*emerges slowly from a jungle bush* I have returned! I'm so sorry I've been away for so long, I blame high school... And tumblr. So this idea was rattling around in my head for a while, hope you enjoy!x
TheHeadphoneGirl
Boredom. It ached through every fibre of Sherlock's being, and was unacceptable. Usually there was always something he could be doing, if there wasn't a case he could play his beloved violin, or call John or annoy Mycroft, or experiment. But not today.
He looked at his phone again only to be disappointed again. Nothing. Not a text. A missed call, no one was even attempting to speak with him. Whether it's about a case or something else entirely. When John went away on his sex holiday with Mary, he seemed to take all the criminals with him. Even Mrs Hudson had gone to some sort of convention for lonely old people who liked a certain TV programme, a ridiculous idea, in Sherlock's head anyway. His violin sat across from him, as if mocking him for his inability to play due to...well, sherlock didn't really know what it was but it was occupying too much of his precious mind palace for him to think about it. It wasn't withdrawal, no, no that is a totally different feeling...hmm.
"Well, I can at least try and deal with this, feeling, until Barts opens I suppose" Sherlock spoke softly to himself.
He tried for a while to figure out the feeling, but he got bored of it. It seemed to change quickly and move swiftly from different rooms in his mind palace, but eventually he caught the feel and locked it in a drawer in his smallest room where he kept the rest of his feelings, not even bothering to look at what it was.
He then opened his eyes and looked at the clock. 2 hours. 2 hours until Barts was open and Molly's shift started.
"Thank God for Molly" he thought to himself. She was like an angel that, instead of giving him blessings, gave him body parts.
Sherlock can barely admit it to himself, let alone anyone else, but Molly was probably the person who knew him best outside his family. Yes John does know a large amount of detail about Sherlock's personality, and Lestrade knows his life story better than anyone, due to his criminal record, but sweet little Molly was the person who knew both inside out. She has dealt with his tantrums, his relapses and everything in between. They had known each other for 6 years. Sherlock and seen or heard about every boyfriend, every goldfish, every family visit. At first Sherlock found them unquestionably boring, but bit by bit, Sherlock slowly started to piece together Molly's life. He also started to want to ask questions about Molly, as she asked him. But that would imply caring. Couldn't have anyone knowing he cared about 'The St Barts Morgue Mouse', now could he? Well, not at that point, anyway. Sherlock then decided to piece up a sort of timeline in the Molly Hooper room of his mind palace for a while, surprisingly enjoying it.
He then suddenly opened his eyes to see it was only 15 minutes till Barts opened. He then got up, changed into his white shirt instead of the navy one he was wearing, for no reason at all, and grabbed his infamous coat and ran out the door to get a cab.