Patience: is a person's ability to wait something out or endure something tedious, without getting riled up, not to give up.
Who knew someone would wait. Wait for me that is. I have not fathomed anyone going through great lengths just for me. But "he" did. Sherlock Holmes. He persistently endured a tormenting situation that I didn't quite understand at the time.
Prologue
Everything can change so quickly…
We haven't spoken for weeks come to think of it. A few spats here and there we had, but our last one, it struck a nerve in me. I needed a break from us. Sherlock didn't take it well; in fact he turned bitterly cold towards me. His once vibrant blue passionate eyes peering at me turned into icy hostile eyes that could slice through my heart. At this point I decided in my head that maybe it was for the best. Oh but I knew how wrong I was. I found myself driving in stormy weather. John had phoned me to come to Baker Street urgently, it was about Sherlock. Rushing was such a bad, no, a reckless idea. I had to get to him as soon as possible. The need…the need to know everything was ok, that he hasn't done something idiotic. I was worried. Laughing to myself I knew I still couldn't let go of this man. I love him. I knew for sure that we would work things out and all will be well. But that didn't happen.
A loud horn went off and as soon as I jerked my head to the noise a huge beam of light enclosed around me and I felt my whole body be pushed violently. My car spun out of control and I was jolted forward through the dash board. Then everything went dark.
Slowly her eyes started to open. 'Bright.' Her eyes started to adjust to the light. She now could see that she was in a room. In a bed. 'Why am I here? What happened?' She hears repetitive beats and turns her head to see a heart monitor. 'Hospital?' Looking down at herself she sees she's in a blue hospital gown and an IV on her arm. 'Yup hospital for sure.' A massive shot of pain went to her head. Molly grunted and unconsciously reaches toward the pain and feels fabric wound around the area. 'Wow Molly what have you done to yourself this time?'
"Seems that you are up, Miss Hooper."
Molly looks up in surprise and sees a man in white. 'A doctor.'
"Hello.."
"How does your head feel?" The Doctor comes closer to examine her head.
"It feels like it's been hit by a freight train." Molly groans placing her hand up to her head again.
"Hm I would suggest not aggravating your stitches. What is your first name?" He says while flashing a little light in her eyes.
"Molly, sir."
"Alright good, how many fingers am I showing?"
"Two." Molly sighs. "You know I don't feel that bad, do you think I will be able to go home soon?"
"I'm sorry Miss Hooper, but I think you should probably stay for at least another day-"
"But why?" Molly asked questionably.
"Well miss, you were in a car wreck. Thankfully you survived. You busted your head. We need to keep you under observation just in case you might have any side effects from your concussion."
"…Oh" Molly peered at him dumbfounded. "….Car wreck?"
"Do you not remember what happened?" The doctor's expression becoming concerned.
"…No I don't doctor.."
"Can you recall the reason wh-"The doctor was cut short when he heard shouting outside, when suddenly a tall dark curly-haired man busted through the doors. He froze in place when his eyes met hers. The grave expression that was on his face instantly softened and became full of concern. "…Molly" his baritone voice filled the room. He advanced quickly from across the room to her bedside. Fervently he grabbed her small hand into his and placed it on his face. His eyes were shielded with his hair; she could feel the tears falling into her palms, for he was crying.
"Well…I'll leave you two alone, ask if you need me for anything." The doctor said and left the room.
"…M-molly…I-I am…" the man chokes on his words and takes a few breathes. He intensely gazes into her doe-like eyes. "…sorry…so sorry…I didn't mean.." His voice cracks again.
A silence ensues for a few minutes.
"…I'm sorry…bu-" Molly starts to say.
"No Molly…this is my fault…all of it..this would have never happened if-"
"..I'm sorry…but sir I don't know who you are.."
The man's brows knit together. Shock set all over his face. "..Molly…it's me..Sherlock…" he says desperately.
"..Sherlock?"
"Yes, Molly…I'm Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes..don't you remember?" His eyes starting to well up and he was about to break.
"…I don't know you" Molly frowned. "I'm sorry sir…I don't know a Sherlock Holmes."