Molly Hooper had always loved Sherlock from the bottom of her weak, crippled and so ridiculously previsible heart. But the most important part here is that she had also cried a lot.
She could remember some of these times way too much. In a way that, without her knowing how, brought tears again in the badest days. The first incident took place in the lab, while she was enjoying a serious relationship, at last. Or, to express it more clearly, she believed it was a serious relationship. The second one, of course, ocurred during that terrible Christmas night.
That night, Molly prepared herself with an unusual sense of detail, put her best dress on, and even made a difficult choice among her small quantity of earrings. Then Sherlock decided to perform his regular show and all the joy vanished off the room. Well, for once, the sadness resulting from the behaviour she was already accustomed to gave her the opportunity of a kiss. On her cheek, but still a kiss though.
This is exactly how things had been again and again between Molly Hooper and her beloved Sherlock Holmes. He hurt her a little and she presented him her forgiveness on a platter. Small injuries inside, yet plentiful, and so many evenings to spend in front of the TV, looking at but not watching any kind of content, just crying. Molly had always been the silent woman longing for the first protagonist. To a certain extent, it had suited her well for a while. Her constant timidity and inability to crack great jokes naturally kept her in the corner. And yes, for a while, she had been okay with that role.
Loving Sherlock and stealing from him short moments of attention was enough. As a tacit agreement, he used to tell her some compliments and she used to agree with any of his demands in exchange.
But this specific demand might have been the one demand too many.
"I love you."
Oh, she already knew that it was an urgent situation. Indeed, Mycroft came to her flat in the early morning of the following day to apologize on behalf of his sister. Several members of his staff were searching for potential explosives indoors in the meanwhile.
"She told him you were about to die," he said, walking on her side as she was going downstairs to retrieve her mail, "but I guess he has already explained the context to you."
"No."
"Excuse me?"
"No, he hasn't. I haven't heard from him since the call, but I understand he was trying his best to avoid a catastrophe. This time, at least."
Mycroft acted sufficiently respectful to not talk about the facts in detail. Maybe had he noticed the dark shadows surrounding her eyes and the fact that she was exhausted too.
Of course he had. Mycroft used to notice everything, so did his brother.
But John didn't want to play that game of politeness. He believed that conversing clearly about what was at stake could work as a catharsis for her. But instead of allowing her to evacuate her deep sorrow, the embarrassment began to reverberate on her words. She stuttered and blushed through the phone. John was also there at this time. John attended her confidence.
"We're sorry we haven't visited you yet, but the flat is a real mess currently," he said with a sort of shameful tone in his voice, "I really hope you're fine. Please, if you need anything, just tell us. We're so sorry."
Molly knew that John was speaking about himself and Sherlock without consulting the detective beforehand. To be honest, she even thought Sherlock was not caring at all. She lived. He did his best. Was it not enough?
"W-What would you be sorry for?" she replied to let him know that nothing was their fault.
"For involving you, of course. And… you know… sorry for that."
Molly closed her eyes, unable to respond. John was obviously speaking for himself.
"I know it was a difficult moment for you. Mary and I discussed a lot about Sherlock's behaviour in the past, but I can assure you that, this time, it was difficult for him too."
Good to know. But not enough. Even a stupid kiss on the cheek would not be enough.
Because yes, the sorrow remained deep. Deepest than these celadon-green eyes in which she could have lost herself so many times.
Yes, it was not their fault and yes, she would not blame Sherlock for trying to save her life, even if it included ripping her heart apart. But this terrible night, drown in pain, sadness and the shame she felt, let her eventually know that it was too much.
So yes, Molly Hooper loved Sherlock and cried a lot for him. This is exactly why she made herself a promise.