Without You Here

I'd been pardoned for my crimes after solving the whole Moriarty debacle. I should be happy that my life can go back to normal, but nothing is normal. I have lost so much in the process. If I was really honest, I lost what mattered most even before Moriarty's return, but it's only now that he's gone that the loss really hits home. After his return I scattered my friends across the globe in hopes of keeping them safe, but she decided not to return. She decided that she couldn't take the disappointment any longer.

Moriarty always told me that he would burn the heart out of me, but I did that all on my own. I pushed the boundaries too many times and hurt her in the process. I guess there's only so much someone can take even from someone you love. So I've lost her, and without her I'm only a shell of the man I once was. I find the only reason I haven't turned back to drugs is the memory of the disappointment on her face and the sting of her hand across my own.

I haven't left Baker Street in weeks. John stops by to check up on me almost daily, but mostly seems to understand my melancholy. Lestrade keeps trying to lure me out with cases, but I find that solving the puzzles no longer satisfies me the way it did before. I find myself spending most of my days living within my mind palace just to be near her.

I tried to explain my feelings for her after Moriarty's demise, but she told me that she didn't believe me and that even if it was the truth it was too late. So here I am a lost soul trying to solve the greatest mystery of all: how to prove my love to Molly Hooper.

"Molly, you need to come back to London, please," John was pleading on the phone. The sound of his voice breaking my heart all over again. I hated leaving my friends behind after the threat of Moriarty was gone, but I couldn't go back and face the pain that Sherlock had caused. Maybe I was running away, but after the drugs and Janine I just couldn't get over the ache that was eating away at me. The knowledge that despite all of the ways that I could see the real Sherlock Holmes he was never going to tear down that wall he had built around himself. Despite his sweet words, his pouring out his feelings to me, I no longer know what's real and what a lie is when it comes to him and me.

"You know why I can't come back, I won't put myself through that pain any longer," I could hear my voice crack with each word. I told myself I wouldn't cry when I answered the phone, but knew that I wouldn't be able to stop myself.

"He hasn't left the flat in weeks Molly. I doubt he's eating or sleeping. He spends most of his time in his mind palace. He won't take cases, and he barely notices any of us when we stop by to check on him. He's broken Molly." His words brought on the tears in full force.

"John," I sobbed into the phone. "You can't tell me that. Please just hang up now so I can go on pretending that I can move on with my life."

"I'm not going to do that Molly. Sherlock is my best friend and he has saved me more times than I can count now and I will save him any way I possibly can. You are the only one who can save him. You always were and always will be. You are the only person who has ever been able to get through to him. You have to know that," his voice still pleading. At his words I find I need to sit on the floor, my head resting between my knees. The pain in my heart tearing me apart all over again.

"I'll think about it," I replied in an almost whisper.

"Thank you Molly," John sighed into the phone.

Almost immediately after hanging up the phone I was purchasing an airline ticket back to London. I loved Sherlock too much. I make a promise to myself that I'm not going to stay, that I'll come back home to my new life.

I'm surprised to find Mycroft Homes waiting for me when I land, considering I didn't tell anyone I would be coming. I'm also surprised that he actually came himself instead of sending one of his men to come get me. He stood there as stiffly and stoic as ever, his trusty umbrella in hand. It's nice to know some things haven't changed.

"Mycroft," I said as I walked over to where he was standing.

"Doctor Hooper, I'm glad you finally came to your senses," his dry voice replied.

"I just came to check on him. I fully intend returning back to the States."

"If that's what you wish to believe," his voice clearly displaying his disbelief.

He drove me straight to Baker Street. The car ride was silent and uncomfortable.

"Doctor Hooper, I hope you're prepared for this. He's not the Sherlock Holmes you remember. He's no longer the Sherlock any of us knew," the sadness I caught in his voice made me pause. Sometimes I forget that Mycroft is Sherlock's brother that he cares for him too, even if he shows feelings even less than Sherlock. All I can do is nod in response. I was nervous before, but now I'm scared.

I decide John must have forgotten something when I hear the footsteps on the stairs. They sound lighter, but I can't let myself hope. I close my eyes and escape into my mind palace, walking the halls searching for her. With every passing day it's harder to find her, my mind is starting crumble in her absence. I hear her voice calling my name and try to follow it, but can't seem to find her. I'm startled when I can feel her slight hand upon my shoulder.

"Great now I'm hallucinating," I mumble when I see her standing before me. Her eyes look sad as she takes me in.

"Sherlock, what have you done to yourself?" the imaginary Molly asks me.

"You left me Molly. You're not even here now, just a figment of my imagination. I really must be a glutton for punishment. I told you I loved you and you walked away. You may not believe it, but I can feel, and without you I don't know who I am. My brother always told me I was a fool, that caring was not an advantage. I guess I proved him right."

"Sherlock, stop, just stop!"

"Are you going to slap me now too? That's what you did last time you said those very words to me."

"Sherlock, look at me right now!" I turn at her words, see the tears running down her face. "Please, stop this." I slowly stand from my place on the sofa. I walk to where she stands just steps away. Reaching out my hand I caress her cheek, wiping the all too real tears away.

"You're really here. Oh Molly please forgive me," I sob the words. Me, Sherlock Holmes, sobbing. I find myself dropping to my knees.

"Sherlock," her voice is soft and I relish the sound of my name on her lips. She slips down to her knees, her hand reaching out for me. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." I look up to her face to see my own pain reflected in her eyes.

I reach out pulling her into my arms, and just hold her there, still needing to know that she's real. The feel of her slight body touching my own somehow bringing me back to life. She pulls away slightly only to rest her forehead against mine.

I don't know if it's minutes or hours later that Mrs. Hudson finds us there later still sitting on the floor in our embrace. I hear her gasp, but don't want to break the contact I finally have with this woman who has somehow become my entire world. Suddenly I hear her run back down the stairs, no doubt to phone John.

Sitting there with Sherlock my heart keeps breaking and mending itself. I'm pained by how thin he looks, his face so drawn. I ache knowing that it's my absence that has reduced this brilliant man to this shell. Knowing that he thought me some sort of mirage when I walked through the door was the breaking point, and I knew that I wouldn't be able to leave again, that I would move heaven and earth to make him whole again. He needed me to save him just like John told me I did.

Somehow I came to understand, really understand what it was for Sherlock to love. I understood why he tried to keep all those emotions at bay, because he knew they would consume him if he ever really let himself feel. And even though before me now was not the man I fell in love with all those years ago I knew that he was in there somewhere just waiting for me to find him.

Soon I heard two sets of footsteps racing up the stair and knew that this moment was soon going to come to an end because I knew John and Mary weren't going to let things go as easily as Mrs. Hudson had. They would be looking for answers that I'm not sure either of us had yet. While I had decided to stay I knew that things were going to have to be different, for all of us.

John and Mary just stood there taking in the scene before them for a moment before John decided to clear his throat trying to get our attention. Not wanting to be rude for a second time I finally and reluctantly pulled away from Sherlock. Turning towards my friends I was surprised to see tears welling in Mary's eyes. Once I stood I was engulfed in another embrace, this time from John.

"Thank you Molly," he whispered in my ear before pulling away.

Mary stepped forward with a little more hesitation before hugging me as well. I think she was of the same mind as Sherlock and couldn't quite believe that I had really come back.

The room was filled with silence, no one quite knowing what to say or how to proceed in this precarious situation. I finally decided that we need to break the tension.

"Maybe we should see about getting something to eat," my voice sounded small, but strong.

"Yes, I think that's a good idea," John replied with a smile.

Sherlock had sat back down on the sofa hands steepled under his chin. I would have said he had retreated to his mind palace as John had told me he spent most of the time now, but he never took his eyes from me. I knew that both John and Mary noticed this as well.

Conversation was kept light, no one broaching the subject at hand. Sherlock didn't join in on the conversation, but he did manage to eat some of the food that John had picked up.

Soon silence took over the room again. Mary checked her watch before nudging John.

"We should probably get going. I told the babysitter that we would probably only be gone a couple of hours," Mary told them before getting up.

Both John and Mary hugged Molly again before leaving. "I'm glad you're here, he really needs you," Mary said before her and John walked out the door. I was sure they'd be back again tomorrow to check on the situation. I turned to Sherlock after closing the door behind Mary and John.

"Where do we go from here?" I asked.

She was looking at me with such uncertainty, but I didn't have the answers any more than she did. I know that her coming here was a miracle that I in no way deserved, but was thankful for. I planned to never take Molly for granted ever again. I don't think I could ever recover if I lost her again.

"I don't know Molly. I just know that I should have told you I loved you so long ago. That I never should have pushed you away in an effort to protect myself because these last few months knowing that I had possibly lost you forever were excruciating. If I had just told you sooner things could have been so different," I said never taking my eyes from her.

I hadn't been able to take my eyes off of her since realizing I wasn't hallucinating. She looked the same and yet different at the same time. She had gotten tan in her time away from London, and her hair was shorter and no longer up in its customary ponytail. If anything she looked more beautiful than I remembered.

"Well I should probably go about finding a place to stay for the time being," she said looking at the floor.

"Stay," I pleaded as I grabbed her hand. "I don't want to wake up from this dream."

"I'm not a dream Sherlock. I don't know if staying here is a good idea. I'm still not sure where this is going."

"Please, I can't let you go right now," I know how desperate my voice sounds and for once I don't care about the emotions I've always tried to keep bottled up.

"Okay," she replied after a pause. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath until it registered in my brain that she'd agreed to stay. I knew that this would be my only chance to show her that she is all that I'll ever need, that she is my heart. Nothing else in this world will ever matter the way she does.

Now that she's here I know that there is no living without her.