living room.
John was sitting in his chair reading the paper. When John heard Sherlock enter, he put it down. "I took Rosie to your parents house. Your mother wanted to take her to get new clothes or something. Are you feeling any better?"
Sherlock turned his head to John. A painful expression rested on his pale face. " not okay, John."
John stood from his chair. "What's the matter?"
Sherlock stood frozen, staring straight ahead at nothing. "I'm f-feeling."
John put his hand on Sherlock's forehead. "Why do you mean 'you're feeling'? Feeling what?"
Sherlock pulled his face away from John's hand and stared deeply into his eyes. "I'm feeling emotions."
John clenched his jaw. "Sherlock, if you're bluffing . . ."
Sherlock shook his head slowly. "No, not this time."
John swallowed tightly. "What do you need me to do?"
Sherlock's manner changed immediately. "I need you to make me some tea!" He snatched his laptop up from the desk and plopped down in his chair.
John stared bitterly at him. "Sherlock, you just told me something very important and now you just sit down and -"
Sherlock interrupted him. "When I don't know what to do, I look for a case."
John pointed his finger up and down at his friend. "But this is not normal!"
Sherlock stared at his blank computer screen. "John, I am not normal. People remind me of that daily."
Though not showing it, John's heart sunk as Sherlock continued.
"I just need to do something. Look for a case - anything to keep my mind off this." He turned his computer on and began searching through his cases. Minutes passed.
"I'm sorry," said John, still standing in the same position.
Sherlock lifted his eyes to John as he continued.
"You're not a machine. No matter who tells you otherwise. You are a human being. You're the most human human being I know."
Sherlock sat in silence, then turned off his computer again. His voice was barely audible. "If I'm so human," he paused, "why do I feel like this?"
John bit his cheek and when he spoke, Sherlock could hear the sadness in his voice. "There are some emotions that don't feel so good."
Sherlock's mind flooded with painful memories.
The Fall . . .
"This phone call - it's my note. It's what people do, don't they - leave a note?"
"L-leave a note when?"
"Goodbye, John."
Redbeard . . .
"What a funny little memory, Sherlock. You were upset . . . so you told yourself a better story - but we never had a dog . . ."
And Mary . . .
"Hey Sherlock? I like you . . . d-d-did I e-ever say?"
"Y-yes. Yes, y-you did."
"I-I'm sorry . . . for shooting you that t-time. I'm really s-sorry."
"I-it's alright."
"I think we're even now, okay?"
"Okay . . ."
John continued. "There are also ones that fell really good . . . like a burden has been lifted off of your chest."
Sherlock's mind drifted to Molly, but he quickly pushed the thoughts away.
"When did this happen?" asked John.
Sherlock was staring at his computer again, which was blank. "I-in . . ."
John raised his voice and took a seat in his chair. "Sherlock, when did you start feeling these emotions?"
Sherlock lifted his eyebrows and furrowed them when his eyes met John's. "In my mind palace."
John closed his eyes. "When?"
"Yesterday."
John stared deeply into Sherlock's eyes. "What happened in your mind palace?"
Sherlock thought for a moment. "I . . .I saw someone."
"Who did you see?"
John saw pain and confusion in Sherlock's eyes as Sherlock spoke. "I saw . . . I saw her.
John's eyes widened. "I knew it! You lover her! Of all the women, Irene Adler caught your -"
Sherlock cut him off. "John, I saw . . . Molly."
John's smile faded. "Sorry?"
"I saw Molly, John."
John shook his head in confusion. "Okay, you're not making any sense."
Sherlock slammed his computer shut. "I-I-I don't know why, but she was there! In my mind palace!"
John took a deep breath, still trying to process what his friend had said. "What did she say to you?"
Sherlock thought for a moment. "She told me . . . she said that I am fighting an emotion that involves her . . . and that I need to fix it before it takes over my whole mind palace - and eventually take over me."
John stood up from his seat. "I'm going to help you. You know I will. I'm not going to just leave you like this."
Sherlock shook his head. "Not this time. I have to do it myself. No one can do this but me."
John bit his lip. "Fine, but go straight to Molly. Get this settled."
Sherlock nodded. "This is my problem and I need to deal with it." He grabbed his trench coat and wrapped his blue knit scarf around his long neck.
"Thank you, John."
"My pleasure."
When Sherlock arrived at Molly's house, he stood at the front door doing nothing. He just stood. About fifteen minutes later, he knocked.
Molly answered. "Sherlock? Hi . . ."
Sherlock was staring at the ground.
She opened the door wider. "What can I help you with?"
Sherlock's blue eyes glistened in the sunlight as he looked up at her. "I - uh - came to say something."
Molly smiled awkwardly. "Okay . . . do you want to come in?"
Sherlock walked in and stood in the kitchen. "I won't be here for long. There's just something I need to tell you."
Molly nodded and Sherlock began to speak. "I am . . . sorry. I'm sorry."
Her expression changed from smiley to serious.
Sherlock cleared his throat and looked back down at his feet. "You're so kind to me and I'm so rude and horrible to you." He sniffed and looked up at her. His eyes slowly began to fill with tears and his voice cracked. "I'm so sorry. Forgive me, please."
Molly swallowed hard and tried to hold her tears back, though her voice was shaky. "I forgive you."
Sherlock exhaled. "Thank you."
Molly closed her eyes as Sherlock briskly swept past her and out the door.
As he walked down the street, he stopped in his tracks. Then, he turned and bolted back to Molly's house. He knocked again.
Molly was still standing in the same position he had left her in. She went back to the door when she heard him knock.
"Sherlock, what - "
He cut her off. "There's something else I need to say."
Molly stepped outside and shut the door behind her while he continued talking.
"I'm sorry I didn't show it before, but I . . . " He exhaled nervously. "I love you. I always have. I just didn't know it; didn't know how to show it, but now . . . "
Molly's eyes filled with tears. "Sherlock . . ."
He furrowed his eyebrows and stared at her with pleading eyes. He stepped closer to her. Soon, he found himself less than an inch from Molly's face and she stared into his piercing blue eyes. He put his hands on her cheeks and lowered his voice into a deep whisper. "I love you, Molly Hooper."
Molly's tears ran down her cheeks. "I have loved you forever, Sherlock Holmes."
As soon as she'd said that, he slowly leaned his face into hers. Their lips met and stayed together. Finally, Sherlock parted first and remained inches from her lips. He smiled and spoke quietly.
"What happened to the lipstick?"
Molly chuckled softly. "It wasn't working for me."
Sherlock took his hands off her cheeks, without moving away from her face. "You're beautiful, Molly."
She blushed and wiped her tear-stained cheeks.
Again, Sherlock tenderly pressed his lips on hers and wrapped his arms around her tightly.
Molly felt as if he would never let go, but after all, that didn't bother her one bit.
The End
