Chapter Seven
I tried hard not to cry, I would have thought that I couldn't cry anymore. Feeling humiliated and hurt all over again, knowing now what Jim had turned me into. I don't want to be the puzzle that needs solving. I can already see the conflicting emotions in Sherlock, and now I know it will be twice as hard. It's one thing to have me here to keep me safe, but now I'm going to be a stark reminder of Jim Moriarty. I'm afraid that every time he looks at me now all he'll see is what Jim has made me, and any progress that we've made in our strange relationship will be lost. He's going to start pushing me away again, and I can't blame him.
Despite the comfort of being wrapped in Sherlock's sheets real fear is starting to settle in. There is so much we don't know about what Moriarty has in store for any of us, and I am the one clue. Not just because of the two small tattoos marring my side, but also because as of right now I am the only piece that seems to be in play in this outrageous game. I'm not sure if even the great Sherlock Holmes is up for the challenge Moriarty is offering this time, and that's what scares me the most.
"Molly, can you stop crying please?" Sherlock startled me a bit since I hadn't heard him enter.
"Doesn't seem to matter even though I want to stop, the tears just keep coming," I confessed.
"Mrs. Hudson made you some tea," he began as he handed me the delicate cup. The warmth helping to take away the numbness that had taken over my body. "I'm sorry I couldn't keep you safe from him."
"I don't blame you Sherlock, not at all," I insisted. I want him to understand that this is in no way his fault. "If it hadn't been me it would have been someone else. This isn't exactly a new tactic on his part."
"I know that, but I put you in more danger when I asked for your help," he replied. "And somehow Moriarty knows things he shouldn't," he uttered turning away from me.
"Tell me the truth Sherlock, are we going to make it through this?" I asked.
"I don't know, and you know how I feel about that. I'm not exactly sure which direction he's trying to push me this time. Last go around Moriarty and I were of a similar mind, but things have changed for me," he watched me intently while speaking. "It never bothered me that we were the same him and I, and yet somehow now knowing everything that could truly be lost I don't want those similarities."
"You might believe that, but you're not like him. I've known you for a long while now and I know that while you're capable of being like Jim you choose not to be, and that's what really matters." I find myself setting aside the tea and taking his hand. "Will you tell me what the tattoo means?"
"It's just a reminder of his promise to me. That he would burn my heart out," he sounds sad and far away.
"But why me? I'm not anyone special."
"Do you really believe that?" He questioned his eyes wide with shock.
"I mean I know that we're friends, but how can he think that I'm more important than…than anyone really."
"Molly, you are more than my friend."
"What does that mean exactly?" I don't want to give myself false hope, but Moriarty's last words to me (or at least what I think I heard) are echoing in my head and heart.
Sherlock can't seem to find the words he's looking for because the silence in the room slowly becomes deafening. He has a look I've never seen on his face before, possibly something akin to nervousness. I squeeze his hand in what I hope is comfort before I proceed.
"He said something to me before I blacked out, before he did all of this," I explained motioning to my body. "I thought it was just part of a dream, but maybe he really did say it." Sherlock had worry in his eyes, as if I was about to confirm his worst fear. "As I was fading I thought I heard him tell me that you're…you're in love with me."
"Molly, I…" I could see the pain in his eyes that he wanted to deny all of it. He wanted to hide behind the notion that he didn't have a heart and thus couldn't love.
I turn away not wanting him to see the heartbreak I know is clearly written on my face. He loves me, but is going to deny any possibility and that hurts more than thinking he would never love me. I let my hand fall away from his planning to hide myself back in the comfort of the blankets where I'll be free to grieve for the love I'll never get the chance to possess.
"He's not wrong, I do love you," he confessed. I turn back to face him finding his eyes glistening with the beginnings of tears. "You Molly are the only person who really sees me, and somewhere along the way you crept your way into my heart. I didn't notice until that night when you told me I looked sad. I don't think I wanted to see what was right there in front of me, and I'm sorry for that. But if Moriarty knows…" I'd never seen Sherlock like this before, not even on that fateful night two years ago, the melancholy that was etched across the sharp features of his too handsome face.
"I believe in you Sherlock Holmes," I whispered before placing a kiss on his cheek.
"I don't understand why you would. All I ever seem to do is hurt you. What is it that you see when you look at me and why is it only you who sees it?" His question is out of character for him, but then so was admitting he loves me.
"I…I don't know what exactly you want me to tell you. I know you think I've got you up on some pedestal where I cannot see your faults, but I do see them. I have seen the amazing things that you have the ability to accomplish with that remarkable mind of yours and despite your brash personality it's your brilliance the way you see the world that has always captivated me. We've known each other for a while now and slowly I started to see small glimpses of you, the bits that you like to hide from the world. It's those moments when I really seem to fall in love with you. I must sound so silly to you."
"No, not silly. Despite the many times I'm sure I've made you feel that way, you've never been silly." I don't know why but I start rubbing the hem of his shirt again. "You're starting to wear a hole there from doing that Molly."
"I guess I am. It's a bit of a nervous habit I've taken to," I agreed looking down. I'm surprised when he decides to sit down next to me, taking my hand into his own.
"I was right when I said you look great wearing my shirt, better than I remember even, but it would be a tragedy if you wore a hole into it like that," he commented with a hint of a smile.
"You could always lend me another," I suggested, mostly as a joke, but the look in his eyes told me he wouldn't mind handing over as many of his shirts as I could possibly want.
What am I doing here? Am I actually sitting here covered in cuts and bruises flirting with Sherlock Holmes? And is he really flirting back? I'm pretty sure my doctors didn't give me anything that would make me hallucinate, but I guess it's a possibility. Other than the cuts and bruises (not to mention criminal mastermind lurking somewhere) this is like a dream come true for me. I mean how often does one find themselves in a position where the man they've been in love with for years is suddenly confessing his feelings and exchanging flirty banter?
"Molly," he murmured just when I was beginning to wonder if I had said the wrong thing.
I don't know where the courage comes from, but I can't seem to help myself from pressing my lips firmly against his. Before I even have a chance to process what I've done his hands are cupping my face as he deepens our kiss. Now I know I must be dreaming because only in my wildest fantasies would Sherlock be kissing me with such passion. He pulls away all too soon for my liking, but keeps his gentle hold on my face. His eyes looking at me with such desire I wanted to kiss him again. Of course it was in that very moment I remember that I had been engaged just earlier this morning.
He must notice a change in me because he takes his hands from my face to run them down my arms stopping at my hands.
"Maybe you should get some rest."
"Quite a bit has happened in the past couple days hasn't it?"
"I have a feeling that it's not going to get any easier in the near future. Moriarty is not likely to give us much breathing room. I'm sure by now he's realized I've seen the tattoo which means he'll be quick to up the game."
"I don't want to be his pawn Sherlock."
"And you never will be, I promise."
"Thank you," I said leaning my head against his shoulder.
We sat for an indeterminable amount of moments leaning into each other. At some point he had started playing with my hair, gently stroking his fingers through the soft strands. I don't know what happened to change Sherlock into the man sitting with me right now, but I may love this version of him more than ever before.
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know I am waking up in the dark. I don't recognize where I am and I want to scream out in fear. Too much had happened to me in the past two days not to be afraid of my own shadow. The only thing keeping me from screaming is the feeling of being enveloped in warmth.
"Go back to sleep Molly," Sherlock groaned pulling my body close to his.
"What are you doing here?" I questioned as I put a bit of distance between the two of us.
"Well, I was sleeping until you woke me up," he admitted his voice hoarse from sleep.
"I guess I just figured that you'd be up figuring out what to do about Moriarty. And I guess I thought that you wouldn't be sharing a bed with me," I fretted
"You act like we haven't shared a bed before Molly."
"I know, it's just everything is so confusing right now. And I'm not saying it confusing just for me, I know it's confusing for you too even if you don't want to admit it."
"Obviously, but I'm not going to let that get in the way of my sleep. This is my bed you know," he explained reaching his hand over to my arm, his thumb rubbing circles.
"You're right. It's just so much has happened in the last few days I'm not sure I know which way is up any longer."
"Just come over here and try to get a little more rest," he demanded.
"Thank you for everything Sherlock," I whispered before scooting over and brushing a kiss across his lips.
"You're going to have to stop kissing me if we're going to get any more sleep," he advised before kissing me back.
