Thanks to Starlight-falls on tumblr for suggesting this song. This chapter is based on 'The Call' from Regina Spektor from The Chronicles of Narnia. It counts as Disney. I wasn't to sure about this at first, but as I started writing I liked it more and more. It also went in a completely different direction than I intended. Warning for MCD.

Thanks to Eloiseattheplaza and benedicted-cumberbatched for helping me with this!

DISCLAIMER: I really don't own anything

Molly met him at Uni and was lost the moment he walked into the room. She never stood a chance, if you asked her. She could have blamed it on the boy's hair, or his clothes, but really it was his eyes. They drew her in the moment he looked at her. What was the phrase? "There were galaxies in his eyes." It rang true for Sherlock Holmes. She felt exposed, naked even, under his fierce gaze. She had nothing to hide, but she was fearful of what he would find. His eyes told what his body and voice wouldn't. They betrayed him, if one knew how to read them. A talent she learned very quickly.

Of course, he was the rudest asshole she had ever met. How one person could manage to insult every person in room with one word, she didn't know. Never her though. He made his comments and they would sting, but she never thought that he was insulting her. She knew he was more than his insults and remarks. He was a man who was afraid to let people in, and used his intelligence to keep them out.

Over time, she got to know him. He let very few people into his life, but when he let someone in, they became his family. He would protect them with everything he had. John Watson was the perfect example. He was of no kin to Sherlock, but they would do anything for each other. She liked to think that she was one of the people he cared about but she wouldn't get her hopes up. To be one of the people who mattered to Sherlock Holmes was a miracle. Why would she be so lucky? No matter how much she loved him.

It was just a nagging feeling in the back of her head at first. Sure she was attracted to him physically, but personality wise, there was nothing appealing about him. Yet, over time, he opened up and she fell in love with his soul, his very being, all that he was. Towards the end of their last year, he began acting different towards her. He opened up more, walked closer to her, his stare lingered just a little bit longer than normal. However he felt about her though, he would always be 'the one that got away.' School ended and they had to go their separate ways. Molly had accepted that things between her and Sherlock Holmes would never work out. That was easier said than done though.

He never told her goodbye and she never said goodbye to him either. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

Life had settled down and Molly couldn't be happier. She was finally settling into her new flat and she had an amazing job. Actually, getting the job at Barts was probably one of the best things that had ever happened to her. She didn't actually think she would. Now she had the honor of being the youngest pathologist there. Of course that came with its setbacks. She had to deal with people muttering under their breath, comments about her being a woman, and being too young for the position. She did her best to ignore them all and keep her head high. She was fine until he came back into her life.

While she didn't think about him all the time, Sherlock was always in the back of her mind. After they graduated, she hadn't heard from him. He had never tried to contact her, but she didn't try to contact him either. She could use the excuse of being busy, but heartbreak was the main reason. She knew what would happen if she allowed Sherlock to say in her life. No man would be able to compete with him, especially if he was around. So, when he walked through the doors of the lab, Molly's breath caught in her throat and she could see her dreams of romance dissolve.

That's how the next years of her life were. Sherlock would come in and out of her life as he pleased and she would always be waiting on him. She was at his beck and call. Maybe things hadn't changed that much after all. She tried dating but none of them could compare with the storm that was Sherlock Holmes.

Of course some of the men she dated turned out to be insane. Jim Moriarty being the main example. He used her to get close to Sherlock, something she always felt guilty for. So, when Sherlock came to her for help, she couldn't refuse, not that she would have anyway. Everything was planned out. He'd meet Moriarty on the roof and end up jumping, killing himself. It was up to her to stop that from happening.

It all went off without a hitch. Sherlock Holmes was dead, off to take down Moriarty's network and Molly was left to keep the secret. Went it came time for him to actually leave, neither one said goodbye. He claimed he had a life to win back, a reputation to reclaim. She claimed that goodbyes were too final. If they were both honest, not saying it gave them both a reason to ignore the pain they were both feeling. It gave him a reason to come back. A kiss on the forehead and he was gone.

Fifty five years later, Molly found herself in the cottage she shared with her husband. He was still going over case files. 93 years old and he still had the sharpest mind around. Hers was going though. She often found herself back in the morgue, or back on their honeymoon. She didn't much care either way, Sherlock was always there. But she knew things were getting bad when she thought her great-grandson was her daughter.

As she laid in bed, she looked at her husband beside her. He still had those curls, though they had long since turned grey. She thought back to their wedding day. There had been no planning, no grand gestures, just them. Well, them, John, Mary and a priest. Mycroft had the paperwork rushed and they were married by sunset. Neither one of them would have changed a thing though. Not long after, their first daughter was born followed by two sons.

She curled around him, he shifted and turned in his sleep. She watched him as he dreamed. The lines that had etched themselves on his face told their own story. Years of strife, laughter and grief. Memories rested in those lines. She nestled closer to him and smiled as he pulled her near. Closing her eyes, the years they shared passed played out in her mind. They had never once said goodbye to each other, and even though she knew her time was running out, she wasn't about to start now.