Give His Heart a Break.
Authors Note: I'm just feeling incredibly inspired right now. I'm dying for you to all see my plan unfold. Before I start writing this next chapter, I feel like setting out a competition to you all. The prize of this competition will be a hint to what one of my future chapters is going to be about. The chapter I'm feeling to give this hint about is the final one! ;D
If you wish to enter this competition, what you must do is review, PM or tweet me your theories on where my story is going. The one with what the idea I like the most will get to know my hint. Your answer might not be the actual ending. So, you can make it funny or serious. I just want to see your thoughts. :)
Disclaimer: I still don't own.
Chapter Nine: Can I Make It Better?
One month passed.
Sherlock was fine.
He wasn't missing John.
Sherlock missed no one.
Sherlock didn't miss talking to Molly.
No.
Sherlock was fine.
He had to be fine.
He was determined to stay fine.
Two months passed.
Molly was exchanging pleasantries with him again.
She wasn't opening up to him though.
She wasn't being friendly anymore.
Sherlock hadn't heard a word from John.
He hadn't expected John to stay mad at him for so long.
He thought they would have been fine after a week or so.
He didn't understand why John wasn't speaking to him still.
He asked Molly if she had heard from John the other day.
She'd stared at him; her eyes had turned glass-like.
She'd got up from the couch and went to her bedroom.
She didn't speak to him for another week.
Three months passed.
Things were starting to get back to normal with Molly and him.
She was beginning to forgive him for what he had done.
Finally.
He had missed her.
He'd felt rather… alone.
That was something he didn't freely admit to.
He'd clarified that it was safe now.
Sherlock Holmes made his way back in to the spotlight.
The press welcomed him back with open arms.
He was a 'hero' again.
It's a shame his best friend didn't think so.
But, it was ok.
Lestrade was throwing cases at him again.
He'd handled them on his own before.
It was no different now.
He did miss John's pathetic blog titles though…
Four months passed.
He'd seen John in the street the other day.
John had simply stilled for a few moments and then nodded curtly to him.
That was… an improvement?
Or so Sherlock hoped.
Molly was becoming unbearable to live with.
She was always so… upset.
For the life of him, he couldn't understand why.
It was frustrating.
She seemed to have spiralled back down since last month.
It was confusing.
Finally, the fifth month passed.
Sherlock had had enough.
Molly was still mopping around her flat most days.
She barely went in to work.
Bart's was starting to get pissed off now.
They'd even set her a letter.
John still hadn't contacted Sherlock.
Sherlock really didn't get it.
This was outrageous now.
It had been five months!
What he had done hadn't been that bad.
He sighed and ran a hand over his face.
Sherlock Holmes was bored.
London was so calm.
London was so peaceful.
Where on earth were on the criminals and psycho's?
Did they not know how bored he was?
He looked towards Molly from where he was sat on his chair in her living room.
He began to study her appearance.
She had been beautiful the last time he had seen her like this.
Now?
Now she looked an absolute mess.
Her hair was greasy.
She hadn't showered for three days.
There were dark circles beneath her eyes.
Her lips were dry.
Her figure was looking thin.
The pyjama's that had once fitted her body perfectly now hung off her frame in a disturbing way.
How had he been missing this?
He knew why.
He'd been so wrapped up in an exciting case Lestrade had thrown his way, he'd forgotten all about Molly.
He sighed.
That wasn't how you were supposed to be with someone you cared about.
Even Sherlock knew that.
He stood up and moved to sit beside her on the couch.
She jumped from her thoughts and looked at him with a quizzical brow.
"Sherlock?"
"How much alcohol have you consumed in the last two days, Molly?"
He knew she wasn't drunk.
But her breath smelt stale of the awful cheap wine she had brought from Tesco's.
She'd done quite a good job at covering up what she had been doing while he was away but she'd left three minute wine stains on the coffee table. She must have had quite a bit to drink to have missed the glass. Molly was all about precision; she was pathologist after all. She was nothing but through with her analysis of cause of death.
She looked down at her hands.
"About five bottles." She murmured.
He nodded.
He showed no emotions.
In this moment, he didn't want her to think he was judging her.
"Why, Molly?"
The gentleness of his voice shocked her and she looked up, unsure of if it was really Sherlock Holmes in front of her.
It was.
He looked the same as always; devastatingly good looks, immaculate dress, and a brain the size of the world they inhabited.
Molly looked away from him as she answered and just barely whispered her words.
"I miss John."
Sherlock's chest hurt.
He knew the feeling.
He wasn't one to admit this often.
Although in the past couple months, it wouldn't seem that way.
But he was really starting to miss his best friend.
It wasn't as if John thought him dead this time.
It was more like John wished he was dead.
It hurt.
He just wanted everything to go back the way it was before.
Before he did the ridiculous thing and jumped.
His mind zoned back in to focusing on Molly and he sighed.
"I know you do, Molly."
Wasn't that the kind of thing you were supposed to say in these situations?
"I wish I could blame you, Sherlock. But, I knew. I knew I was with John and yet I still let you do everything you wanted us to do."
She let out a heavy sigh and looked up at him.
"I gave in to some petty fantasy and I've no idea why."
She looked away, tears in her eyes.
Sherlock said nothing.
He just allowed her to collect herself.
She looked back towards him with fierceness in her eyes; fierceness he had never believed Molly Hooper capable off.
"I loved him, Sherlock."
Sherlock wasn't sure why, but his chest tightened.
He almost couldn't breathe.
Only almost.
"You did?"
Molly wasn't looking at him anymore.
She was staring at one of the walls.
He assumed she was in a memory of her and John.
"I did." She stated, not truly there.
He moved in closer to her.
"You know I understand, right Molly?"
Her eyes snapped to his.
Her pulse began to quicken.
Why was he so close to her?
"You do?"
She didn't think he did.
He wasn't in love with John.
John hadn't told him he hated him.
John hadn't told him that he never wanted to see him again.
Sherlock Holmes was wrong.
He didn't understand what she was feeling.
Sherlock nodded his head.
"I've lost my one and only friend, Molly."
Molly would have been hurt by the fact Sherlock didn't class her as a friend but she felt too numb to be hurt over something so stupid.
"At least you can get him back, Sherlock."
Molly's voice was broken.
Her eyes were tearing and she was staring in to Sherlock's.
He felt the ever present need to take her in his arms.
He refrained.
"John didn't mean what he said to you, Molly."
She sniffled.
"How do you know that?"
Tears began to fall.
"I know John."
He lifted a finger to wipe one of her tears away.
He hadn't even noticed he'd done it.
She stilled.
His finger was still on her cheek.
Her eyes never left his.
Her tears had already stopped falling.
His finger began to stroke her cheek in a soft, circular motion.
His eyes locked on hers.
Subconsciously, they were both leaning in like before.
Neither one could process a single thought.
All they could do was let their bodies take over.
Molly's eyes fluttered shut.
Sherlock's continued watching her.
They were mere inches apart.
They were still moving.
Deep down, they both knew there was no going back.
There was no going back even if John walked through Molly's flat door again.
But that didn't happen.
Nothing happened.
Nothing happened to interrupt Sherlock Holmes' lips connecting with Molly Hooper's in the lightest kiss either had ever experienced.
Authors Note: Wahey! They kissed! Finally or what! It's sort of sad though. I won't lie. I had fun writing this chapter. I really did! I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know?
By the way, I forgot! The closing date for my competition is going to be tomorrow at one (UK time). one in the afternoon by the way. If I don't get home from Sixthform early tomorrow I will be home at one and therefore I'll be able to judge. If you want to enter on twitter and don't know my name its eccentricpetal. I hope I get some entries! Good luck to anyone who does enter!
Petal.