Prompt fill for cumberbabeusa on Tumblr. (Longer author note at the end.)
Sherlock comes home to a silent flat, no sign of his wife of three years, although her coat is still hanging by the door. He removes his Belstaff and scarf and places them on the hook next to hers before moving further into the sitting room.
He hears a sniffle from the bathroom and quickly strides down the hall. He pushes on the door and finds Molly Holmes crouched on the floor, looking blankly at the object in her hand. The hopelessness on her face terrifies him.
Instantly deducing what has happened, he kneels down and picks up his wife, one arm around her shoulders, the other in place under her knees. Her arms fold around him, and she places her head in the space between his head and shoulder, breathing in the comforting scent of her husband.
He carries her into their bedroom and lays her on the bed, removing his shoes before climbing in next to her, pulling her to him so that her back rests against his chest. He brings his lips to her ear but does not speak because what can he say that he hasn't already? They have been attempting to conceive for months, but with every failed pregnancy test, their hope is shattered a little bit more.
"It was negative again. I'm sorry, Sherlock," she whispers, placing one hand over his on her abdomen, interlocking their fingers. "I really thought it was going to happen this time."
"Shh. I know, Molly. But this isn't your fault. You can't blame yourself." He emphasizes this with a soft kiss to her cheek, trying to soothe the woman in his arms.
"But the doctor said –,"
"I don't care what that inadequate excuse for a physician told you. We are partners, Molly. And if your body isn't ready to carry a child, then we will find another way. Together."
She turns her head to look at him, and he is bowled over by the regret he sees in her eyes. He wants to make it better, to kiss away her pain. She is on the verge of tears, and he knows he is not far behind. He strokes her hair, waiting for her to calm down enough to speak.
"So you aren't mad?" she asks timidly. He gives her a bittersweet smile that does not quite reach his eyes, kissing her tenderly before pulling away to gaze into her brown eyes.
"Of course I'm not mad. Disappointed, maybe, but we have other options. We have not been able to conceive naturally or with those horrid drugs the doctor insisted we try. Perhaps we should consider adoption. We discussed that last time, remember?"
She nods up at him, looking down at their intertwined hands, holding onto the phantom child that continues to elude them. She closes her eyes and snuggles into his embrace. He squeezes her in response, wanting to be as close to the woman he loves as possible.
They lay there for a long time, wordlessly consoling each other, until Molly breaks the silence. "We're going to be okay, aren't we, Sherlock?"
"Of course we are, Molly. We're going to be fine."
What did you think? Let me know! I love hearing everyone's thoughts!
Because one reviewer pointed it out, I would like to mention that the title of this story, "Complements" is in fact spelled correctly. A compliment is something nice you say to someone else (for instance, I adore all of you for following, favoriting, and reviewing!). A complement is something that completes or matches with another. (In my mind, Sherlock and Molly are 'complements'.) I hope that clears up any confusion.
On a sadder note, this will probably be my last update on this collection for a while, as I am currently preoccupied with school. I am, however, writing a longer one-shot that will be posted separately, so I would be overjoyed if you guys would read that once it is posted.
