Rising to the surface made everything feel real. The underground training space had seemed different somehow. Molly had gone in unknowingly what would happen there and now they had done something that had changed them.
In part she could blame herself for the kiss. She had been the one to start it but it took two of them to continue doing all of it. A part of her almost wanted to say that her grief made her do stupid things like kiss Sherlock Holmes – the one person she felt understood her. It was this understanding that made her feel shaky now.
What did he think of her now? What had he ever thought about her?
She hadn't the foggiest clue but as he held her hand as they exited the lift that had brought them back to the real world, she felt a quake in her.
He looked at her for the briefest of moments before he tugged her down the hallway down another set of doors to a room that she knew she wasn't allowed. His bedroom.
Once the door was shut Molly looked up at him with a wariness that only came with secrets like this.
"It's fine." He muttered as if reading her mind.
He gently turned her around and guided her over to the bed where he plopped down, spreading his long body down on it as if he had the worst day imaginable happen to him. Molly didn't know if that was true but in some light it could have been.
He had gone searching for her in the rain thinking that something had happened to her. Nothing as tragic as what he could have been thinking during those hours of wandering on his part, but she hadn't been the same person that he had met. She had been frail and sad and upset. She was still all of those things in some part, she felt.
Even so she didn't know how to continue with this. What was she supposed to do here? In his room. In the bubble of emotions and feelings that were just supposed to be there.
A kiss meant something. It meant something to her. It meant something to him but her thoughts couldn't stay in this happy place because she knew that it couldn't stay that way forever no matter how much she wished it could. If she could surround herself in that moment for months it would make this easier.
None of this felt simple.
Molly just stood there at the edge of the bed looking past Sherlock.
It was too much.
Sherlock frowned, sitting up and reaching for her hand. He wanted to know what all rattled her brain. He knew it wasn't as simple as her father dying. That was tragic. That was grief; something he could deal with. He had experienced loss on some level before. That was manageable. However, this felt much more than that.
"Do you want to take it back?" He voiced, breaking through her wall for a millisecond as her head yanked down to him as he sat with her hand held with such care in his own.
She shook her head. "No…" Her voice was so raw and emotional. He smoothed his hand over hers softly to try to get her to simmer down a little. There was so much bubbling there in the surface of her movements and her eyes. He just wanted to make it alright for just a moment.
"Lay with me." He suggested softly. He made no move to pull her forward onto the bed. He just spoke it aloud to put it out in the open. She could have stayed right there if that was what kept her in the sound place that she was searching for right now.
The nod came before he had time to assess the situation any more than that.
He let her make the next move, wanting her to do what she was most comfortable with.
Molly looked at Sherlock as she moved to twist around so that she still had his hand but was sitting on the end of the bed with him. She liked the feel of his hands. They were rough from years of boxing. Cuts and old wounds healed over by her touch and some she knew he fixed himself were under her hand now. There was something else there though, a different sort of edge. It wasn't hurting her but it made her wonder what else he could possibly do with his hands. What else did he make with them?
She wanted to ask him about it.
She didn't think now was the time.
Instead she pressed her face into his shoulder took in a deep breath (inhaling in his scent) and closing her eyes. She just wanted to sit here for a little while.
It wasn't the most ideal way to sit. Sherlock's hand wedged in between the two of them while she had her head against his shoulder. It would do though. It's what she needed.
At some point in the hours that Molly stayed in Sherlock's room they had slowly dipped down into the bed into a laying down position. He didn't say much but he was there and that was something that she needed. She hadn't known it at first.
Directing her attention to the rain scene where she was on a bench and he had run up to her and asked her why she was sitting there like that.
This moment in time she would remember all that he had done for her on this night. From getting her out of the rain to sneaking her down to his lair (secret boxing area) and then to his room while no one was around to see them. It was much more than those things.
She could forget about the kiss a moment. Relishing in the comfort of his warm body that she was pressed up against as she rested her eyes until a knock came at the door.
Molly's initial instinct was to jump away from Sherlock and perhaps roll under the bed so that whoever was there wouldn't see her there though the indentation of her body once being next to Sherlock's would be blatantly apparent. Sherlock had changed his mind about giving her a choice on the matter when Michael popped his head in the door.
"You found her." He stated as he slipped in and shut the door.
Sherlock merely nodded and tightened his hold on the girl in question who was both confused by the nonchalant attitude that the bodyguard was giving her and Sherlock's insistence that she stay right where she was.
She decided to deal with one of them at a time and slowly pushed herself into a sitting position which in turn altogether erased the Sherlock holding her so tightly part of the equation. She heard him sigh as she addressed Michael.
"Were you searching for me too?"
Michael brushed a hand down his face as he stared at Molly. There wasn't anything wrong with the girl but this situation had begun to get out of hand. He nodded in her direction as he looked at Sherlock, frowning deeply.
"I assume you want breakfast up here, Sherlock?" He asked. He didn't stay long to get a real answer from him, merely exited.
Molly turned to Sherlock who was running his hands through his curls. "What?" He asked noticing that she was staring.
She shrugged. "Do you often get breakfast in your room?" She smiled softly at him.
It was with that small glimmer that he popped up. "No. I don't eat some mornings or…days."
Molly rolled her eyes at that. He wasn't much for taking care of himself unless someone was helping him do it. In a way she thought it was good that both Michael and she herself were there to look after him. She didn't question who would do the same for her. She had done just fine on her own without a Sherlock. She had her dad. Had.
It took one line of thought for her to remember that he wasn't there anymore. She wasn't alone truly. She had Martha and the kids, she had Sherlock, and Michael even though she wasn't sure how he felt about her now that he found her this morning in Sherlock's bedroom, she did have her mother. She had people who cared about her but the one person who mattered she couldn't talk to anymore and that hurt more than anything else.
Sherlock saw the way her face dropped and was quick to rush over to his closet and grab a few items of clothes. He threw a shirt at her head nearly mirroring the way he tossed the clothes last night when they were in the ring. She laughed at him.
"Really? You couldn't have given me any warning?"
"Where's the fun in that?" His voice sounded muffled.
Molly could hear the sound of him doing something from the other side of the room but because of the particular noise that a belt made she decided to stay hidden behind the shirt he had chucked at her. No reason to make this more awkward so early in the morning.
She was already red in the face from the imagery alone.
It reminded her of the day that he had proposition that she come work for him. She couldn't say that she had gotten the job she signed up for but she had gotten something increasingly better. She was working her way to what she wanted to do and it was never dull. She couldn't complain too much. The fact that she hadn't complained was something she imagined was torture for some people that she wouldn't dare name. It was in her nature to go with things and hope that something better would come along.
It hadn't steered her into a bad place as of yet.
She chose to ignore anything that would seem ill willed in any light. Focusing on the light and happy moments brought her more energy and focus.
"I can close my eyes if you want to change without prying eyes." Sherlock once again pulling her back to where he was.
It was starting to make him laugh the way she would zone off like that. It was expected that he was the type to do that when he didn't like someone or care for what they were saying. In this case he was concerned about Molly Hooper and he would do anything to see her smile. That was his job in her life today and many days to come. He had made it so, not that she knew that yet.
She pulled at the article of clothing that was shielding him from her sight and she grinned at him, giggling a little.
"Would you?"
"The lady asks, so it shall be." He winked, turning around and covering his eyes with his hand.
Molly trusted him but she still waited a few moments before slipping the tank that she had been wearing over her head in place of the button up that if she had a belt could been seen as a dress on her. A very high quality dress. She kept the shorts on for appearances and her own sanity.
She started to tell him that she was done but once again a knock came at the door. Sherlock went to answer it while Molly combed a hand through her hair unsure who to expect was visiting now. Was it Michael again? Or someone else?
The sigh of relief that left her lips could be heard audibly as Martha Hudson came in tow with her daughter Lilith. The girl seeming to forget her manners or saying hello to Sherlock as he opened the door rushed towards Molly and circled her arms around her neck hugging her. "I told my idiot brother you were okay. I'm so happy you're okay."
Molly looked shaken a bit by the contact. Lilith never outright touched Molly which confused her now seeing as she had practically ran over to the bed to attack her in a hug. "Y-yes I'm fine. Tell Max not to worry." She patted the girl's hair softly before she took a step back and straightened up as if that hadn't happened at all.
Martha smiled happily at the display. "I bought you a pair of your clothes in case you wanted to change. Didn't know what you two were up to up here but Michael was very discreet about saying such a thing. Smart man." She chuckled before she moved over to the desk that Molly hadn't even looked at properly since coming into the room the night before and sitting the tray of things down on it.
"I hope you enjoy the food, dears." With that Martha and Lilith exited the room.
"This is the most visitors I've gotten up here in years."
He kept saying things that made Molly want to inquire about his life before this. She decided that maybe she could learn a little bit this morning as they ate breakfast. It wasn't a bad topic of conversation. It was the perfect start to stabilize whatever this was supposed to be now. Molly and Sherlock, once a medic and boxer…now what were they? Where were they going?
"Shall we eat then?" She mumbled as she slipped from off the bed so that she could stretch.
He nodded, liking that idea. He lifted the tray up. "We shall."