requested by the lovely juldooz: #67, "If I could go back, I wouldn't change anything."
Everything felt so broken. Sherlock felt shattered and berated himself for getting Molly into such a mess, as he watched her heart break right in front of his eyes during the phone call. His heart ached with longing and the painful knowledge that he had hurt her.
But here, in her arms, he felt that things could be okay; that maybe, she could forgive him. For everything. In fact, that's what she was whispering to him.
"It's gonna be okay," Molly repeated like a mantra. "It's not your fault."
He tried so hard to keep it in but he was tired of hiding and repressing himself for the sake of cold logic. Molly deserved to see him; all of him. After all, he trusted nobody else with the fragility of his heart which had shattered into jagged pieces from the earlier events.
Molly felt his silent tears hit her neck and was unable to hold back her own. They held each other for what felt like hours, here in her bed, Sherlock's face still buried in the crook of her neck. Her fingers soothed him with the gentle twisting of his curls with one hand while the other traced patterns on his back.
"I'm sorry; I'm so sorry, Molly," he murmured against her skin. It felt like he was kissing her as he spoke and she couldn't suppress the chill that overcame her.
"Sherlock, it wasn't your fault," she insisted. "But I forgive you all the same."
"It's not the way it should've been," he spoke more clearly, his eyes boring into hers.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"That's not how I wanted to tell you," he admitted. "Those words were ripped from us and it's all wrong."
"I should have never forced it out of you," Molly told him. "I feel awful for that, but honestly, if I could go back, I wouldn't change anything."
"Why?" Sherlock asked.
"We're not exactly normal, are we?" Molly laughed. "Of course, it would take a situation such as this for us to clear the air."
"Would you prefer for us to be normal?" he asked.
"Never. I love being different. And I love you, Sherlock Holmes," she spoke softly. He moved in slowly as she did until their lips met in an all consuming kiss. Sherlock didn't hold back, his passion not going unnoticed by Molly. They hummed in pleasure against each other's mouths, their tongues meeting for the first time.
She threw her leg over his, wanting to pull him closer. His lips moved from hers and trailed down her jaw, down to her neck where he pressed open mouthed kisses. Molly held on to him for dear life, trying to remember how to breathe properly as his lips caressed her skin.
"I love you," he whispered. Molly gasped as he pressed kisses along her shoulder and across her clavicle, moving down even further to the slight swell of her breasts. "I love you so much." She savored his words in her heart and he captured her lips once more. Molly broke away and kissed his cheek just as tenderly as he once did. His hand automatically went to his cheek as if that were the best kiss he ever received.
Sherlock pulled her in close and held her, his face buried in her hair, pressing kisses where he could reach. His fingers splayed against her stomach were laced with hers.
"Will you still be here in the morning?" she asked, her voice suddenly small.
"I promise," he replied. "Goodnight my darling Molly."
"Goodnight, Sherlock, my love."