Yeah, last chapter is in.
The first thing Molly registered was the beeping. A constant, annoying sound that started to drive her mad. She opened her eyes, but her sight was blurry at first. Everything she saw was white. Before she reclaimed her sight, she got her sense of smell back. The smell of chemicals hit her in the face like a brick. A hospital, then. She noticed a slight pressure on her hand, and turning around, she could make out a dark, lanky form sitting at her bedside, holding her hand. The black the figure wore contrasted greatly with the white of the room. When her sight got better, she saw who exactly the man was.
Sherlock was sitting at Molly's bedside. With his eyes closed and his hand in hers, he went into his mindpalace, just thinking about her. He was shaken out of it by a small noise coming from his side. He opened his eyes and found Molly's big doe eyes looking at him. They just sat there, locking gazes for a moment. The silence was broken by a nurse walking in to check on Molly.
"Ah, miss Hooper, I see you are awake." She chirped cheerfully.
"Obviously, and it's doctor Hooper." Sherlock cut in. His voice was raw. Molly squeezed his hand a little, after which Sherlock relaxed in his chair. He still didn't let go.
The nurse checked on Molly's injury, making sure it wasn't infected or if there were any other complications. After about 10 minutes, Molly and Sherlock were once again left alone.
Molly looked down at their intertwined fingers. She could feel Sherlock's eyes on her. It was silent until Sherlock started speaking slowly.
"I remember." He said. His voice was soft, almost a whisper. Molly looked up to lock eyes with him.
"I am sorry, Molly. You have every right to be upset with me, but please, don't do that again." He lifted their intertwined hands and hold them against his chest. "Don't scare me like that again."
"I-" Molly began, but her throat felt raw, so she motioned to the water. Sherlock picked the glass up and held it in front of her, the straw pointed to her mouth so she could sip some of it. She drank some and shot Sherlock a small, sad smile. He put the glass back and retook a hold of Molly's hand.
"I just can't live like this anymore, Sherlock. I really can't." She said after clearing her throat. Sherlock's eyes were now glazed over with tears, but he wouldn't let them fall, he had to be the strong one now.
"Yes you can, Molly. You are young, pretty and intelligent, you are the top pathologist at St. Barts, how would your life be hard?" He really did not understand.
"Because you keep treating me like I am a bag of dirt. Probably even less than that."
Molly looked at her lap, where her other hand lay. She could almost hear Sherlock think. His eyes were still shining but had now adapted a stern look.
"How could you even think that?" He began. "Of course you are more to me than that!" His voice was louder now, almost yelling.
"Well, you don't show it!" Molly replied, her voice matching his in decibel. "You know how hard it is to see you every day, to work with you even though I love you so much and I know that you will never, never love me back?" The words were out before she could stop. She pulled her hand out of his and planted it in her lap, fidgeting with her other hand.
"Love."Sherlock said. "You- You love me?" He was taken aback. He wasn't lovable. He liked to think John was 'fond' of him, that Lestrade saw him as convenient. But no one loved him. "You don't love me, Molly. Nobody is able to love me."
Molly looked at the Consulting Detective and saw just how vulnerable the man could be. It were these moments that made her fall in love even deeper.
"Yes, we are, Sherlock. John loves you, Lestrade, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson. They all love you." Molly said.
"Really?" Sherlock questioned her, the tears he had hold back for so long finally starting to fall. Molly nodded and took his hand in hers this time.
"Molly, I don't know if I am able to love."Sherlock started, carefully picking his words. "But I do care for you, a great deal. When I remembered, I was so, dare I say it, scared. Scared that I would be too late to save you. And when I found you- I never want to feel like that again." Molly cupped his cheek with her free hand and smiled a little.
"You won't have to, Sherlock. I'm not going anywhere." She said.
"Do you promise that? Please promise me that, Molly." Sherlock insisted, putting his free hand over her smaller one rested on his cheek. Molly nodded and Sherlock let out a breath he didn't knew he was holding.
"I am glad I remembered you, Molly Hooper." Sherlock whispered after a moment. "You were right, without you, I would still be lying in the gutter, getting high and drunk. You saved me."
Molly smiled again. She felt tired, and her eyes began to close. Sherlock, of course, noticed.
"Go to sleep, Molly. I will be here when you awake." He bent forwards to press his lips to her forehead in a gentle kiss. "I promise."
Molly closed her eyes, leaned backwards and was asleep when her head hit the pillow. Sherlock looked at the tiny woman in front of him. Her hand was clutched in his, and he couldn't help but smile. She had saved him so many times, and now it was time to repay the favour and save hers. With this thought in his head, he drifted into a peaceful slumber.
Let me know your thoughts on this.
thank you all for the reviews on the last two chapters, they were lovely.
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