Hi guys! I'm back! I am REALLY REALLY SORRY that I haven't been updating for a while. Hard to get your hands on a computer from where I am. :P Anyways I saw the follows and I was like OMG cuz I never got that much follows before! Even the reviews! I made a new record with this story! To make it up to you, guys, I give you a long chapter. Anyways, less chatter, and let the fun begin.

A dream is a scene or a set of images set loose by your subconscious when sleeping. There are different types of dreams. There are good, there are nightmares, and there's that trip-down-the-memory-lane kind of dream (which is also sort of a nightmare). Molly Hooper was stuck in those three. In her dream was the day Sherlock asked her out for dinner and for her, it was a nightmare. But her mind made it too good to be a nightmare. She knows its her sick mind taunting her, but she can't resist the sweet temptation of going back to that night.

It was around 9 in the evening when they left Bart's . Normally, it would be a little bit too late for dinner dates. But then again, Sherlock and Molly weren't normal people, were they?

"So, where are we going?" Molly asked, wrapping herself around her neck as Sherlock tried to hail a cab.

"Well, there's this great Chinese restaurant. Its cheap yet the food there is fantastic," He said without looking at her, very focused on the tedious task of hailing a cab. Until he heard a short giggle from Molly. "What is it?" He asked looking at her.

"Nothing. Its just that... Sherlock Holmes, the detective who keeps on saying that food is a distraction, rambling about how great the food s at a restaurant." Sherlock said with a smile on her face. Normally, Sherlock would be annoyed if she made a statement like that, but he can't help but smile this time.

"Well, even though I don't exactly fancy eating, I am still human. So I intend to make eating worth my time." He replied.

They finally managed to hail a cab and went to the restaurant and Sherlock was right; the food was fantastic. They spent their time talking and, surprisingly, laughing about their past experiences -well most of them were Molly's, but she was too caught up to care. If you didn't know them at all, you would have been sure that they were a normal, happy couple.

But only one can hope.

After dinner, Sherlock offered to take her back to her flat. At first, she was hesitant, saying that he should get back to his flat. But in the end, Sherlock got what he wanted. The ride home was awkward since it was filled like silence. But all of it was forgotten when they saw what awaited them at her flat.

"Hello, Molly."

"Tom, what are you doing here?" She asked, stopping dead at her tracks. This is not good.

"I was going to fetch a few things I left but, since you're 'occupied', I think I'll come back another time," Tom spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He stared coldly at Sherlock, who seems to be returning an equally cold one at Tom. "Still chasing after him, aren't you?"

"Tom-"

"N-N-NO. I won't even bother stopping something that obviously won't happen. Hell, I'm not even feeling jealous at all! But you two carry on. Don't let me spoil the fun," He said before walking away, only to turn around, all of a sudden. "Although, may I just say, I'm betting 50 quid that this pathetic excuse of an arse won't even bother to blink an eye if you left him." He said, before stalking off. Sherlock turned to Molly who looked absolutely stiff.

"Is that why you've been upset for the last few days?" He asked, concern evident from his voice.

"Sherlock, I don't want to talk about it. Let's just call it a night."

"Molly, I-"

"I don't want to talk about it."She said, walking in her building with Sherlock following. Whatever giddy mood Molly was in awhile ago, it was long gone and now replaced with a solemn expression. As for Sherlock, all he was thinking about was shoving his foot into Tom's non-existing di-

"So, I this is it." Molly said, cutting him from his obscene thoughts. He didn't even notice that he was outside her door already.'This is it,' Molly thought. 'The time where he'll turn around as if nothing happened.'

"Oh yes... um... Goodnight, Molly." He said, flashing her a smile.

"Yeah. Um... Goodnight." She said. But somehow, she felt that simply saying goodbye to him wasn't enough. It was a weird tingling feeling in her but she was certain that she won't regret it.

So she softly laid her palms on his shoulders and reached up to kiss his cheek. But instead of her lips coming in contact with his sharp cheekbones, she felt her lips being pressed into something softer. She opened her eyes to see Sherlock's closed ones, his breathing stilled and his heart beat racing. He looked angelic and innocent. Like he was a young schoolboy experiencing his first kiss.

They stayed like that for a few seconds before Molly pulled away, blushing as she felt Sherlock unconsciously lean towards her when she did. His eyelids fluttered open and he wanted to say something, but he was speechless.

"Um... Goodnight, Sherlock." She said as she opened the door to her flat only to feel her being pulled back by the wrist.

In an instant, she found herself in the arms of the consulting detective, his arms around her waist and their lips pressed wasn't as soft as the first one. It was full of passion and released emotions -emotions they never knew existed. It was then, Molly found herself pulling Sherlock into her flat and slamming the door shut. Her thoughts were right. She doesn't regret her actions.

But it was until the following morning, when she realized how wrong she was.

Molly woke up to see John standing beside the window, arms crossed and lost in thought. He looked a bit rough, but he didn't seem to mind. He turned to face her when he heard the sheets move.

"What time is it?" Molly asked, a hint of drowsiness in her voice.

"Almost eight thirty." He said, looking out to the morning sky again.

Molly sighed.

"Something's wrong, is there?"

"No, everything's absolutely fine," he said calmly before looking at her. "Except for the fact that you didn't tell me that my best friend was the father of your child." His gaze towards her was unreadable. Though John wasn't exactly mad at her, he used this tactic before during his military days; the guilt trip.

"John, I can't. I-"

"You what? You were afraid I was going to hurt him? That's the least of your worries, Molls. If you told me, I could've-"

"Could have what? Convince him to love me? To actually care for me?"

"Molly, you needed him."

"You're damn right I did!" She suddenly shouted. She wasn't the type of person to shout or even get mad at a friend. She was sweet and caring. Mousy Molly.

But that person was long gone, now.

"I needed him, John. And you don't have to be Sherlock Holmes to know that. It was his choice. He told me that he can't love me, and I know that he probably never will, but he was so stupid to think that that was what I needed. He told me that he doesn't want to be with me, that's why he shut me out! He knew I needed him, John. But he didn't want to be with me, so don't go blaming everything on me."

"Molly, Sherlock might be cold but he's not that cold."

"That's what you think." Molly spat at him, giving him a glare that he tried to avoid.

"Molly, what if I told you that he's here?"

"Right now, at Bart's? Ha! I bet he doesn't even know what happened to me. I bet he doesn't know that his son's dead. I bet he doesn't even know that his child's a boy!"

John just sighed.

It was hopeless. This wasn't Molly anymore. If this was Molly, she would be crying her heart out and asking for Sherlock. She'd try to forgive him, but the person in front of him now is just a shell of the person he knew.

"Molly, can you at least try to talk to him? You need to work this out. You don't need to forgive him right away, but you have to talk to him."

Then he saw it; a glimpse of the old Molly through her eyes.

"I-I will, John. But just not today."

"But why not?"

Molly was starting to get irritated. Why can't he just let her handle the situation? She just lost her child, for God's sake, can't she take a break?! John instantly regretted the words he said once he saw the conflict in Molly's eyes.

"I'm sorry. That was wrong. I know you're going through a lot of things right now, and... I just want you to be happy. You don't deserve this, Molls."

"And millions of women who lost their children don't deserve it too. I'm no different, John. I know these things happen everyday and I just need some time to think... To be alone for a while. Will you do that for me, John? And after that, I swear I'll sort things out."

"Yeah. I know. You need some time to grieve."

"Yeah. You of all people should know that."

They both chuckled.

"Well, I'll be going," John said, patting Molly's shoulder before standing up. "Goodbye, Molly. Just call me when anything turns up." She smiled a response as he left. But that smile soon faded as the door closed. She had practiced it well; smiling. For her, it was only a mask that you need to wear in front of people so they'd know you're alright and leave you alone. Molly just sighed and sank on the hospital bed. She still grieves for her son. He was one of the only chances that a part of Sherlock would love her.

"One way or another, he'll never love me." She muttered as she continued looking out of the window.

10 Days later...

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

"Sherlock!" Came John's voice with that you've-obviously-done-something-wrong-now-fix-it tone. John expected an annoyed 'What is it now?' from Sherlock but it never came. Just the light footsteps and the sound of the locks clicking. The door opened and there he was in his grey shirt and sweatpants with his blue dressing gown. He almost looked normal.

Almost.

There was something off about him.

"Yes?" Was all he said, raising an eyebrow as he did.

"May I come in?" He asked and Sherlock just stepped aside. Once John walked in, the stench of cigarettes and alcohol were hard to ignore.

"So why the late night visit? Its about ten in the evening." He said, sitting on his usual chair, picking up his scotch glass and sipping from it.

"Have you been cooped up in her all week living on cigarettes and alcohol?"

"Problem?"

"Its not good for you."

"Apparently everything I ever do isn't good for me. What's the point?"

"Sherlock, what the bloody hell is going on?" John asked, obviously confused.

"Oh, are you really so stupid, John?" John just scoffed. This was not how he expected this meeting to go.

"Stupid? I wasn't the one who gave all that money to Molly! I was the one who stood beside her, when all this time, it should've been you." Sherlock just sighed and leaned back on his chair, closing his eyes as he did so.

"Why are you here, John? To torment me? Because, if you're here for that, you're doing a marvelous job."

"Its not you."

"Then tell me..." Sherlock said, grabbing a cigarette and placing in between his lips.

"Its Molly. Robert called and he was worried about her. She hasn't been eating well, and she works until early morning."

Sherlock was halfway on lighting his cigarette and he stopped when he heard HER name. It was her. He spent the whole week cooped up in his flat thinking of her. He sighed and put down his cigarette and his lighter.

"Sherlock. Are you okay?"

He just sat there, staring into space. He leaned back and sighed, making his decision.

"Give me a few minutes."

Sherlock and John walked through the corridors of Bart's and it was dead silent.; well, to where they're passing by, at least. Only a few people go to the morgue at night. Its either because they have no business there or they're just creeped out.

But not Molly.

She liked being in the morgue. Not because of the dead people, but because of the peace and silence. No one bothers her except for Mike Stamford and Robert, but she wouldn't exactly call it bothering. That was until she lost her son. She would sit behind her desk and continue with the paperwork of the autopsies she performed that day. No rest. Just work.

This is her way of moving on.

Outside the lab, there stood Sherlock, John and Robert.

"How long has she been like this?" John asked Robert, who appeared to be exhausted. His eyes and cheekbones even becoming more hollow, if possible.

"Tree or four days ago. She goes home early in the morning to fix herself, feed her cat and all. Then she comes back half an hour later to continue working."

"And what has Mike been doing? Doesn't he give her a break?"

"He did. He told her to take the week off but she said she was alright," Robert looked through the glass in the door with sad eyes. "But she's not."

"Tell me, Robert. What exactly is your relationship with Molly?" Sherlock asked, obviously annoyed by his sentimental concern for Molly. But John knew better.

Sherlock was jealous.

"We're close friends. She was the first friend I made when I first applied here. She reminds me of my mother back home."

"Home?" John asked.

"Australian." Sherlock stated.

"Don't think she didn't tell me about you, Mr. Holmes, and if I were to ask anyone to help Molly, the thought of you would never cross my mind. You're anything but help to Molly." Robert spat. His icy blue eyes matching his cold stare, and his lips were pulled to a frown.

Sherlock only smirked.

"We'll see." He said, before pushing the doors open.

Sherlock entered the dim lab. Only a few lights here and there, but it still looked pretty dim. He looked around and he noticed that the lab was more tidier ever since he last set foot in it. And there, he spotted her.

Molly.

She almost looked normal since her head was bowed down and she continued writing. If he didn't know better, he would think that nothing was wrong with her.

But he did.

And despite all his knowledge, he doesn't know how to start a conversation without actually being rude. But for Molly's sake, he'll try.

"Hello, Molly." He said, placing both hands at his back and looked at her. God, she looked beautiful. Why was he such a fool to do those things to her? But alas, no reply. He slowly walked towards her desk, hoping that she'll look up at him.

"How are you?" He simply asked. It was the first thing that popped into his head. But then again, to no avail, Molly didn't answer.

"I take it you're busy then."

"Fuck off." She muttered as she continued scribbling furiously.

"I'm sorry?"

"Fuck off, Sherlock," She said, standing up and arranging the papers. "I just lost a child, about a week ago; MY child. You screw me, you left me, and you gave me tons of cash like I'm some whore and saying that you have nothing to do with this and all you've got to say is 'How are you?'?" Sherlock was frozen on his spot and took a sudden interest on the floor.

This was not going well.

"Molly, I'm sorry," He said, now looking straight into her raging brown eyes. "I really am, Molly."

"Your sorry doesn't change anything. It won't bring my son back and it definitely won't bring me back to you."

"Molly, this isn't good for you. You need to rest."

"Why should you care?"

"Because I lo-" He said, stopping mid sentence. The word forcing its way up from his supposedly non-existent heart, wanting those words to be said, yet it chokes him. "I care about you, Molly." Molly wasn't stupid. She knew what he was supposed to say. The 'L' word. And she almost looked convinced that he really did care for her.

Almost.

Until...

"I love you, Molly."

'No.' Molly thought. 'No. No. No. No. NO! This is not supposed to happen. He doesn't love me. He never will.'

"Well, tough. You lost me on the day you shut me out. I made a mistake, Sherlock. I made a mistake for falling for you. For actually believing you would love me one day. I won't make the same mistake again." She said before collecting her work and brushing past his tall figure and leaving the lab.

And there, Sherlock stood.

Silent.

Still.

Shocked.

It was then, Sherlock felt like everything around him started crumbling down.

So that's it for Chapter 5. Poor Sherlock :( Some of you may think he deserves it, but he's still human, though. A human being who doesn't know a single thing about love. Anyways, please review! What should Molly or Sherlock do? Was it good? Bad? Should I stop writing cuz this story is shit? Let me know. :) Thanks to all the supporters out there! Love ya guys! xoxo

~Gabrielle