I Want You Back
How does one go about taking back words regretted?
How does a heart admit its mistake when the brain knows it's all for naught?
"Molly…" he mutters in his sleep, dreaming of the night he pushed his biggest happiness out the door. He dreams of it constantly, looking for a way to travel back into that particular moment to stop his own self from saying the stupidest, most idiotic words he's ever said.
Or at least, to run after her before she could leave his life forever.
John's heart breaks for his friend, because after every case, Sherlock takes his phone out to text Molly. He sees him typing one time, [Case is solved, it was the second son. On my way home, I'll buy dinner on the way. –SH], and it's all John can do not to sigh sadly. He pretends he never sees Sherlock text his wife who'd never reply.
Mary's heart breaks for her friend, because every time she drops by 221B to chat with Mrs. Hudson and say hello to Sherlock, Sherlock smiles and apologizes that Molly's not there currently because of a trip.
Greg's heart breaks for his friend, because whenever he texts Sherlock for a case, Sherlock replies with I'll ask Molly if she can wheel the body out for me. –SH.
Mycroft's heart breaks for his brother, because through his surveillance he sees his little brother stare out the window every night, waiting for someone to come home. It doesn't take a genius to deduce whom he's waiting for.
Mrs. Hudson's heart breaks for her tenant, her son by choice, because whenever she comes up to check on Sherlock and make sure he ate dinner, there're always two plates on the kitchen table, and she knows the extra plate isn't for her.
And every night, Sherlock's heart breaks for the wife he drove away with his angry words, words she never deserved. He finds himself wondering if she's thinking of him, wondering if she knows he didn't mean what he said, wondering when she'll come back to him so he could apologize for being so bloody stupid. It's been two years, Molly. Please come back soon.
Note: Ah, the angst. Quite dramatic, but the author views Sherlock Holmes as a fiercely loyal person and once he connects with a person truly, that sentiment shall remain forever. Such as his connection to Lestrade as a comrade, to John as a friend, to Mrs. Hudson as his mother-figure. And if he ever falls in love (the author would like to think it'd be Molly who'd cause him to), it would be for life.