PART I
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Corinthia Hotel London. Five Years, Two Months and Five Days After Eurus' game.
Molly Hooper focuses her mind on the sound of the piano and violin playing on the other room, trying to slow her heartbeat down to the tempo of the melody.
She looks down on the length of her white lace gown. She smiles. In a few moments she will look into the eyes of the man she loves. She will recite her vows and he will recite his. When this day is over, they will be wed.
She wishes her father were here with her.
A woman on her left nodded, queuing her to come in.
She took her first steps.
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Molly's flat, The Day of Eurus' Game
"I love you," she says and the line goes dead.
With shaking hands she put her phone down. She steadies herself.
Honestly, she doesn't even know why she asked.
At the moment, she wanted him to know the weight of those words, wanted him to feel it on his own mouth. She wanted him to understand why he could not just say it to him.
She did not expect him to say it like he did.
She did not expect him to say it with enough feeling to convince her – who she thought had already mastered looking past his manipulations – that he meant it.
She didn't expect herself to be moved enough to say it back.
Stupid, she thinks. He hung up. It was probably just another way for him to reinforce how much control he has on her.
She sighs, and tries to continue making tea.
An hour later, she would get sick of the questions running through her mind and call him.
Then, she would wait for him to pick up, until his voice message would answer her.
Molly knows better than to call again.
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Molly's flat. Two Weeks after Eurus' Game.
She tries not to think about the call. She tries not to think about him at all.
John asks her to watch of over Rosie. She smiles. She acts as if nothing is wrong. She doesn't ask about him.
"Has . . . has Sherlock talked to recently?" John asks out of the blue.
Molly stiffens. "No," she says, trying not to let her voice betray that something is wrong. "Why did you ask?"
"Nothing." John says, looking at her sympathetically. "Just. . .just give him time, Molly."
She doesn't ask what he meant by that.
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Watson's residence. Three years, Eleven Months and Two Days After Eurus' Game.
"What happens when people get married?" Four-year-old Rosie Watson asks her father while he was making sandwiches in the counter.
"Um, well, they make a new family, Rosie." John said. "Usually, they get a new house and live there. Then, if they want to, they can have kids. Why do you ask? Are you thinking of getting married?" John asks jokingly.
"No," Rosie said, humourless.
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Mycroft's office. Two Weeks and Three Days after Eurus' Game
"What's this?" Molly asks, turning over the key he gave to her on her hand.
"It's a key to your new flat. Apparently, your old one's lacking the security it needs." Mycroft says. "I would have given it to you sooner, but I got a bit busy."
"I don't need this," she says, giving the key back.
Mycroft nods, but he does not take the key back. "Do you believe that I trust you, Ms. Hooper?" he asks. "I've trusted you ever since my brother faked his death." He looks at her. "On the 15th, you received a call from my brother asking you to say three words: I love you. Am I correct?"
"How did you – "
"I was there." Mycroft interrupts. " Ms. Hooper, I'm going to tell you a family secret. I don't normally tell secrets, but lately, I've learned that sometimes, people need to hear the truth no matter how painful it is and I believe that you deserve to hear this one."
Mycroft continues. "My brother and I, we have a sister. Her name is Eurus Holmes. She is a year younger than Sherlock and was named after the god of the East Wind. At a young age, she exhibited an extraordinary intellect, one that surpasses Sherlock's, and even my own. However, at a very young age, she also exhibited tendencies that, when left unattended would cause her to become the most dangerous criminal ever known.
"She drowned Sherlock's childhood friend. She burned our childhood home. Naturally, my uncle thought it best to lock her up in Sherrinford, a high security island prison, even as a young child. Unfortunately, that plan backfired, and Eurus sought revenge.
"On the 15th, Eurus subjected the three of us – John, Sherlock and I – to a series of cruel games. One of which involves that phone call you received. Within three minutes, Sherlock needed to let you say the words 'I love you' or your flat would explode. So, he did what he had to do in order to elicit the words from you. He did it to save you, Ms. Hooper. It was not intended to do you any harm."
"Why are you telling me this, Mycroft?" Molly asks.
"Because, Ms. Hooper, the events that happened on the 15th put a lot of emotional stress on my brother. Even so, these past few days, I realized that my brother is much stronger than I gave him credit for. Sometimes, I think he has become even stronger than me. However, I also realized that he is stronger only because there are people around him that allowed him to be. People like Greg Lestrade, John Watson, Mrs. Martha Hudson, and yes, even you, Ms. Hooper." He looks at her, his eyes showing grave seriousness. "I hope. . . I hope that you can forgive him someday."
Mycroft removes his gaze from her. "If you ever change your mind about the flat, you can always call. However, I insist that your current flat be equipped with a security system it needs. That is non-negotiable. Don't worry, it will be subtle. You probably won't even notice it."
"Mycroft," Molly says. "I'm not afraid."
"I know," Mycroft says, before gesturing his PA to lead her out.
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Molly's flat. Three Weeks After Eurus' Game.
She is getting out of the flat to leave for work when she sees him at her doorstep leaving.
"Sherlock?"
He turns his attention at her, looking probably as shocked as she looked. After all the time she spent trying not to think about it – trying not to think about him – he's here.
"Molly," he says. "I – "
"You don't have to explain," she cut him, afraid that if he says something, she might break down right there. If they're going to have this conversation she wants to be in control. "Mycroft told me everything. About Eurus. About her games. About the real reason for that phone call. I understand, but that doesn't mean I'm not hurt."
"Now that I think about it, it's kind of good that it happened. At least . . . at least we can stop pretending. Everything I said that day was true," she continues.
"Look, I know you have a lot going on, so I won't make this hard for you. However, before I let this go, I want to ask you one thing. Answer this honestly for me, Sherlock. After that, I won't ever bring this up. I'll take your answer. I'll accept it and I'll continue to be your friend. Despite the tension of the moment, was there any part of you that meant the 'I love you'? Because when you said those words, there was something there that made me believe you. I just - " Molly sighs. " I just want to know the truth. I just want to know the truth, so that I would know if I should still hold on to this strand of hope that formed that day you called."
They stare at each other for what seems an eternity, each searching for something in each other's eyes.
"I . . . I care about you, Molly." Sherlock finally says.
"That's not what I wanted you to say," she says, her eyes starting to line with tears.
She withdraws her gaze from him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have - " Molly sighs. " I, um, hope you're doing well, Sherlock. See you at work."
She walks away, leaving him standing there. She does not look back.
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St. Bartholomew's Hospital Cafeteria. Three weeks and two days after Eurus' Game.
"Are you free next Saturday, Molly?" Meena asks as they carried their trays to the table.
"Okay. I know that tone. You're not setting me up on one of your blind dates again, are you? You promised you won't do that again." The brown haired pathologist answers her.
"Yes, yes. I know I promised, but this time it's different. I really think you'll get along with him."
"Meena – "
"Look. I know him personally as a very nice guy. He's smart and good looking. Most of all, he's lonely. He lost his fiancée a little more than two years ago, and he still can't move on. Honestly, he reminds me of you. I just really think that you can bond over your mutual loneliness and I don't know, help yourselves find your paths to happiness - maybe even together." Meena says, teasingly.
"Meena," Molly says, looking at her friend in all seriousness. "I'm not lonely."
"Molly," the olive skinned girl says. "Don't insult me. We've known each other for more than 20 years. I think I can accurately tell when you're lonely. Please, think about it."
"Meena, I can't. You know I can't. It wouldn't be fair."
A few moments passes before Meena sighs in resignation. "Fine," she says. "But if you ever change your mind, call me."
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Cocktail Trading Company. Three weeks and Five Days After Eurus' Game.
Her friends from work insisted that she come with them for a night out.
She obliged. She is starting to tune out of the oncologist's complaints about her husband when she sees her ex-fiancé go in the pub. He is not alone. On his arm is a beautiful tall blonde woman. She does not miss the way he lovingly looks at her and how the woman lovingly looks at him back. She does not miss the smile on her ex-fiancé's lips. She does not miss the ring on the woman's finger that had one day been on hers.
Meena notices that her attention was fleeting from their mutual friend's story and looks at the direction of her gaze. She sees what she is looking at.
"Excuse me, I'm going to the loo." Meena says. "Could you come with me, Molly?"
Molly nods, and they leave the table.
"Are you okay?" Meena says when they were out of the earshot.
"I am." Molly says. To be honest, she did not feel any hurt or jealousy after seeing her ex-fiancé moving on to another woman. Maybe a bit shocked at how early he did, but that's it. What she felt was more of something else. A sort of hollowness, a longing, a sensation that something is missing. "But maybe I am a bit lonely," she adds after a few moments.
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Galvin La Chapelle. One Month and One Day After Eurus' Game.
Molly approaches the man sitting at the table on the rightmost table.
"You must be Dr. Andrew Knightley." Molly says.
"And you must be Dr. Molly Hooper." He shakes hands with her. "Nice to meet you."
The waiter gives them the menu. Andrew asks her what she wants, but she opts to let him to order for her.
When the waiter left, Molly and Andrew fall silent. Molly's eyes study her date. He had short, messy, blonde hair and lovely blue eyes. He had a rectangular face and nice angular jaw. Also, even as he sat across of her, she can tell that he was very fit. Meena is right. He is good-looking. Not in a way that Sherlock is good-looking (when did she even start making Sherlock the reference for good looks, anyway?), but he's good-looking in his own way.
"I'm sorry." Andrew says, breaking the silence. "I haven't been in much dates lately. Actually, I haven't been in a date for a long time. Not since. . . well, not since Jane. I was actually thinking of not going, but Meena can be very persuasive. Not that I didn't want to meet you. I mean, Meena told me lots of great stuff about you, told me you were a forensic pathologist, very smart, very lovely, but I just thought it wouldn't go anywhere. Then, I thought that I should at least try. Not that I think your just some consolation. I mean, you look very nice and I - " He stopped himself. " I'm sorry. I'm just digging myself into a bigger hole, aren't I?"
She laughs. "Don't worry. I've been to worse dates." Much, much worse, she adds in her head. "Meena told me you were an A&E consultant?" she asks, changing the subject.
"Yeah," he says. "The stuff you see in there."
"I've probably seen worse, but then I deal with the dead."
He laughs, and she decides she likes him.
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Watson's Residence. Four years and One Week after Eurus' Game
Four year old Rosie Watson looks out for signs of her father outside her bedroom. When she does not find any, she closed her bedroom door.
Gingerly, she removes a small red velvety box from her pocket. She opens it, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.
She closes the box and hides it under her bed.