Ten
The entire return journey from Clovernook to Baker Street, the consulting detective did not say one word. The expression on his face remained permanent throughout: that of a lost little boy just facing the possibility that he may never be found again.
John was very worried now; he would have preferred a Sherlock who ranted and raved in anger, for John knew how to deal with that. True, John had dealt with a Sherlock who stayed silent for long periods of time, but that would be because he was in his mind palace or he had just finished a case. However, there was a big difference between a silent Sherlock and a silent Sherlock who'd just had his heart broken.
John knew that this was very bad, not only when Sherlock didn't immediately take off the deerstalker once inside the train compartment, but when Mycroft called the doctor, ordering him not to leave Sherlock alone, and Sherlock made no reaction to it at all. Yes, when Sherlock does not react to his older brother's concern, something is very wrong…
This convinced John, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Sherlock Holmes was very much in love with Molly Hooper.
When the two men arrived back in Baker Street, Sherlock began walking towards his room like a sleepwalker or zombie, but John grabbed him fast by the collar. "Oh, no, you don't," he said.
Thankfully, this pulled a proper reaction from the consulting detective. "John, what the –"
"You are not sinking back into that depression again, Sherlock Holmes. You are going to sit there –" John practically tossed him onto the sofa, "– I am going to sit here –" John sat down in his armchair, turning it to fully face Sherlock, "and I am going to tell you to do what you do best."
"Which is?" Sherlock asked with some of his old annoyance after being man-handled as he tossed the deerstalker away like a frisbee, which relieved John.
"To think logically." Sherlock's eyes flared and his mouth opened in indignation but John was too quick for him. "Don't interrupt me, you're going to hear this! When you saw Molly today, you did what you are always telling everybody not to do: you assumed. Rather than gather all of the data before forming a theory, you jumped to a conclusion before you had all of the information."
This little speech caused Sherlock to hang his head, knowing that what John said was right. "It's a valid one…" he mumbled.
"Not in my opinion."
Sherlock's head snapped up again, the expression in his eyes desperate and hopeful. "Explain," he demanded.
"For one, the way they were interacting did not indicate romantic involvement. I've seen my sister walk with my father like that before he died. She's obviously close to this man, but I don't think it's romantically close. If it was, they would be holding hands or they would have an arm around each other rather than linked in an old-fashioned way." John paused, and then stopped himself before speaking again.
"That's not all, John, keep going!" said Sherlock, leaning forward a bit.
John sighed, knowing his next words would hurt. "Fine, Sherlock. The second reason is Molly's current situation. She is back in her hometown, surrounded by safe and familiar things, in order to try and piece back together her self-esteem and to become fully healthy again. If Molly was looking for a new love interest, she would have gone somewhere new, not back to her hometown where everyone knows her." John sighed, knowing that his third reason would be the most difficult for Sherlock to hear. "Thirdly…after what she's been through with you, the last thing she would want right now is a relationship with a man."
Sherlock sat still for a minute, then he got up and walked to the window, as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. He leaned his forehead against the windowpane.
John gave a heavier sigh, got up, and walked to his friend's side. "Sherlock…you've known Molly longer than me. You can tell a person's entire history of vices in one meeting. You really didn't know she battled an eating disorder?"
From the side, he saw Sherlock's face scrunch up, his eyes shutting tightly before he gave an answer in just as tight of a tone. "No…I don't know…If I did know, I must have deleted it at some point as irrelevant, because that didn't stop her from being excellent in her job and helping me…"
John did not respond, but gave Sherlock a hard look, as if weighing his answer word for word. Sherlock turned his head to John, saw the look, and said, "Why don't you believe me?"
"Because what you said to Molly about domestic bliss suiting her was a little too close to an open wound for coincidence in my mind."
"I may be an ignorant fool about women compared to your experience, John, but even I know that commenting on a woman's weight is never a good thing."
"Then why did you say that to her?"
"I don't know!" Sherlock turned back to the window and almost slammed his forehead against the windowpane again.
But John would not let up. He would get Sherlock to admit his feelings, whether he liked it or not, or else he would only sink into a deeper slump than before. "Yes, you do, Sherlock," said John, in a quiet and soothing voice – which was necessary, since Sherlock looked ready to burst. "It's all there, in your head and in your heart. Just find it and say it."
Sherlock took some deep breaths, and his shaking lessened somewhat. "I was…it was…Jim from IT." Sherlock practically spit out the name. "I hated how he talked to her, touched her back, made her believe he was interested in her when all the while…even before he revealed himself…I couldn't…stand him being near her."
"Do you always feel this way about Molly's romantic interests?" asked John patiently.
Sherlock remained silent for a few minutes, and John could see him going through every scenario which involved Molly and another man, from just hearing about him or actually meeting him. Finally, Sherlock spoke: "Yes."
"Why?"
"Because…no one was ever worthy of her…"
"You were jealous." Sherlock opened his mouth to deny it, but when nothing came out, John continued, "You were jealous seeing Molly with another man because you couldn't stand the thought of her being with anybody else."
"Because I love her."
John's eyes widened and he staggered back in surprise. John thought that it would take hours of patient persuading for Sherlock to even come close to saying those words. Sherlock looked at John. "You're surprised?"
"That you admitted it out loud, yes," said John. "I knew you must have feelings for her last week, after seeing how you reacted to her collapsing, but it wasn't until today I realized just how deep those feelings run. How long have you known?"
Sherlock gave a deep sigh, walked to the sofa, and laid down on his back. John walked back to his armchair. Their positions reminded John of the therapist/patient cliché, and boy did it feel like it. But anything Sherlock had to say John was more than willing to listen.
"Do you recall what Moriarty threatened me with if I did not leave him alone?" asked Sherlock after a few minutes of silence.
"Um…that he would burn you, right?"
"More specifically, that he would burn the heart out of me."
John nodded, remembering. "And when you said you've been informed you don't have one, he said –"
"We both know that's not true," murmured Sherlock, almost to himself before speaking up again. "When he said that, Molly's face…it was all I could see for a moment. I feared what he could have done to her, what he might still do to her. The moment we were safe again, all I thought about was going to her, help her if she needed help or just be assured she was alright and that she would break all ties with him."
"And you did," said John. "But answer me something, Sherlock. Molly told me that, when you came to her apartment, you told her that I had forced you to do that. Why did you lie to her?"
"Because when I saw that she was perfectly alright, and learned that she had already broken things off with him, I felt so foolish and stupid for how I behaved. I lashed out at her as a result…I said things I should not have said…"
"Like that's anything new," said John wryly. "And then you spent the next two months either ignoring, denying or attempting to destroy your feelings for her, correct?"
Sherlock nodded, staring at the ceiling. "When you said I blamed Molly for Moriarty, I realized that she may think that, too, and I wanted to clear that up right away and get everything back to the way it was before…and you know what happened next…"
"Mm-hm," said John, nodding. "So…you learned your feelings when you found her unconscious."
Sherlock shook his head. "That is when I knew that whatever I felt for her was something that could not be willed away. Not until I was in my mother's room again was I able to put a name to it…that's why I went back there…I needed an answer I couldn't deny, and I never could hide anything from her…"
John nearly felt overwhelmed. This was the longest he had ever seen Sherlock be so…human. He took a deep breath, and decided to just get right to the heart of the matter, for he didn't know how much longer Sherlock would last like this without closing up again. He leaned his forearms on his thighs, folded his hands together, and looked at his friend, and said, "Well…now you know how you feel, what do you intend to do about it?"
It was a long minute before Sherlock responded. "Perhaps it would be better if I left her alone for good…she deserves better than me…all I've ever done is hurt her…"
"Bullshit."
Sherlock turned his head towards John quickly and, like before, demanded: "Explain."
"First of all, Molly may be a very patient and tolerant person when it comes to you, but she is not a masochist. If all you've ever given her is pain, she wouldn't have lasted three years knowing you. Secondly, neither of you will be able to move on until you at least talk this through with each other, no matter the result. You know now what happens when you try to keep something this powerful bottled up and hidden away. If you don't speak to Molly about this, you'll regret it, really regret it."
John could see in Sherlock's eyes that he was listening to every word. The detective then asked quietly, "But what if her feelings are not the same as mine? What if I have ruined them indefinitely? What if all she felt was mere infatuation that I managed to destroy before it could ever become more?"
The doctor shook his head and gave Sherlock a small, sad smile as he said in a gentle tone: "When I talked to her in the hospital, I learned that her biggest reason for relapsing was because she blamed herself for Moriarty managing to corner you, and because she thought you now hated her. You don't feel that kind of deep despair if you only have an infatuation." He saw the devastation pass over Sherlock's features, and plowed on to the more hopeful part of his speech. "But you can't give up now. If she truly hates you, she wouldn't have asked about you when I spoke to you today. If you truly love her, Sherlock, you'll let her decide for herself whether or not to accept you. And to do that, make sure you both have all the information you can give. You have three weeks to prepare for that before she comes back to London, so I ask you again: what is Sherlock Holmes going to do?"
Sherlock slowly sat up, leaned his elbows on his knees, and steepled his hands under his chin. Satisfied that he was in his mind palace at work on the problem, John smiled and went into the kitchen to fix himself a cup of tea.
It was after dinnertime when Sherlock came out of his mind palace, called John to him, and told him what he planned to do based on a fleeting comment Molly had made to him two years ago.
A/N: Thank you all for being patient with me! I know you all long for what John proposes: Sherlock and Molly seeing each other again and talking it out. We've got a few more chapters yet before that happens, but it will be worth it – the proper set-up must be made! P.S. The more reviews I get, the more motivated I am to write quicker!