Give His Heart a Break.
Authors Note: Thank-you for all your lovely reviews! I'm so glad you all love it. Please, have some faith in me. I really do know what I'm doing. The information I wrote is not wrong. It's Sherlock and Molly and it most definitely is romance. It is dramatic but at the time I wasn't sure if it would be more drama or more angst. I'll probably be changing that bit because it's obviously angst. But, in the next lot of chapters you are going to see I'm not wrong. So, don't lose faith!
Also, I thought I would inform you that my story is now going to finish on chapter eighteen. I've got some new ideas and I've just finished planning them out. So, I hope you all enjoy!
Disclaimer: I wished I owned because then Sherolly would already be happening!
Chapter Fourteen: More Than That.
Sherlock was hiding.
Sherlock never hid.
It was beneath him to do such a thing.
But right now, he made the exception.
He simply couldn't face John, who was bustling about in the kitchen outside his bedroom.
That was where Sherlock inhabited of current.
He had been for the past week, since John and Molly had told him of their engagement.
He cursed the word.
He cursed them two.
It was absolutely preposterous.
But, they seemed hell bent on the choice.
Sherlock didn't know if he could accept it.
He wasn't quite sure why he didn't know.
He didn't usually care.
If two people wanted to make some mistake and not listen to his advice, then he'd let them.
He'd watch them crash.
He'd watch them burn.
And he'd enjoy it.
But this, this was different.
Perhaps it was because he cared for these said two.
Or perhaps it was a different reason entirely.
A reason he was frightened to deduce.
John had tried to come in to his room once this week.
He had claimed to be worried.
Sherlock had shooed him away and demanded privacy.
He had told John that Lestrade had given him an important case he just couldn't figure out.
He knew John didn't quite believe him.
Usually, he would have left the house by now.
He wouldn't have been curled up in his bed, looking like he hadn't changed his clothes since the announcement.
But John, he didn't push him.
He had nodded and left.
Every day since then, he had opened the door and placed on Sherlock's floor two slices of toast and a fresh glass of water.
Every day, the water was gone.
Every other day, the toast was gone.
John didn't mind.
Sherlock did it to keep his friend at peace.
He didn't want him to do something ridiculous like stage an intervention.
Sherlock's mind slipped away from what had been happening, since he had imprisoned himself to his bed, and back to the reason why he was even there in the first place.
He still hadn't managed to figure out whether or not Molly was still in love with him.
Her reaction had said one thing.
Her words had said another.
Her reaction to what he had said about John and her told him that she was very much still in love with him.
She didn't want to hear what he had to say.
Perhaps she was in denial?
Why would she be in denial?
She'd been in love with him for years.
Why did she want the sudden change now?
He thought back to her speech.
Her tone had been so strong.
Her face had spoken otherwise.
But her tone.
He couldn't get it from his head.
She had been beautiful even when she was saying words that brought out that blasted emotion in him.
Her words had hurt him.
He wasn't sure why they had hurt him.
After all, he only cared for her; he didn't care about how she felt for him.
There was one thing that was really eating away at him from her speech.
How had she phrased it?
Something like: logic isn't always the answer.
He didn't understand that.
Of course logic was always the answer.
Everything people did could be based on a logical explanation.
Except Molly's speech.
He could see of no logical reason for it.
Her face had spoken one thing, her words another.
There was nothing logical about it.
He groaned in frustration.
He had tried so hard to keep his mind from going back to the same thought every day.
It confused him.
All he ever did was repeat himself.
He hated repeating himself.
It was the kind of thing that normal people did.
He was above being a normal person.
Inferior to it, in fact.
Yet here he lay, in his bed, doing what a normal person would do in this situation.
It angered him.
Molly angered him.
John angered him.
It was their entire fault!
If they hadn't decided to get engaged, then he wouldn't have gone off on one, and Molly wouldn't have even spoken her goddamn speech!
He sighed and, in a frustrated manner, ran his hands over his face.
He forced himself away from trying to figure out what that stupid phrase had meant and thought about something else.
Why did he even care so much?
It couldn't be because he cared about them.
It just couldn't be.
He wouldn't be bedbound if it were.
He'd be out in the world doing everything he possibly could to stop it.
But yet, here he was.
Metaphorically, tied to his bed.
He felt as if he couldn't move.
He felt weighted down.
That was ridiculous.
How could be weighted down?
For one, he hadn't eaten anything that could have kept him down.
Two, even if had it wouldn't have kept him down for the entire week.
So, why was he just lying in his bed?
What was causing him to be so immobile?
When had the weighted feeling first took place?
He thought back.
His eyes widened when he caught the information.
It was in the moment Molly had blurted out that she and John were engaged.
But, it hadn't made him immobile.
So, when did it?
He thought back further, trying to locate the one piece of information that could help him.
He sat up in his bed, frowning.
When Molly had left the flat that day, he had somewhat fell in to his chair.
It was then.
That was when it had all begun.
Why had it begun then?
What had been so important about that moment?
He closed his eyes.
He was trying to focus.
What had happened before he had fallen?
His eyebrows knotted ever so slightly.
They had said goodbye.
Something had been different.
What had been different?
…
The goodbye had almost sounded final.
Final?
Final what?
Molly's final goodbye to her love for him?
It couldn't be.
Was that what it had all meant?
His eyebrows knotted together, tighter; it was noticeable, and if John had walked in the room right then, he would have paused to watch his friend.
The look on Molly's face during her speech.
The ever present sheen of tears in her eyes.
No.
It couldn't be.
It just couldn't be.
Why would she do that?
How had he not noticed it when she had spoken?
He felt so normal right now.
It was awful.
He didn't like feeling normal.
Why was she doing this?
Why did he even care that she was doing this?
How could she be marrying John when she was still in love with him?
She was still in love with him, he knew that now.
She was just trying to bury her feelings and move on.
She was being a moron.
You just can't bury feelings.
…
He paused.
His entire body stilled.
You can't bury feelings?
His eyes slipped open, his mouth taking on the form of an 'o.'
Oh dear.
Wasn't that what he had been trying to do all this time?
He had admitted his feelings.
He was ignoring his feelings.
But was he?
Was this why he was bedridden?
He gulped.
It was.
Surely it wasn't because he merely liked Molly?
He was no genius in this department but surely you didn't become bedridden for people you merely liked?
That meant it was… more.
He wasn't capable of love.
He knew that.
So what was this?
He didn't know.
He just knew that it was more than like.
He couldn't bury it no longer.
It was impossible.
He had to do something.
But what could he do?
They were hell bent on marriage.
John was his best friend.
He'd hurt him enough in the past year.
How could he make this right without causing damage?
He couldn't.
He frowned as that thought crossed his mind path.
He knew it was true but he didn't want to think of that right now.
He just had to do something.
He needed to form a plan.
It needed to be subtle.
He stepped in to the bathroom in his bedroom and turned on the shower head.
He'd be steering clear of his bed for the on coming days.
He had a lot of work to do.
He was determined to set everything right.
It was his fault they were in this mess.
If he hadn't have buried these pesky things.
If he had only let Molly know.
Then perhaps things would be different right now.
He wouldn't be with Molly.
He didn't have time for that.
But maybe she wouldn't have resorted to marrying John to rid herself of her love for him.
Half an hour later, he crossed the threshold of the kitchen from his bedroom.
He was freshly showered; smooth faced; adorned in a clean cut suit, and held a new perspective on what he was going to do to rectify his mistake.
John looked up from the paper he was reading in the living room.
A smile settling on his face.
"Your back."
Sherlock nodded.
"I have things I need to attend to, John."
John nodded his head.
"Before you run off to do whatever you must, can I ask you a question, Sherlock?"
Sherlock paused and turned to look at John.
He waited patiently as his flatmate put down his paper, and looked back to him.
"I know you haven't accepted mine and Molly's choice. But, I still want you there and I still want you as my best man. You're the only one I could ever think of asking and so Sherlock, please, would you be my best man at my wedding?"
Sherlock watched John carefully before replying with a well formed line.
"I've accepted it John. I would be honoured to be your best man."
Sherlock smiled.
John felt taken back but he smiled, too.
"Thank-you."
Sherlock nodded and returned to grabbing his coat and scarf before leaving the flat.
He may have accepted their decision but it didn't mean he approved of it.
It also didn't mean he wasn't going to do everything he possibly could to prevent it.
Authors Note: How did you like chapter fourteen? Was Sherlock OK? I hope you think so. Can anyone guess what Sherlock's planning on doing? After writing this chapter, I feel as if I could add in an extra and give in you nineteen chapters! I just might yet. It'll let you see Sherlock in action with Molly a bit clearer. :)
I forgot to mention this at the beginning. I asked if anyone had understood the meaning of my title yet. You're all getting the idea but it's got a double meaning. It's also inspired by a song. If you check the song out, you'll also see that Molly's speech in the previous chapter was too. The song is 'Give Your Heart a Break' by Demi Lovato. I'm highly influenced by Demi – she's a huge inspiration to me.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed and please review!
Petal.