Hi everyone! This is my first Sherlock Fanfic. It's definitely Sherlolly so don't lose hope. Things get worse before they get better. The first few chapters are based off the song My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Sherlock or any of the characters. Just a huge fan with an active imagination.

My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift.

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Chapter 1 - Worst Day

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe

All the hell you gave me?

'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you

'Til my dying day

"I love you." Molly whispered, almost inaudibly, as she clutched her phone tightly. So tight that she could hear the plastic casing on her phone groan at the pressure.

The line went dead and she stood frozen. Her eyes filled with tears, her vision started to blur and she could no longer see anything. She threw her phone at the wall, and watched in satisfaction as it broke into tiny pieces, it was completely shattered…. much like her heart. As she stood staring down at her phone she subconsciously balled her hands into fists so tight that her fingernails left deep cuts in her palms. She sank to the floor, curled herself into a foetal position and cried. When she opened her eyes again the sun had set. She slowly sat up and groaned, she turned her neck left and right to work the kinks out. She felt her palms burn and she could see the marks that her fingernails left. She stumbled to the loo, turned on the tap and watched the blood wash away from the half moon cuts.

She braced her arms on both sides of the sink. She looked up at herself in the mirror and she could see her emotions plain as day on her face. She hated that she was so easy to read. He could always read her easily. She could see anger, sadness, hopelessness…he told her he loved her….hope? No there was no hope. Everything with him was a game or he had an ulterior motive.

They had come so far…or so she thought. He relied on her, told her she counted the most. After he "died" she opened up her home to him and her heart opened even more. He came back to life and things were good…or so she thought.

Before Sherlock called her she was already having a bad day. She had been working overtime, going above and beyond for the chance at a big promotion. Mike Stamford was finally retiring and this was her shot to become the department head for the Pathology Department at Barts. Mike had dangled the carrot over her head for two years. Hinting at the fact that she would get it…but it didn't happen…of course not, nothing great happened to Dr Molly Hooper it seemed. They had decided to hire an external candidate, some American who went to Harvard, Jamie Doyle III…6 years Molly's junior. He had limited experience in preforming autopsies and zero experience in running a department but Jamie Doyle Sr. was on the board at Barts so it was nepotism at its finest. She was at her breaking point. No matter what…she was invisible. No one cared about her. She gave and she gave and she gave. Good ol' Molly. Sweet Molly. Morbid Molly. Mousy Molly. Don't make jokes Molly. Your lips and breasts are small Molly.

She slowly walked to her bedroom in defeat. She stripped all her clothes off, naked and vulnerable…psychically, mentally and emotionally. She avoided the mirror that hung on the inside of her bedroom door, she knew she would only see imperfections and she couldn't handle it…not today. Not bothering with PJs she took her well worn dove grey robe and slipped in on her like a shield. She tied the belt tight….maybe that would stop the pain. She crawled under the covers and pulled them over her head as she wept. Tomorrow she was going to be different…..tomorrow she would start the life she should have been living a long time ago but tonight she would allow herself to grieve for the life she was leaving behind.

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The next morning Molly's alarm went off like normal. She blindly reached for the snooze button but she misjudged where it was and sent the whole clock crashing to the floor instead. Ugh. She really didn't want to turn smashing all her electronics into a habit. She decided she had better give her TV and microwave a wide berth until her bad luck was over. Who was she kidding, bad luck followed her everywhere. She told herself to stop it. To stop the pity party. She needed to change her attitude. She normally wasn't like this. She could always see the brighter side of things.

A list… that's what she needed to make. At work, she always felt more in control and organised when she made a list. She leaned over, opened the drawer to her bedside table and pulled out a notepad and pen. She propped up her pillows behind her back, got comfortable and thought about what she should put on her list. She tapped the pen softly on her chin and concentrated.

"Ok, I need to keep it straight and to the point. What and why." She mumbled out loud to herself.

1. What? Stop talking out loud to myself. Why? Because I sound like a crazy person.

2. What? Dont be so open. Keep my emotions to myself. Why? Because it makes me weak.

3. What? Get a cat. Why? Because I always wanted one and stereotypes be damned. Who cares if I am single and in my thirties. I love cats. Nothing to be ashamed of.

4. What? Go out more. Why? My life is passing me by. I don't want to be eighty, in a wheelchair and regret not going places. My life can't consist of work and home. It's not healthy.

5. What? New wardrobe. Why? I need to be confident. If I dress for the part I get the part. No more shopping in the kids section. Wear nice underwear. I am beautiful show the world I am… inside and out. No more hiding the assets just because I feel insecure.

6. What? New job! Why? Because I deserve a job where my skills and hard work are recognised.

Molly hesitated on number seven. She didn't want to write it out. She dropped the pen like it was on fire. She cradled her head in hands as a tear fell down her face. It was time to move on…from Sherlock and she knew the only way to do that was to do what she had to write. She picked up the pen, slowly and agonisingly wrote…

7. What? It's time to move….away from London…maybe England. Why? I need to get over him. If I stay here the rest of my life will be absolutely miserable. He doesn't want me. I've given him all that I am and it's still not enough.

With moving on comes the chance of maybe finding love elsewhere. She wanted to throw up but she wanted to be loved, deserved to be loved. She wanted marriage and children. She wanted Sherlock. Why couldn't he just love her and mean it?

8. What? Find someone else to love. Someone who will love me back. Why? Because it's what I deserve.

She put the pen down shakily and stood up. It was time to look at herself in the mirror. She shed her robe…her shield and stepped in front of the mirror. She slowly twisted her body , looking at herself at every angle. She felt something blooming in her chest….something she hadn't felt in a long time…hope.

She decided not to delay on getting the list started. She would skip work, something she had never done, and go shopping. In the past she was afraid to miss work because the chance of seeing Sherlock kept her from doing just that. He came in at least three to four times a week. If it wasn't for a case, it would be to do experiments in the lab or to beg her body parts to test at 221b. Today was a new day, a new Molly and she wasn't going to let that hold her back . She opened her wardrobe and looking inside. Oh dear she really needed new clothes. All her tops were multicoloured and knitted. All her trousers were baggy and shapeless. Yes they were comfortable but being comfortable isn't going to help you land a great job…or man. She picked out a simple black long sleeve cardigan and the only pair of skinny jeans she had. She looked at herself and decided it was better than what she normally wore. She then smoothed lipstick on her lips smooshing them together then pouting. The brand and name was MAC All Fired Up, it was given to her as a Secret Santa gift last year and at the time she thought she couldn't pull it off. Now, she embraced the bold colour and smiled. Applying mascara, putting on little hoop earrings and leaving her hair down, her simple but classy look was complete. She looked younger, more confident and felt pretty. She slipped on black flats, grabbed her bag, and opened the door. The first place she needed to go to was Carphone Warehouse and get a new phone. A fancy one one she never would allow her self to before because it was too expensive and frivolous. As she locked the door and turned to walk out of her building she heard…

"Hi Molly."

Molly jumped and almost screamed. Dread filled her very soul. She looked over by the mail boxes and saw him.

"Hi John, what are you doing here."