Priorities.
Sherlock had figured out before the end of that first day with Daniel that his priorities were going to have to shift and change to fit his nephew's needs above his own – and, just like everything in this new situation he found himself in, that had been hard at first. Only, he'd woken up one morning to realize that for the first time since coming to London, poor Daniel – who had been having a rough time adjusting – had actually slept throughout the entire night. Funny the things a floundering man could find hope in. Then, when he took time to actually think about it, he realized that he really wasn't floundering too terribly much anymore, thanks to the predicted help of the Watsons, Mrs. Hudson, and – the biggest constant of all at Sherlock's side throughout this – Molly.
And as time continued to go on, in the rare moments when he would slow down enough to think it through, he realized that it was only getting better. Daniel was getting better adjusted – as was Sherlock to caring for him, for that matter – and then there was that little niggling matter of Molly…
Of an evening, after he had put Daniel to bed, once the flat was quiet for the night, he took out his violin and considered her while he stared out the window and played his instrument.
Molly, who had become a million things more than the pathologist. Molly, who truly had become his closest confidant and partner in caring for Daniel – his sanity and his strength and his breath of fresh air whenever he felt he was about to suffocate. Molly, who helped him make sense of one of the few things in the world that still managed to baffle him – human emotions and caring. Molly… for whom he now cared very deeply.
Sherlock almost dropped his violin as that last thought hit him. Where on earth had that even come from?!
Of course, he reasoned silently, he had long been friendly towards Molly Hooper – since his return anyway – and, yes, she held a special place in his heart – but so did John, Mary, and Mrs. Hudson, in their own ways! So what if John seemed to think that Sherlock was "in love" with Molly Hooper, that didn't mean John had to be right, did it? Certainly not!
But did it have to mean that John was wrong….?
Sherlock settled his violin carefully back against his chin and resumed playing, his mind a thousand miles away from the music as he thought this through. No, John didn't have to be wrong, but he didn't have to be right either. So which was he? What was the evidence gathered from both sides of that argument, and to what did that evidence truly point?
Was he in love with Molly Hooper, or wasn't he?
The more he thought, the more memories he came up with. Molly asking him out on coffee all those years ago (oh, yes, he'd known what she was doing); Molly reaching out to him so many times; Molly calling his bluff when Moriarty came around the first time; Molly helping him fake his death and ease back into life here after his resurgence. Molly making him apologize – on more than one occasion. The fact that Molly made him willing to apologize on his own and without prompting.
She brought out the best in him; she'd always been there for him – perhaps recently more than ever before – and he suddenly realized that he couldn't have done it without Molly. He couldn't have survived Moriarty, and he certainly couldn't have survived having a child in his flat – to say nothing of how quickly Daniel might have perished without her endlessly present, ever-helpful assistance. Daniel absolutely loved her. And maybe... just maybe… so did Sherlock.
This admittance – even just in his own mind – plunged Sherlock into a new level of concentration as he tried to decipher what exactly to think of the idea. When on earth had he gone and fallen in love with Molly Hooper to the point that he – he could admit it – needed her and couldn't even imagine his life without her?
The first thing that came to mind was when she'd helped him fake his death, and when he thought he realized that was when things had started; when the first signs had appeared. Those were the things John had picked up on and Sherlock had largely ignored – at least until now. Now the thought of depending on her that much – realizing that he already did depend on her that much – left him half terrified and half exhilarated. And he wanted to do something about it.
Without even thinking about the late hour, he whipped out his phone and texted her: Can you come over?
Within sixty seconds he received the reply: Something wrong with Daniel?
Sherlock typed a reply, took a deep breath, and hit send. He's sleeping; I want to talk.
Everything okay?
I'd rather discuss it face to face.
Be there in twenty minutes.
Sherlock smiled, shoving his phone back in his pocket and returning to playing his violin. His ever-faithful Molly was going to be here in twenty minutes… and then what? Then he would…? Sherlock inhaled deeply settling his resolve as he decided. He would declare his love for her and let her do with it whatever she would. There was little else he could do.
And he didn't know what he would do if she rebuffed him! He had never actually thought to consider Molly as a family member of his. In his mind, Mrs. Hudson was a maternal figure, John and Mary had become something of surrogate siblings, and Mycroft was still… just Mycroft. Unlike the people Sherlock had chosen to be in his life, Mycroft hadn't made any attempts at helping with Daniel, and neither had his and Mycroft's parents, come to think of it. He had come to rely on the Watsons, Mrs. Hudson, and Molly – hugely so. Those four people were the members of what he considered to be his real family.
So he was starting to think that it was time to label Molly as being somewhere in that family as well. Maybe… girlfriend?
One year later; Mother's Day
"Molly?" Sherlock called out as he stepped into his flat with Daniel. "We're home!" Molly appeared from down the hall as Sherlock added, "Daniel and I got something for you while we were out."
"Oh?" Molly asked curiously, a small smile lighting her face as she pecked Sherlock on the lips before asking, "And what's that?"
Sherlock knelt down beside Daniel and whispered in the little boy's ear, "Can you show Aunt Molly what we got her?"
Daniel beamed and eagerly tugged the small gift-wrapped box out of his pocket, handing it to the woman in question. Sherlock stayed down on one knee, an arm wrapped around Daniel as Molly unwrapped the gift.
Seeing the black velvet ring box that soon lay uncovered in her hands, Molly froze, looking to Sherlock with wide eyes as she murmured his name with hopeful shock.
Daniel burst out with the line that Sherlock had told him to repeat upon seeing Molly, "Will you marry us, Aunt Molly?"
Sherlock's nephew had no idea what the word's actually meant, but his girlfriend had every idea, and she burst into tears – tears Sherlock could now realize as joyful ones – as she shook her head emphatically. "Yes! Absolutely!"
Sherlock jumped onto his feet and took her face in his hands, kissing her soundly before he wrapped one arm around her and scooped Daniel into the other, just taking them in with blissful happiness. These two people before him were his family indeed.
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