4 Page Letter
After several chapters, five year writing hiatus and plenty of comments, we are finally reaching the romantic phase of the story. This could go several ways...Muse, do your thing! Title inspiration from 4 Page Letter Aaliyah. "I'll prove it to you" inspired by Danny Castellano in The Mindy Project Season 2 finale.
Two Days Ago
As Molly drew further and further away and the sound of the heavy door closing behind her was nothing more than the faint mental traces of an echo, Sherlock sat. His face, unmoving, spread falsehoods about his inner turmoil. Sherlock Holmes was not okay. Like John, he had always treated Molly a certain way. That was how he showed he cared. Mean most days, compliments when it counted. Sherlock huffed out a dry, humourless chuckle. He really was a high-functioning sociopath.
Perhaps a little too high functioning. The anguish and desperation in his chest was not from being confused about the case; Molly had put paid to that in the most spectacular way imaginable. No, he wanted to make it right. But how?
That night, the shadows crept over the table long before Sherlock left the hall.
One Day Ago
John didn't know what to do with the Sherlock that was currently residing at 221B Baker Street. This Sherlock didn't make barbs or experiment on skulls or even shoot holes in the wall (he never thought he'd miss that). Instead, the Sherlock he was now faced with was moping from room to room, occasionally muttering about promises and true feelings before running into his room to do...well, John wasn't sure exactly what, but it was clearly important.
Everyone had asked Sherlock how the dinner at Goldsmiths Hall went, but he had merely said informative in the most uninterested manner possible and refused to discuss the subject any further. John had learnt enough to know that Sherlock was processing whatever had been said between himself and Molly, but he wished he could help. The doctor in him didn't know how to stand on the sidelines during an injury, and it didn't sit right with him. What else could he do?
Present
Dear Molly,
I have sat here writing this letter for two days, constantly editing and re-writing my words to do justice to the alien feelings I have been quietly ignoring for so many years. I want to make sure I get this right the first time, but I don't want to spend so long second-guessing that I lose any chance I may have of making amends. No, making amends is not enough. I want to make progress.
You matter, you've always mattered. I thought I had been clear in my expressions, but I see now how wrong I was. How foolish I was. How blind. You are a constant force in my life, not because you are predictable or dependable, but because you are wise, kind and brave. You're not afraid to tell me when I am wrong, slap me when I'm high, or help me pull off the most daring sleight of hand I have ever attempted. I have always cared about you, in my way, but now that I know it's not enough, I want to care about you, in your way. I probably wouldn't survive without you in my life, and now I know that is a very real danger, I have to do all I can to keep you with me. That is, if you wish it. I know better now than to presume I know what you are thinking or feeling. Will you find it within you to give me a chance?
A woman as smart and forward thinking as you have yet again shown yourself to be is deserving of having the very best man by your side. I want to be that man. I will be that man. I'll prove it to you.
Yours all this time,
Sherlock.