It had now been 3 days since Molly, John and Greg had told us about their move. She was just hoping that John had kept his word and Sherlock hadn't said anything about it yet.
Molly was in her flat right now and was organising a few things regarding her move. She hated doing everything at the last second. She had a couple of hours before her shift at Bart's, so she could start packing or sorting out a few things.
In the next few weeks she had planned to fly to Ireland and get a first impression of her new home. She also wanted to explore her new home to see what she could take with her and what she would have to part with. One thing she already knew for sure. Sherlock was a part of it, from which she had to separate her heart and herself.
She was even given a few days off from her work to organise and travel. Yes, Molly was sure that a short trip from London would be just what she needed. She just needed that holiday and the less she was in hospital, the less she would run into Sherlock.
She still didn't know if and how she should tell Sherlock about her plans. But apparently, she thought, he wouldn't care. After all, he now had to deal with the renovation and reconstruction of his flat. Besides, he seemed to be avoiding her for some reason. The first meeting after that phone call was anything but pleasant.
Molly soon realised that he had been visibly uncomfortable being in the same room with her, let alone looking her in the eye. But Molly also felt more tense and inhibited in his presence than ever before. Yes, that call had definitely destroyed something between them, she knew that now.
Still her thoughts of that day circled through her head and it was obviously harder for her to stay focused. Again and again she fought against the tears. During the day she managed to do quite well with the help of her work or organising her move, but in the evening, when she was alone in her bed, she lost all struggle and cried herself to sleep every day.
But one thing is clear. But she did not want to feel like that anymore. She didn't want to cry every night over a man who had used her all these years just for his own benefit.
She just hoped that her move would help her and that she could forget Sherlock for good.
Until then, she just had to keep being strong.
It was now late afternoon. Molly had started her shift at Bart's a few hours ago and was on her way to the lab.
But when she opened the door and entered the room, she froze without further ado when she saw who was sitting at one of the tables in front of her looking into a microscope.
Sherlock also froze when he saw her.
'Oh, this is going to be visibly uncomfortable now,' Molly thought to herself and twisted her eyes inside.
She took another deep breath and then carefully entered the room. Slowly she walked past him and unconsciously inhaled his scent.
'That scent. His breathtaking scent. Oh, man how I'm going to miss him,' she thought to herself and found it difficult to stay on her feet as she felt her knees slowly soften.
No. Stop! What am I thinking? I have a plan and I need to concentrate,' she rebuked herself and shook her head inconspicuously to make these thoughts disappear.
"Hello Sherlock. Another case? And is the renovation of the flat going well?' she asked instead, carefully and in a low voice.
"Yes," he replied succinctly and looked further through the lens in front of him.
Molly sighed slightly.
"Sorry, I forgot that you're not in the mood for small talk. I'll just go about my work and be quiet," she stammered.
'Oh, man, why am I always so nervous around him and coming in here like an idiot? she then asked herself in her mind. She felt her cheeks gradually warm up.
Sherlock looked at her with a slightly astonished expression on his face, but then nodded and devoted himself to his investigations again.
At some point, however, something that John had told him came back to his mind.
'Talk to her before it's too late!'
Perhaps now was the opportunity. He took another deep breath and then began to speak.
"Molly? About the phone call..."
But Molly interrupted him at the same time.
"Sherlock. You don't have to say anything. I know what happened."
He looked at her, slightly confused. He also heard that she had gone over to YOU by now. But he was OK with it. After all, they were friends. That's what he had called her back then.
"Did John tell you?" he then asked and finally looked into her eyes.
Her eyes were slightly reddened and glassy. She had cried a lot in the last days.
When Molly noticed that he was trying to analyse her, she quickly turned her face away from him. She was uncomfortable for him to see her like that.
"No but he didn't have to. The other day when I was with John and wanted to talk to you, I happened to overhear your conversation. Obviously you have a sister who threatened to kill me and the only way you could save me was to call me," she explained. Her eyes were fixed on the devices in front of her.
His previous facial expression changed to astonishment. Molly had understood. He was relieved. Especially since he no longer needed to explain himself. After all, he still did not know how to describe his feelings.
"Okay, good. Then you understand."
Molly just nodded and then focused on her work again.
The two of them worked silently side by side for a while. Molly had to suppress the urge to take a look at the man next to her every now and then. An eerie silence spread between the two of them. The air was almost thick enough to be cut.
Eventually, Molly couldn't take it anymore and broke the silence.
'Now or never', she thought to herself.
"'Sherlock' she whispered softly.
He reacted with a soft "Hmm?" but did not raise his eyes.
"I...I'm going away. I'm leaving London," she stammered. She didn't want to see the look on his face and kept staring at the table in front of her. But she was glad that it was finally out. Even if somehow it was harder than she thought.
Sherlock paused and turned his head in horror. There was horror in his eyes. Molly did not see him, as she was trying vehemently not to raise her head.
Sherlock did not answer. Disappointment came over Molly. She had actually expected it but still she felt strangely sad. Then after a while, he finally found his words again.
"Well, I wish you all the best and I hope you'll be happy where you're going," he then said. It almost sounded reproachful and as if he was offended somehow.
Inside his head he hit his forehead with his hand.
'What did he say? I wish you all the best? No, that's not the way it should go'
Then he wordlessly took his coat from the backrest, put it on and left the room.
Molly was perplexed. She looked after him with an expression of horror and confusion. Of course, she had expected that he wouldn't be interested but she had secretly wished for a slightly different reaction from him.
Disappointed and sad, she continued to sort through her papers and then disappeared from the laboratory as well.