Sherlock doesn't belong to me
Always Mattered
Sherlock tells himself that he's always known that Molly Hooper mattered, why else would he have chosen her office. Of all the medical examiners in London, he'd chosen her. Of course she mattered. Why else would he always see fit to make comments about her appearance? Why else would he invite her round for drinks on Christmas? Care that he'd hurt her feelings? Of course she mattered.
Even as Sherlock's heart is struggling with his logical brain he knows that this isn't true. Subconsciously she'd always mattered to him which is why he was always showing up at his office but he had never logically understood it.
Until now.
And he called himself a detective. Yet he had failed to detect this - to see Molly. Not the face she put on every day, not her attempts to attract him. No Molly Hooper, the real Molly Hooper. The hesitant woman who put up with his sarcastic remarks, who let him run roughshod over her but more importantly the woman who saw him.
And she did see him. When all the people closest to him couldn't see him – the real him, she did. And he was so glad that she did because she was the only one who could help him now. The only one he could trust.
Everyone, even Jim Moriarty had failed to see Molly and Sherlock had to admit it had taken him a while too but it wasn't too late. He still had a chance.
000
"I need you," Sherlock tells Molly.
"How can I help?" she replies, instantly.
In spite of the gravity of the situation, Sherlock shocks both of them by laughing and pulling her in for a hug, and twirling her round and round.
Everything is going to be fine, he knows.