Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously. Only the plot.
Just a sudden burst of idea and here it is. I don't think I executed it the way I want to and how it should be so I might go back and change/add a few things here and there but this is pretty much the idea of the story. Unbeta'd. English is not my vernacular so grammar issues are present.
It took years for Molly Hooper to finally get Sherlock Holmes's attention and heart.
It took months for both Sherlock and Molly to go on unusual dates as a couple.
It took a week for Sherlock to ready himself to ask the pathologist's hand for marriage.
It took a day for the couple to become husband and wife.
And it just took Irene Adler a good 15 minutes to get the consulting detective's body.
But it just took a second to break the pathologist's heart.
When he woke up beside Irene Adler, his mind processed what just had happened. What he did and what he got himself into. Then when the realization hit him like a hard, large boulder, and he knew he's doomed for a lifetime.
He sat up, his back against the headboard, and buried his face on his large, pale hands. 'I'm going to lose my wife. I'm going to lose Molly. My beloved, faithful wife.'
Then he looked at the sleeping, naked woman beside him. The Woman who easily got him to bed her. To have animalistic fuck with her. To let out the sexual frustration she gave him years ago. To lose his wife.
The thought of Molly leaving him gave his body chills and an unpleasant constriction on his stomach; like a tight, thick rope slowly squeezing the life out of him. Then thousands of possible scenarios were suddenly searing on his goddamn mind, like the pain that will appear on Molly's soft and peaceful face, Molly filing for divorce, Molly leaving him for good, Molly not forgiving him, Molly finding the man he isn't ever going to be, Molly having animalistic fuck with another man, a man who will make Sherlock Holmes, the great consulting detective, disappear on her mind even for a night. Molly, Molly, Molly, Molly...
It made his mind throb. His blood boiling on the thought of a man touching his wife, fucking his wife, but nothing made him even madder with the thought of Molly making love with another man. Because fucking and making love are two different things; fucking is just for the sake of one's pleasure while making love is for giving each other the euphoria of pleasure, a sense of peace and giving immense trust to another person, an act of making someone know that you love him or her and that you want them to feel good...
With these thoughts on his mind, he now know how Molly will feel once she finds out. The gravity of the situation and the consequences are drowning his very existence.
He knew what he had done was wrong, so wrong, and that he can't go back and change what shouldn't have happened in the first place. But he gave in. He gave in on his body's command. The wanton lust taking control of his body and clouded his once logical mind. He just let himself feel.
He tried to deny the fact that he's attracted to The Woman. Of course he is! He wouldn't be beside her if he wasn't. He wouldn't lie to himself just to sugarcoat the truth that he is, indeed, attracted to her. But it's just that-attracted to her. Nothing more, nothing less. He just want to fuck her then leave. But it isn't going to be that easy, is it? Not when his marriage is at stake. Not when his life and heart are at stake. He had done what a husband shouldn't do; sleep with another woman. It wouldn't make any difference if the infidelity is either emotional (which is not. Definitely not that is what he's sure of) or physical. He cheated on his wife. He slept with another woman.
He just want to go away and crawl back on his wife's warm embrace and loving kisses. To hide himself there and delete what had happened and never go back here again.
And that's what he did. He ran away like a child. Turning his back on the problem that he himself have created.
The one night liaison with Irene had been bugging his mind, it's occupying his mind like a bug making its way to torture a man. He'd been taking a lot more patches than he needed for a day. Just when he thought he had been careful of hiding this habit of his, he had failed to notice that his wife caught his strange and unusual behavior.
"I slept with him," she said "He willingly slept with me. Even told me he had wanted to shag me after the case I was involved with."
Molly's breath caught at her throat. She can barely breathe. At first she didn't believe her, but she had heard of this woman before.
She knows what she wants.
"I'll be straight with you, Mrs. Holmes," she said sultry "I want your husband. He submitted himself to me and I gave him what he wanted. And since the feeling is mutual, apparently, I want him too. I think it's time to talk to your beloved husband, don't you think?"
But Irene left out the necessary details; like Sherlock telling her it was just a built up sexual frustration and that he didn't made love to her but just fucked her like a whore. But it won't change anything anyway, he still shagged her. He slept with another woman. And that's that.
Molly gave out a rather loud laugh. A laugh at her own expense, at that. It made her mind throb and spin. Then tears of pain and sadness pour out of her once gleeful eyes. Not believing herself that she trusted the man that she loved with her heart. The same man who betrayed her and left her heart torn apart.
This is his worst nightmare. She had finally done it. After the questions and truthful answers, she still left and told him they give each other time to breathe and think about the future of their relationship. He pleaded for her not to leave, told her that he really love her (and he really do) and that it was a mistake that he gave in and slept with her. But he can't blame her now, can he? The damage had been done after all. All he can do is silently let the tears fall from his eyes.
The silence of the flat his only solace, and the darkness enveloping him almost like mocking the same darkness that he feels inside.
He wanted to punish himself. But all he can do is welcome his old friend back and let himself at least feel comfort, even if he doesn't deserve it.
It's been a week since Molly left, and he had never felt this sad and desperate before. Irene visited but he immediately told her that she leave him alone and never come back.
He pleaded for her not to come back and give the life that we wanted and needed: the life with his wife Molly.
The look on Irene's face gave away her answer. For once, she made the right decision. And he silently thanked her for that.
Molly came back at the flat a week after. She finally cleared her mind and readied herself for the talk with her husband.
She loves him. She really do and she would do anything for him. But some things are not always worth forgetting. It was hard for her to accept the fact that his husband had cheated on her. That he slept with another woman because he had wanted to. Yet he saw the desperation and sadness in his eyes, and she almost gave in to forgive him. Almost.
When she came to the flat, Sherlock was on the couch curled up, looking asleep and peaceful. But he knows her footsteps and he immediately sat up to greet her.
She had never seen him in this kind of state before. His hair in disarray and looking very exhausted and stressed. His eyes were red and puffy, the tears evident on the corner of his eyes.
"It's time."
Maybe she's too stupid to forgive him for what he had done. But it wasn't an easy decision. Sherlock had been honest to her, told her what she should hear and not what she want to hear. But she's Molly; forgiving, loving, and passionate. Maybe even stupid. He married Sherlock, chose this life with him, and that means she will face the challenges that life has to offer-and this is one of those.
It was a mistake. A huge mistake for Sherlock's part. He's readied himself whatever Molly's decision will be but he didn't expected the forgiveness that she willingly gave.
He fell down on his knees and wrapped his long, lean arms around her small waist. Tears were pouring out from both of their eyes. Molly telling him she still loves him and she's probably really stupid to forgive him. But also telling him she will never forget it, but is willing to start all over again. And Sherlock muttering his neverending apologies to her.
They say if you love someone, you should submit yourself only to that person. But a man is sometimes weak. He has weaknesses and sometimes makes rash decisions that can and will destroy his future. Temptations are around, ready to attack you when you're at your weakest. But he's just too lucky to have Molly. A woman who forgave him for what he had done. It wasn't easy, he knows. It would take a very long time for them to patch things up. Things will be awkward and all that.
Trust had been broken. Love is still present. He had been weak once. She had been stupid many times. But both are willing to give the relationship a chance, even if it may take a really long time.
At 60, Sherlock and Molly lay beside each other on their bed at the same flat that witnessed so many changes. The silence of the room and each other their only solace. So many things had come to challenge their relationship. The foundation of love and trust had been challenged by time and fate. Yet they still stood strong.
Their hands were interlaced, the rings gleaming from the light that the window offered. Sherlock looked at it, admired how it gleamed, and things and emotions seared his mind and heart again. He had done so many mistakes that hurt both him and his beloved wife. So many things that gave his wife reasons to leave him and yet she didn't. She still stayed by his side, giving him all the love that he still think up to this day he doesn't deserve.
Then he looked at his wife, the mirth and innocence from her eyes came back. She placed a soft kiss on their interlaced hands, and gave out a giggle that he had always found so charming. Almost like a music that he wouldn't get tired hearing of.
Challenges faced them like financial and familial problems. But the capital mistake that he did in his whole life was cheating on his wife. It slapped him on the face and woke up from the realization of life and the possiblity of what his late life would be like without Molly around. It would definitely be cold and unhappy. So after the emotional turmoil, he gave himself completely to her. He fell on her grace and did everything to let her know that he's genuinely sorry and that he still loves her.
And here they are now. Old, balding, and weak. But the love is still strong, both souls willing to do everything to make each other happy. It wasn't too late for forgiveness and love. Molly had let herself forgive him and she wasn't left disappointed with the second chance she gave. Just looking at his wife made his heart burst with happiness and love. Love, he thought, what a confusing emotion. But I guess it isn't unpleasant as I thought it to be.
Sherlock let out a tearful sob at everything that had happened. He never deserved this life with Molly. It took a one naked dominatrix to almost lose the woman who saved him from his own insanity.
If he had been with Irene, he would have a dangerous life. Irene was a vicious woman, ready to attack and take what she wanted. But Molly, his wife, is all about giving and seldom taking. And he, on the other hand, is all taking and seldom giving.
But that was before. It is now, and now's the time to repay all the givings that she gave.
"Thank you," he said softly and kissed her hand.
That's all he can say. His mind produces so many thoughts about what he wanted to tell her, but all his mouth said was a simple thank you. He didn't need to say elaborate it all anyway. Molly reads him like an open book and she understood what he meant by that simple verbal gratitude.
They balance each other out. There's the one who is cold and private and there's the other who is warm and loving. After all that had happened, they learned that it's all give and take, forgiveness and love, a few challenges here and there, and that all it takes to get through it all is to help each other out.
It took years for them to patch things up.
It took a decade to finally open themselves to another chapter in their life.
But it only took a one small pathologist to change the consulting detective's once chaotic life.
Author's Note: Reviews and criticisms are welcome. I know I can be redundant and vague about things so I would appreciate it if any of you offer advice on how I can fix on that. :)