The next morning, Molly wakes up slowly, her eyes fluttering with the impact of the sunlight in the room—Sherlock's room. Suddenly everything that transpired the night before comes rushing back into Molly's mind. Especially three little words in particular that had come from a nodding off Sherlock. Her eyes widen and she looks around, also noticing how her arm and leg are draped around Sherlock like some kind of body pillow.

The worst part about it is that he's -awake-! Gasping, she sits up and rubs her face. "Oh God, I'm sorry."

Sherlock looks at her and raises an eyebrow, shrugging his shoulders. "It's fine. You helped me sleep last night, so I'm not fussed."

Molly is blushing profusely and clears her throat. "Right...um...uh, breakfast?"

"Sure. I guess I'll have to get used to making my own now...", he mumbles sadly.

"We can make it together. And whomever I get to run the café, I'll make sure they bring you up breakfast in the morning, how's that?"

"You won't be running it? She left it to you."

"Sherlock, how on Earth can I be a full-time pathologist and a full-time bakery worker? It won't work. But I promise I will choose wisely, and someone who can respect Martha's love for the place."

He nods slowly and sighs, getting up and tossing his maroon dressing gown on, then running his hand through his curls. "Alright, there isn't really a choice."

"Have you thought about who you're going to have as tenants? She did leave the building to you..."

"No, I haven't. It's all too much too soon. I can't think of that right now, okay?"

"Okay", she says softly as they make their way into the kitchen. "I'm sorry, I know it is...", she bites her lip, looking a bit guilty.

"It's fine...I-I know you didn't mean it in a cruel way, Molly."

Molly nods and goes into his small kitchen, looking around,

"Let's see. It looks like John was kind enough to bring some groceries over yesterday morning hm? We've got eggs, some tomatoes, ham, cheese, bread. How about an omelette?"

Sherlock's stomach growls loudly, as he hasn't eaten very much in the past few days. His mouth waters at the thought of one of Molly's fluffy omelettes. Unfortunately, he was still feeling so drained that all he could muster was a nod as he flopped down into his chair, wrapping his dressing gown around him, and curling up.

He can hear Molly's small feet as she shuffles around the kitchen, getting the ingredients together, and then the sizzling of the omelettes in the pan. A sense of calm washes over him that there is someone there. Just having her presence around is soothing. It has been this way for many years, though he's never expressed such things. Maybe he should, she's done so much for him.

"Molly?"

"Yeah, Sherlock?"

"Uh, thanks for staying...I know I'm not usually one to spread around courtesies, but you didn't have to and...well, I'm glad you did."

Molly turns to him, spatula in hand, and smiles cutely. "You're welcome. I know what it's like to lose someone you love so so dearly. I think we all do in one way or another. Greg with his mother, John with Mary, myself with my dad. It feels like your heart is being ripped out and there's nothing you can do to stop it. But I promise you that it'll fade over time, and you have me and all the rest of our friends to help you because it hurts them too. She was a staple for you and for us, and she's going to be missed so much. Unfortunately, death is an experience for everyone involved, and it's sad. I know with our line of work you become a bit numb to it...and we have to be vigilant not to let ourselves fall into that complacency of numbness because then we lose our own humanity. Which leads to a worse life for ourselves."

Sherlock listens intently to her words, knowing them to be true. Listening to her words about losing someone so dearly, he knows to be true. When he believed Molly was going to be ripped away from him by Eurus, he went into overdrive. He absolutely felt as if his own heart was being ripped out on the spot, even just looking at the damn coffin. It was too much to imagine. 'Love'...of course, he had said those words to save her life, but there was a small part of him that had burst from its cage in the darkest depths within him that knew it was also the truth.

He also knows that he had previously disregarded death as something that just happens whether planned or unplanned, and before he used to think it was foolish to be so upset about such a natural occurrence, but now he knows better. Not only secondhand with Mary, but now firsthand with Mrs. H. He really was a machine before, in a way, and he was too stupid to see it."

"I-...I realize that I wasn't the type of person that deserved everything you were willing to give before, Molly. Not lab help, or friendship, or care when I was high. I didn't deserve any of that, but you stayed. And that says way more about you than it ever could about how horrible I was."

Molly blushes and chews her lip. "It's alright, Sherlock. You were in tough spaces back then, and we have since worked through it all. It's like a new chapter for us, hm?"

"I hope so. I'm a bit shocked you're still willing..."

"Well I don't just abandon my friends when things get difficult or they're being so. Sherlock, I see death every day for my job. I speak with and explain to and console grieving families. Crying, screaming, falling to their knees sometimes. So I know how short life is. Circumstances happen. People can be gone in a split second, so I don't tend to take that for granted regardless of how difficult a day has been. I try to live one day at a time. Moment by moment. But I'm human too, and I still get sad or frustrated or angry sometimes. I know I've gotten plenty angry with you before. You forgave me too."

"There isn't anything you've ever said or done that I didn't need to hear or didn't need as a wake-up call. There wasn't anything that needed to be forgiven. But you asked, so I obliged."

She flips the omelettes and smiles to herself softly. "Good to know you felt that way. I did feel guilty after I slapped you that time though. That's not like me, I don't use violence to get my point across when I'm angry."

"Hm, yes, well, I may have rubbed off on you a bit there. I did throw a man out of a window multiple times for even daring to threaten Mrs. Hudson. So...there's that. Among other things at other times."

Molly giggles. "I remember her telling me that. You threw him right on top of her new garbage bins. How dare you mark them up with blood?", she snorts.

Sherlock chuckles deeply, an aura of relief and calmness flowing over his body. Smiling softly he gets up and joins her in the kitchen. "How about I get some coffee started?"

"Sounds great", she grins, looking up at him.

He can feel his heart fluttering like a butterfly's wings, but tries to brush it off since he isn't used to that feeling.

Turning to the coffee machine, he begins brewing their coffee, watching Molly out of the corner of his eye. She hums as she puts two pieces of toast into the toaster so they can have some toast and jam with their eggs.

"Hey, Sherlock?", she asks, sounding extremely nervous. It's a stark difference from how she sounded mere moments ago.

"Yes?"

"Um...do you remember what you said last night when we were drifting to sleep?"

He makes a face, looking a bit confused. "No...? Why, what did I say?" Internally he begins to panic and his heart beats faster.

Molly bites her lip and shuffles her feet nervously. "Oh, nothing really, I just told you to sleep well, and well, that's not exactly what you replied to."

"Molly, what did I say? If it was anything odd, I assure you in my drifting state of mind I didn't mean it, or I was just confused.

"Right...nothing really. It's not important."

"If it's not important, you wouldn't have brought it up and I know that you don't happen to bring anything up that doesn't matter. So just spill and tell me what the I bloody said please?"

Sighing heavily, she turns back to the omelettes and mutters. "You said "I love you too", and I didn't say anything regarding that, I had just told you to sleep well."

Sherlock can feel his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. He didn't even get a chance to work through his feelings himself. He knew there was a part of him that knew it to be true, but now he had accidentally spilled that truth to Molly in a state of sleepiness, and of course she would want an explanation. "What's the very worst thing you can do to your very best friends? Tell them your darkest secret. Because, if you tell them, and they decide they'd rather not know, you can't take it back, you can't unsay it. Once you've opened your heart, you can't close it again." Faith, er, well, Eurus apparently (God only knows how she knew), had told him that she had remembered Culverton saying this to 'her' (Faith). Despite his horrifying nature, his words are blatantly correct. Sherlock can't unsay it this time, not when he wasn't under duress.

Taken aback and unsure of what to say, all he can think to do is apologize. "I-I...apologize."

"For not meaning it, or for meaning it and not caring to do anything about it?"

"Molly..."

Sighing, she holds up a hand. "Forget it, Sherlock. It's fine. We're friends, and I'm content to be friends. I realized a long time ago that that is all we are ever going to be so it's really fine; I assure you. I'm totally fine. I didn't mean to sound so snappy."

"John told me once that if a woman ever said she was fine, that she really wasn't and just didn't want to delve into the depths of why she wasn't in fact fine."

Molly scoffs and sighs. "Well, pretend you don't know that, hm?"

"I can't pretend I don't know something; you know that's not my style. Nor would I want to, especially if it regards you."

"Sherlock", Molly says in a warning tone.

"No, Molly. I can't forget this now. I'd like to explain, I really would. But I want to also be honest with you, and in the name of honesty I have to tell you that I am still working out how I feel, and all the events of the last year or so. A lot has happened, and I'm really confused as to how I feel right now. I need time to work through everything. I wish I could be more like you or John in the way that you both know how or what you feel at any given moment, but I just can't, and I am sorry for that. I mean it. But when I have the answers, I can assure you that I will give them to you. I swear."

She looks at him, her hardened stare becoming a soft, sympathetic gaze. It makes his heart flip in his chest. "I understand. I know that people say things they don't mean sometimes. As much as I try not to think about it, I was one of those people myself at one time. I hated being a liar because I knew it wasn't right. Finally, I just had to come clean to both myself and the other person involved. Because I know I'm better than living a lie. You deserve the time to work through everything you need to. I get that more than anyone."

"Tom?"

"Tom", she confirms softly.

"I wasn't lying when I told you that you deserved to be happy, Molly. You do. If anyone in the world does, it's you."

"It's pretty ironic since you're the one who made me realize that I do deserve happiness. And with Tom, I was settling. I don't want to settle. I want...I want...happiness and stability and love. Not the fake kind, the real thing. I always have and always will. I just wasn't feeling that Tom was it for me anymore after a while. I'm glad I broke up with him, but I am a bit upset that it didn't work because I'm not getting any younger."

"I had a feeling that I may have had something to do with it. Probably why after you slapped me, I was so rude. Which, again, I am sorry for. It wasn't nice of me to bring that up in front of everyone when you were still sore about it."

Molly shrugs. "I slapped you. You were justified in snapping back. We were both pretty wrong for our actions that day."

"Agreed..."

"So how about we put this behind us as well and just enjoy breakfast hm?"

Sherlock nods and smiles softly. "Alright." He doesn't want to hurt her anymore, but his heart is making it more and more abundantly clear that he did mean those words back at Sherrinford, and he did mean them last night, as even his unconscious brain knows. However, getting his fully awake brain to recognize the truth is proving much more difficult.

He and Molly eat their breakfast and engage in pretty normal conversation for them, which mostly includes work, Rosie, and Molly's cat. It's always comfortable and right having her around. If only he could convince himself to take the very real plunge. Knowing that if he does, there is absolutely no turning back.

Sherlock realizes something he has always been ignorant to the weight of. As it goes, once you let out the truth, you really can't unsay it. You can't just take it back. Hearts will already be affected. Minds will already be spinning. And paths will already be changing. In a single moment.