Taking a drawn-out breath as he collects everything he wants to say, he slowly continues.

"I realized that Eurus had made you the target because it was true. I did.../do/...love you. It just so happened that the fact hadn't struck me until the moment you told me to say it first. I was taken aback, and I said I out of obligation and desperation to save your life...and then looking at you on that screen and seeing the coffin in the reflection and feeling this-this incredibly crushing feeling in my chest, I knew it was true and I knew you needed to hear me sound sincere if I were to truly save you, even knowing that my obligatory first chance would have been enough for you to hear because I owed it to you after everything you've ever done for me. But it wasn't good enough because you needed to hear it from me the way I felt it and so that second time...it was true, it was real and raw, despite all circumstances of the moment. I realized in that moment that everything I had ever done or said with you or around you or to you, had been exactly /because/ I loved you. I even had myself fooled as to why I did some of the things I did, unless I subconsciously ignored the reason."

"Like terrifying your potential dates at Bart's or holding you in your bed before leaving for Europe, which led to Serbia and nearly my death which I accounted for. Even the moments we had previous to that and after that. Tearing down Jim when you thought he was your boyfriend, telling you he was gay in the harshest way possible. And what about when I found out you were engaged in that hallway when you assisted me with that case? I know we both felt something. The fact that you were engaged to Tom, or even at all, always irked me. Constantly. I despised that fact, and I never knew why. I knew I wasn't the type of man, nor the type of lifestyle you wanted. Then there's when I made intimacy jokes at you when I was high, even in public, as if I were trying to shame you for being attracted to me as some sort of twisted revenge for putting me through your engagement to that sham of a man. Or the passes I made at you in the back of the ambulance...that was...one of my lowest moments. I practically threw myself at you and I'm glad you put me in my place. Even though the kiss was rude and at the totally wrong time...it was still nice for me; though I'm so glad you pushed me away and yelled at me. It was inappropriate and the complete worst time. I don't remember if I ever apologized for all that...taking off your sweater and ruining your hair and...being rough with you. That's...that's not me, and...I was in the worst place, but that's not an excuse and I'm so sorry."

"I forgive you, Sherlock. I know all the drugs you had taken and what a horrific state you were in. I can handle you. About all the other things, I-I never once saw those things as jealousy because I believed that even if you were on the market for a girlfriend, it wouldn't be someone like me...it would be someone like-...er, well...I think you know."

Sherlock scoffs. "Irene? Right? Well, no, you're wrong. She is the exact opposite of what any girlfriend should ever be. Though I can't say she wasn't a very fun challenge while it lasted. Molly, you're the woman who has had my back this whole time. I'd have been pure stupid not to see that. I did see that. I was just purely stupid enough to dismiss it and take advantage because I could. That was wrong, and I see all of those things clearly now. I had a pretty bad mean streak, especially when it came to you and how I felt. You never deserved any of it. You will have my apologies until the end of time."

"As I said, you're already forgiven. That's all in the past. I want us to be on a new page. Okay?"

He nods and a small smile tugs at the left corner of his mouth. "Mrs. Hudson saw it. That I loved you. Not immediately, but after a while. She told me how perfect you were for me, and I always just dismissed her. I had the privilege of speaking with her. A nice, deep conversation, a couple of days before she passed away, and you're one of the things we spoke about. Said almost the same as what John had told me once. Life is short, chances don't last forever...and I thought I had everything figured out by this stage of my life, and after speaking to her everything was turned upside down. And then when I visited Eurus today, she told me that I could either choose to explore a relationship with you, or I could continue to be what I've been. She said if I chose you, it would slowly destroy my career. I think she meant slowly and eventually, the more I become conditioned to being a part of a duo. She's one of the most brilliant minds in the world, so I believed her. She had also pointed out all the times that I had subconsciously equated love to moments with you...she reminded me that those feelings were always there, deep under the surface, and that they still are. Seems I bury a lot of things that happen to bother me at one point or another, like Victor."

Molly chews on her lip, a habit she has when she's either thinking hard or unsure how to react to something. Covering Sherlock's hand with her other one, she takes a deep breath. "I nearly forgot about that...you've had two deeply emotional funerals to attend this year. I am so sorry, Sherlock. That takes a toll on anyone, but I think that because you've suppressed yourself for so long, it's thrown you off so much, made you question everything, and turned your life in a new direction. Whether that's a good or bad thing is to be seen, but I'd love for it to all have happened for the better. It seems like Victor loved you, you were kids. Best friends. Then Martha...we both know what she meant to you; she was like another Mum to you. I think you have lost quite enough for a while. That being said, I want to assure you that you won't lose me, no matter what you decide. I promise, alright? I've been there for you in the past and whatever happens, I'll continue to stand by you into the future."

Sherlock can feel his eyes begin to fill with tears, despite how hard he fought to keep them from doing just that. Before he can ask, Molly leans closer and wraps her arms around him. He immediately buries his face into her shoulder and turns towards her neck, breathing her in as shuddering, quiet cries escape him. "I need you. I feel so untethered...so lost. More than ever, and I don't know what to do", he chokes out. "I always know what to do and I'm at a complete loss."

Molly gently strokes her fingers through his curls, and /God/ are they just as fluffy and soft as she had ever imagined! Nodding she replies, "You'll figure everything out. In a healthy way. Hm? Then you can decide how to move forward. I care about you and always have, despite having feelings for you, and underneath was always just this pit of worry for your wellbeing no matter what. The moment I met you, I knew you were going to make my life a crazy rollercoaster, and I chose to let you because you weaseled your way into your mind and heart that very first day and never left, despite the wretched state you were in, attempting to detox yourself."

A deep, muffled chuckle comes from her shoulder, and he raises his head again, fixing his hair. "What /was/ Lestrade thinking letting me tag along?"

Molly laughs and snorts cutely. "I haven't the faintest! But then again, he's not the sharpest tool in the NSY shed, eh? Poor Greg", she continues to giggle.

"No, not the sharpest whatsoever, more like one of the antiques! Valued and sought after, but...worn down."

"Aww...", she chuckles. "He's such a nice guy though. He's like a big brother to you; dare I say a better one than Mycroft?"

"Definitely a better brother than Mycroft, kept me bloody alive when Myc nearly watched me be beaten to death. No comparison. I know he..."cares" in his own way, but he just doesn't ever go about it well. It begins to harm everyone around him, and he should really just give up."

"I don't think that. He shouldn't give up, but he should grow. Like you have."

"Ha. That'll be a cold day in hell, Molly."

"You never know, that situation with Eurus could have sobered him a bit too. It was taxing on all of you", she shrugs her shoulders.

"Mhh...I guess it's possible. But the fact that Mummy had to force him to come to the funeral is a sign that he hasn't changed much. Leaves the imagination to wonder."

"We can hope. Now, you must be hungry? Shall we have dinner?"

"I think I'd enjoy that."

"Good. I'll go grab it."

"Molly?"

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"Do you uh...do you really have to leave tonight? I know you miss your house, and your neighbor is probably sick of Toby, but maybe you could stay one more night?"

Molly puts the food in the microwave and turns towards him, leaning against the kitchen table. "I think that can be arranged", she smiles.

"Maybe...not in John's old room?"

"Not? It is a bit chilly up there, but I suppose I could take the sofa."

"No...not the sofa...", he bites his lip.

"No the so-oh! Ohhh...you mean..."

"Yes? It's not like we haven't er...spooned, I think is the phrase, before."

"Okay", she grins.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It was nice the last time."

"It was. Now, I-I think you should know that while I do want to attempt to begin maybe something of a dating type situation, that I don't think I'd be ready to immediately have-"

"I know, Sherlock. We can ease into things slowly, no rush."

"Oh. Okay. Yeah, good. Right."

Molly brings over their plates and pecks his cheek, causing him to blush slightly. "Now just eat your dinner, silly."

"Yes, ma'am", Sherlock grins, hungrily digging into her home-cooked meal.