A blast of cold air blew through the automatic doors of the hospital catching Molly off-guard. She drew her coat more tightly around her body and pulled on her knitted woolen hat, which she had luckily remembered to grab on her way out the door that morning. Even though the cold was to be expected at this time of year, she was still mentally unprepared for the sudden change in temperature since she had spent the whole day in her warm and cozy office finishing up her research paper.

After being confined indoors all day with the hospital smells of chemicals and disinfectant, it felt invigorating to breathe in the crisp air. She paused a moment to take it in. Most people she knew complained when the cold weather arrived, but she loved it. It energized her and made her feel alive.

The twilight had turned the sky a brilliant dark blue and the horizon glowed in the distance. It was that transitional period of the day when anything seemed possible. October had arrived which meant she often went without seeing the sun for days at a time. Unless she was on a late shift, most days it was dark both ways of her commute. But Molly loved Scotland at this time of year. When she wasn't at work, she tried to soak in the autumn sights and smells as much as possible. Everything turned golden and there was a beautiful bleakness that added a romance to the stark landscape. She took weekend trips to the coast or the highlands as often as possible just to breathe the fresh air and hike the ancient landscape. Soon winter would arrive and the unpredictable weather and dreariness would force her to stay home. Autumn, though, was her favorite season for being outdoors.

Even though Glasgow would never feel like home, it certainly wasn't a bad place to live. One aspect of her life in the city that she loved most was living close enough to the university hospital that she could walk. It was her chance to unwind after a long day in the morgue. After being surrounded by death all day, it was always a nice change of pace to see the signs of life in the neighborhood: the children laughing as they played in the park, the dogs barking as she passed by their gates, the uni students chatting animatedly as they walked to class, the conversations floating in the air outside busy pubs. While she loved her job, it was nice to get away at the end of the day and leave it behind. Aaron never understood how she could work in pathology and be so cheery, but then he was a cardiologist so he was used to keeping people alive, not figuring out why they died.

Aaron…shit. She had almost forgotten about their plans. He was stopping by to pick up the rest of his belongings that were still at her flat. She dug her phone out of her bag to check the time. There were a few minutes to spare but she was going to have to pick up the pace. So much for a leisurely stroll home.

Molly arrived at her flat out of breath. Toby greeted her at the door as always begging to be fed. He may not move as quickly as he used to since he had grown old and fat, but he was as predictable as always. At the last vet appointment, she had been scolded for overfeeding him and the vet had put him on a strict diet. If only Dr. Turner could see his face right now. Molly felt like even he would have a hard time refusing him. Toby was so easy to spoil.

She kicked off her shoes and filled his dish. "Here you go, sweetie. A nice bowl of diet food." Toby looked unimpressed but devoured it anyways. He finished and immediately pleaded for more. "Sorry honey, you know what the doctor said."

Molly shrugged off her coat and poured herself a glass of wine just as the doorbell rang. She looked over at the cardboard box sitting by the door, took a deep breath, and pressed the buzzer to let him in. This was it. The end. It was almost a relief to have it over with, but she was still not looking forward to the conversation.

With a cautious smile, she opened the door. Aaron was standing there gravely, his blond hair shone in the light of the hallway. He had a solemn expression that was unreadable.

"Come on in."

He hesitated and looked as if he might refuse, but stepped inside.

"Can I get you some wine?"

"No, thanks." He crossed his arms nervously and seemed to stand farther away from her than was necessary.

"I think I've gathered up everything." Molly pointed to the box which contained some of his clothes, a toothbrush, and CDs and books that she'd borrowed at various times through the years. Even though he had moved out some time ago, she still had managed to find traces of him while cleaning her flat. This was the last of it. The only things she would have left now were memories.

Aaron nodded and an awkward silence followed.

"Come sit down." Molly walked over to the far side of the couch, expecting Aaron to join her. Instead, he sat in the chair across the room, not even bothering to remove his coat. He seemed unable to look her in the eye and instead focused on his hands that were clenched in his lap.

Molly cleared her throat trying to force down the sadness that had suddenly taken a hold of her. She thought she had moved past this, but it was just so hard to see him like this. Goodbyes never were easy, but he seemed to be struggling with it worse than she had originally thought.

"Look, Aaron, I'm really sorry about…everything. I hope you can understand my reasons and that we can still be friends."

Aaron swallowed, still looking down at his hands. He seemed to be considering his answer with great care.

"I thought things were going to be different, Molls. I thought-" his voice caught and Molly could see the pain on his face. She felt awful because she remembered when they were happy and planning their future and now that was no longer happening. In the end, she couldn't give him what he wanted. About halfway through their relationship a small voice inside told her that he wasn't the one. She was able to ignore it for a while, but it only continued to grow until one day she simply couldn't deny it any longer. They just weren't on the same page and she had to be honest with him.

"I know, Aaron. I did too."

Molly thought back to the time they met six and a half years ago. Had it really been that long? The memories flooded her brain. London. Bart's. Sherlock.

Sherlock.

Moran was dead.

After nearly a year of terrorizing London, he had finally been brought down and his network dismantled. He had orchestrated the Moriarty hacking to scare the entire city and also to bring Sherlock back with the intention of publicly humiliating him. Although there were times when Moran seemed to be in control and evade capture, Sherlock outwitted him in the end just as he had with Moriarty. It had taken a year of diligent work, but at the end of it all Sherlock was once again considered a hero. The authorities, however, had not forgotten about the killing of Magnussen. Sherlock was placed on house arrest for six months after Moran was caught as a delayed punishment. There had been a public outcry. Magnussen was hated by many and Sherlock had taken out the threat of Moran, but the government officials did not want to seem lenient for a murder charge. At first there had been talk of sending him off to Europe once again, but Mycroft and Lady Smallwood were able to get the sentence changed. For a man like Sherlock used to being active and always on the move, it was almost a crueler punishment. Even though he would never admit it, Molly knew that Mycroft did it with his brother's safety in mind. He loved his brother no matter what either said. She could see it. Once Sherlock served his time, he would be free once again and the matter would be over.

During this period, Molly didn't see Sherlock much. During the Moran case, he was always busy. When it was over, she was only allowed at Baker Street a couple times a month due to strict visitor limits. At first, she had been diligent and visited him as often as possible. It was a little intimidating, as there had to be guards in the room. Personal conversations were out of the question, but they talked about their work and spent happy hours together. Molly brought him presents in the form of leftover organs and blood samples from Bart's, which he was very appreciative of. She knew he was suffering from boredom due to his casework being extremely limited by his situation.

After a couple of months though, Molly noticed a change in Sherlock. He became more withdrawn. He spoke less and when he did he seemed agitated. Molly couldn't understand this sudden change. Was he just tired of being confined? They had always been so open with each other so it seemed unusual. One day after being frustrated by his moodiness she asked him directly what was wrong.

"I don't think you should come here anymore, Molly."

Molly couldn't help but be surprised. He had never refused to see her in all the years she'd known him. "Why?"

"You just shouldn't." His jaw clenched.

"Did I do something wrong?" She glanced over at the man standing guard by the door. He was looking straight ahead and either not listening or trying to give them space.

"No. This is just me telling you not to come anymore." Sherlock's blue eyes stared straight through her. Though his words sounded harsh, he didn't look angry. He seemed more sad than anything.

"Why? What did I do?"

"Nothing."

"Well, you must have a reason."

"Does everything have to have a reason? Maybe I just don't want you to come here anymore."

"You can't just decide something like that. You obviously have a reason that you're not telling me. Something has caused this and I want to know what it is."

Sherlock stood up and picked up his violin. He began to absentmindedly pluck at the strings.

Molly stood and crossed her arms. "I'm waiting for an answer."

Sherlock looked at her. "Perhaps you shouldn't." He was in one of his difficult moods and was obviously not going to give an answer that she wanted. Molly grabbed her coat and started to leave.

"I'll find out what this is about." As soon as she walked out the door, the sounds of a mournful tune floated through the hallway.

Her mobile rang immediately as she arrived at her flat. It was John.

"Molly, have you seen Sherlock yet?" His voice sounded worried.

"Yes I just got back from visiting him. What is up with him? He basically just threw me out for no reason."

"Oh bugger. I had hoped to warn you."

"Warn me about what?"

"Sherlock told me about this last night. He's trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what?"

"From danger. From getting hurt. Look something happened during the Moran case…" A child's cry in the background interrupted him.

"What happened?"

"Sorry Moll, I've got to go. Amelia just managed to knock over the entire container of milk and Mary isn't here. I think Sherlock should be the one to tell you anyways…" He hung up before Molly could ask what he meant.

John told me something happened during the Moran case. Is this what today was about? - MH

Sherlock didn't respond to the text. Nor did he respond to her voice mail. She was not able to visit him for another two weeks so she was forced to wait.

Exactly two weeks later she received a response.

Come over and I will explain. - SH

Sherlock was seated in his chair when Molly entered. He was wearing a dark blue dressing gown and his hands were pressed together and drawn under his chin. When he noticed her walk in, he gestured towards John's old chair for her to sit.

After Molly removed her coat and sat down, Sherlock nodded towards the guard. The man stepped into the hall and shut the door behind him.

"I promised him that he could shoot me if I tried to escape." There was a hint of a smile on Sherlock's face and Molly felt herself relax. He seemed more like himself.

"First of all, I want to apologize for the last time you were here. I had no right to treat you like that after everything you've done for me. I'm sorry."

Molly smiled to herself. He obviously had a lot of time to think these days. She wondered what else had been on his mind. "It's okay. I knew there must be a reason."

"Something happened while we were tracking down Moran that I've kept from you. It didn't seem necessary to alarm you at the time since nothing came of it, but-" he paused a moment before continuing. "About six months ago, Mycroft and I started to suspect that Moran had learned about your…connection to me. We received an anonymous tip that he had discovered what you did to help me with Moriarty and we had reason to believe he might try to target you in order to get to me."

Sherlock stood up and began to pace around the room. "There wasn't a direct threat against you, it was only speculation so we decided not to warn you. Instead, we had Mycroft's men watching out for you. There was someone stationed outside your flat and someone was always nearby whenever you went out. You were never in any real danger."

Molly suddenly felt like an idiot. All this was going on and she had no idea.

"One night some weeks later there was…an incident outside your flat." Sherlock looked at her before resuming his pacing. "Mycroft's man noticed a suspicious car and called for backup. I was also contacted and arrived before anyone else. I found our man unconscious in his car. He had been knocked in the head. I then noticed two men trying to pick the lock of your flat. I managed to…disengage them before the rest of Mycroft's men showed up and took them in for questioning. We later discovered that the men had been sent by Moran to…" Sherlock's voice trailed off. He stopped and rested his hand on the top of his chair.

"What were they planning to do to me?" Molly tried to keep her voice still.

"It doesn't matter now-"

"Tell me, Sherlock."

Sherlock walked over to the window so Molly couldn't see his face.

"Most likely they were going to kidnap you to get me to back off. Moran had been made aware of my…regard for you. If they had you, Moran knew he could be in control and get me to do their bidding."

Molly swallowed. "You mean they could control you, if they had me."

"Possibly." After a brief silence, Sherlock turned around and sat back down in his chair. "Anyways, the men were arrested and in exchange for a reduced sentence they told us valuable information about Moran and his network which helped us track him down. Two months later we had him cornered and he knew it. He must have decided that dying was preferable to being back in prison. As you know he was killed in a shootout with the police. Once he was dead, picking off the remaining members of his network was easy."

"Okay…well…this is a lot of information to take in. I would have preferred to been made aware of this when it was happening."

"There was no need to alarm you. Mycroft and I had the situation under control."

"Well, I guess what matters is that nothing happened, though I'm still a little angry about you not telling me. But what does this have to do with what you said the last time I was here?"

"There will always be another Moran or Moriarty, Molly. Something like this could happen again. I can't guarantee your safety. After this near slip…it just put everything into perspective. I've had time to think about it. At first, I thought I could put it behind me, but…it's not fair to you. It's better for you if you stay away from me." His steely focus was now directed at her.

"But what about my say in this? What if I don't want to stay away from you? There are always risks you have to take in life, Sherlock. There are always going to be bad people out there no matter who you are." Molly felt her cheeks turn red with anger.

Sherlock's face showed no emotion.

"Anyone connected to me will always be at greater risk. I'm sorry, Molly, but I can't let you get hurt."

"What if you're hurting me right now? Did you think about that?"

"Your anger will die down eventually. The hurt will go away. The mind is quite remarkable at forgetting. You will move on with your life."

Molly looked down and realized she had been clenching her fists so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. She took a deep breath to calm herself.

"What about you, Sherlock? If you have so called "regard" for me, will you just forget about me too? Would you rather be alone instead of with someone that cares for you? What about John and Mary? Did you tell them to stay away too?"

"John and Mary are both good shots. They can defend themselves and their daughter. I've always been alone so it will have no impact on me." His face twitched. "Molly, trust me it's better this way."

"Better for whom? Your problem is that you always think you know what's best for everyone." She grabbed her coat and put her arms in the sleeves with greater force than was necessary. "I would rather be happy and take risks in life than be miserable and alone. But it takes two to have a relationship. I can't force you, Sherlock. I would tell you I hope you're happy, but apparently happiness is not something you care about."

She slammed the door as hard as she could on her way out.

He wanted to be alone. Fine. He could have his way. She was done trying to convince him after all these years. He could just be miserable. She wanted love. She wanted happiness. And damn it she was going to find it even if it wasn't with him.

But oh how badly she wanted it to be him…

This is sort of based on my love of stories about second chances such as Persuasion and Jane Eyre (two of my absolute favorite books). I'm using them more as inspiration than doing a retelling. Not sure how long this is going to be yet. The next chapter will be more flashbacks and then we'll get to present day. The title comes from a song I'm obsessed with right now: "Be The One" by Haerts. Thanks for reading!