Sherlock blinked twice but did not turn his head to face Molly. Her hand had stilled on his back, her fingertips grazing his muscle. He could practically hear the sound of her heart beating. Anticipation.

A million thoughts ran through his head at once, all the doors to all the rooms of the mind palace had been thrown open and information was flooding him. Everything he knew about Molly, life, love and marriage was bombarding him.

Molly had proposed. Marriage.

Molly wanted to marry him.

"Sherlock?" Molly questioned in a soft, fearful voice, as though speaking at any more then a whisper would be too much for her. She felt ridiculous. Molly hadn't actually been sure if what would happen when she had asked. Part if her had hoped he would agree straight away or that the question would at least open up a dialogue so that they could talk about it. But this reaction, Sherlock catatonic, had not been what she had hoped for.

"I'll take that as a no then?" She mumbled, trying to lighten the mood. As soon as she said it, regret crippled her. Sherlock's voice floated to the forefront of her memory, of that Christmas when he had told her not to make jokes. It was true, she was not very good at them.

Sherlock hadn't moved, and that was driving her to utter distraction. She hated herself for asking the question to begin with. What was she thinking? Maybe she hadn't been? Asking him to marry. What part of her honestly thought that that was a stood idea.

Molly felt like crying. Tears actually did well in her eyes. Silence was as bad as a no. She knew that Sherlock was an over thinker, and probably needed time with the proposition, but each passing second was like another little stab. He was going to say no, she was sure if it.

"Sherlock" she began again, but she was unsure as to what she intended on saying. Should she take it back? Pretend it was all just a joke? Tell him that she didn't really mean it?

But she did mean it, so this was one statement she didn't intend in revoking.

He was still just laying there, and soon her sadness turned to anger. She had her heart in the line, yet again, and he was ignoring it. He was just laying there like a lump. Eyes closed as though he needed soothing, as though the very idea if marrying her was bringing him pain. She retracted her hand from his back as though it was on fire.

She fought temptation to say his name again. Instead, she pulled her legs to her chest and rested her head in them. They sat like that for what felt like hours, but was really only minutes.

Sherlock only moved when his phone on the bedside table rang. Molly glared at him as he reached out to answer it. At least she knew where his priorities were.

Sherlock sat up and retrieved his clothing from the floor, keeping his back to Molly. Molly buried her head in her knees again so that she didn't have to watch him.

"Don't go Sherlock" Molly said suddenly, surprising even herself. Sherlock paused, his hands in his shoe laces. She thought for a second that she had gotten through to him. "I think we should talk about this"

Sherlock continued tying his shoe and then moved to the next one. Molly shook her head.

"There's been another murder" Sherlock said. It was the first thing he had said in almost half an hour, and while it was not an alien statement from his mouth, it shocked Molly to no end.

"Another..." Molly muttered, then shook her head. "Sherlock, I don't care. I want to talk about this!"

Sherlock stood, ignoring her plea, and moved towards the bedroom door.

"Sherlock?" Molly tried one last time, but then he was gone.

Molly stared at the bedroom door for a good ten minutes before the first tears ran down her cheeks. She didn't understand. She would obviously never understand. She had thought herself accustomed to the peculiar behaviours of Sherlock, but the last hour of her life had been an all time low.

Part of her wished he had just said no. Or his favourite 'don't be ridiculous!'

Molly stood, still crying, and put on her pyjamas, balling up her sexy underwear and throwing it into the hamper in distain. She then crawled into bed and buried her head in the pillows, letting them swallow her sobs.

0o0

Sherlock stared at the crime scene before him. It was much the same as all the others, except this one was wrong. "What's her colour?"

Lestrade looked from the body before him to the consulting detective beside him and shrugged. "We haven't found it yet"

"Rubbish" Sherlock snapped, walking around the crime scene yet again. This one had been found in her bedroom, much like a few of the other victims. "It's not one of ours"

"What?" Lestrade said, rubbing the back of his neck. "No a victim of the slasher? A copycat? Are you sure?"

Sherlock dismissed all of the questions, instead looking through all the items in the room one by one, searching for anyway they were linked other then the wounds. The body that lay on the bed was positioned awkwardly, and while the wounds were consistent with the other murders, there were no other obvious connections.

Sherlock then paused. He turned to the body again. "How old did you say she was?"

"16. poor thing" Lestrade responded, glancing at the body before him. His daughters were so close in age to her that this scene was hard to look at.

"It's the first time that the victim had been this young" Sherlock mumbled. "Definitely not our killer. Where's her phone?"

Greg moved to the evidence bag on the desk beside him and threw Sherlock the iPhone. Sherlock caught it and pressed the home button, lighting up the home screen. The lock screen stared him down and Sherlock sighed.

"What's her birthday?"

Greg looked at the file he had in his hand "April 7th"

Sherlock typed 0704 and almost laughed as the phone unlocked. Teenagers were so predictable.

He browsed the messages before throwing it back to Greg. "The boyfriend. He did it"

"What makes you so sure?" Greg asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Their message history is very juicy. Discussions of sexual activity that she is not ready for. He's pressuring her to be ready. She snuck out on the weekend and is now grounded. He seemed angry in his most recent text, suggesting that he is just going to come over and climb through the window anyway. That window."

"You're saying this kid is the slasher?" Greg asked, shocked.

"Stop impersonating Anderson and listen please." Sherlock snapped. "A copy cat. Something happened, and now that girl is dead. Someone, the boyfriend I say, tried to cover it up by making it look like the slasher!"

Greg nodded carefully, instinctually he would trust Sherlock to the ends of the earth, but with all that had been going on in the last few days, he wasn't sure he could. It was his career on the line if Sherlock was wrong.

"I'll get the boy in" Greg said. "Will you be present at the interview?"

Sherlock ran a hand through his hair anxiously. "Nah, better get back. I left a bit of a mess at home"

0o0

He didn't go straight home however. Walking aimlessly lead him to Baker Street, his old home, and the current home of Dr and Mrs Watson. Any other day he would continue to walk, but from his spot on the street he could see his friend in the window, still awake, nursing his daughter.

Sherlock entered and moved quickly up the stairs. The noise of Angelina's cries met him just outside the door.

"Shh" John soothed, trying to hush the baby in his arms "shh, you'll wake mummy"

"Want me to take her?" Sherlock asked. John jumped at the voice behind him, clutching Angelina to his chest.

"How did you get in?"

"Emergency key, John" Sherlock sighed, wishing his friend had not asked such a silly question. John, still recovering from his fright, held out Angelina when Sherlock insisted. It had been a long night and no matter what he tried, he couldn't get the girl to settle, maybe Sherlock could.

Almost instantly Angelina stopped crying. John muttered a few curse words before adding "Cuppa?"

"Please" Sherlock confirmed, sitting on the edge of the sofa and adjusting Angelina so that she could lean against his chest. He had missed this part of Henry's childhood, having been searching for Moriarty and his henchmen at the time, and while holding the baby in his arms was unusual, he couldn't say he did not enjoy it.

"If someone had of told me seven years ago that you would be the better dad out of the two of us, I would of laughed" John laughed, bringing his coffee over and putting it in front if him in the table. John then sat down.

"Wouldn't say that" Sherlock sighed. "At least your the better husband of the two of us."

John looked to his friend. "What happened? You and Molly fighting? Henry told me the other day that you had been yelling at one a other"

"No, we made up" Sherlock shook his head, leaning back and trying to get comfortable with a two day old on his chest. "John, she asked me to marry her"

John broke into a smile. "Congratulations! That's great mate!"

"Is it?"

"Sherlock?" John asked in a questioning tone, getting the feeling he would not like where the rest of this was heading. "Sherlock, what did you say to her?"

"Nothing" Sherlock admitted, a slight tone of shame in his voice.

"Nothing?" John repeated. "As in you didn't respond."

Sherlock nodded in affirmation. John was glad he didn't have Angelina in his hands, as he brought them both to his face, pressing his palms against his eyes.

"Why the hell not Sherlock?" He ground out a second later.

Sherlock remained silent and busied himself with adjusting Angelina on his chest so that she was laying more comfortably for him. Sometime in the last few minutes she had dropped off to sleep. "It wasn't her place to ask" he whispered finally.

John did a double take. "Wasn't her place..."

"The man is suppose to ask. I was suppose to ask, ok! Me, not her" Sherlock justified.

"But would you have?" John asked, unable to help himself. John knew that Sherlock had plans to one day ask Molly to marry him, they had spoken about it at his own wedding three years prior, but there was nothing that suggested Sherlock had considered it since then.

"Eventually" he admitted.

"Eventually! Sherlock!" John sighed. His friend sure was clueless sometimes.

"Why rush!" Sherlock exclaimed, then lowered his voice when the baby stirred. "She knows I love her, that there will never be anyone else in my world but her, so why does she need to be married to me. It's a gesture"

John shook his head. "She doesn't need to be married to you" he began, and held his hand out to stop the inevitable protest. "She wants to be married to you! There is a difference"

Sherlock didn't get it. Clearly sentiment that he had never had to deal with before.

"Molly Hooper loves you, god knows why" John smiled to himself. "You have been together for six years, give or take, and you have been through so much. She wants to give you her world, to experience all she can with you, and this is part of that Sherlock"

Sherlock shook his head. He still didn't get it.

"Every woman dreams of their wedding Sherlock. And Molly has always been the woman to take things into her own hands"

That was true. Molly was fiercely independent and would stop at nothing to get exactly what she wanted in her life.

"So I should marry her?"

"Do you want to marry her?" John asked plainly.

Sherlock paused, a slight frown on his lips. Did he want to marry Molly? Ultimately the answer was yes. It was just something he hadn't thought about.

"Don't just say yes for the sake of saying yes" John added. "Or because you feel obligated. It would kill Molly to know you only agreed to it for her sake and not for your own."

Sherlock looked down at Angelina as though the baby in his arms would tell him the answer. He loved Molly, there was no doubt about that, but the whole institution of marriage seemed so alien to him. Ritualistic and sentimental and boring.

Was there really anything wrong with what they had? He was happy and Molly was happy and they were together and they were raising their son. They didn't need a piece of paper, or rings on their fingers to show the world that they were a family.

Did it really mean that much to her? The idea of a one day celebration to go back to doing what it was that they were doing anyway. One expensive day where they told each other they loved each other, in public.

Marriage seemed like such a grown up thing to do, and although his identification disagreed, Sherlock didn't see himself as a grown up. Molly was a grown up, he was just Sherlock.

Maybe that was it. He was just Sherlock. Sherlock who didn't understand anything about love and relationships. And if there was anything his developmental years had taught him, he would stuff things up in the relationship eventually. He stuffed up every relationship he had.

"It's ok to be scared" John said softly, taking a risk that he had said the wrong thing.

"I am not scared" Sherlock replied, but his tone sounded petrified.

"You love her, yeah?"

"Definitely" Sherlock replied. "With my everything. I came back from the dead for her"

John stood and moved to his friend, carefully taking Angelina for where she was on Sherlock's chest. "Go talk to her."

Sherlock nodded, still unsure what he would say to Molly when he got home, but feeling increasingly guilty for leaving her the way he had. He turned to say thank you to John, for the advice, for listening, for being a great friend but John just dismissed him.

Sherlock caught a cab home and bolted through the front door, climbing the steps two at a time. He barged in through the door and straight down to his bedroom, intent on shaking Molly awake to apologise. He was still unsure whether or not he would accept her proposal, however.

Surprisingly the bed was empty. He paused, about to go check the living room, when a folded note on his pillow caught his attention.

Sherlock - I am not going to lie and say that your behaviour this evening did not hurt me. I felt at the very least I was deserving of a response. I don't know why the question startled you so. I think what we both need is time. I have taken Henry and we've gone away for a few days. You are brilliant enough to work out where we are, but please just wait for me to contact you. Love Molly.

Sherlock sat on the bed and crumpled the not in his hand. Boy, he'd really blown it this time.