Ugh... Stupid Sherlock making me break Molly's heart again last chapter. If I didn't love him so much, I would honestly hate him right now. But anyway. Thanks for reading! Would love to hear what you have to say.
DIsclaimer: This has been disclaimed.
Chapter 13
It took 3 days for Sherlock to work up the courage to show up at the morgue. John had insisted that he go alone, and the prospect of facing Molly without his blogger and expert on sentiment to guide him was daunting to say the least. Sherlock didn't quite know what to do.
He had decided that he would go under the premise of checking on one of his experiments, and hopefully at some point during their day together, things would just fall into place. He would tell Molly about the changes in how he felt, and she tell him that she reciprocated said feelings, and there would be a kiss or two before everything became what it should always have been- He and Molly, together.
It wasn't his best plan, nor did he think it would work. The odds were stacked against him, with 68% of the plausible outcomes he could envision ending negatively for him. She was, after all, engaged to another person, whom she loved, and he treated her far better than Sherlock ever could. Add into that the way that he had treated her in the past, and his prospects looked even bleaker. But in John's ever so eloquent words, if there was a snowman's shot in hell of his winning the pathologist, he damn well better give it his all. Apparently, that was part of what being in love means.
He entered the morgue, rehearsing the rules of courtship as John had explained them to him in his mind. He had planned to compliment her as soon as he walked in, possibly about her hair or her choice of lipstick. John had stressed the importance of the compliment being sincere, so he would just have to wait and see with that one.
He walked up to his pathologist, who was standing over a 37 year old male, performing his autopsy. A heart attack obviously. So dull. He took a deep breath, and plunged into "the plan".
"Ah, Molly, beautiful morning for an autopsy, isn't it? You look…" He stopped as she turned around. Molly looked terrible. Tear stains had streaked her makeup, and mascara was running down her cheeks. Her hair was disheveled and her clothes wrinkled. But the overwhelming sadness in her eyes was what caught Sherlock's attention most. She looked… broken.
"Sherlock, you can stop there with the fake compliments. Honestly, aren't we past all that? Or did you forget that we are actually friends here? Friends don't lie to each other just to get what they want. You can have anything you want, just stop it with the compliments, all right?"
He just nodded, too shocked to respond immediately. Aside from the obvious tears she was trying to hold back, there was something different about her that he couldn't quite figure out. Then he seemed to collect himself enough to realize she was probably wondering why he was there. "Experiments." She nodded, and helped him pull out the materials he had been using to test red blood cell decay in varying conditions over time.
They worked in silence for a few hours, Sherlock too nervous to say anything, and Molly too upset to care. It wasn't until he saw her wash up to leave for lunch that he realized what was different about her- she wasn't wearing her engagement ring. Sherlock got up and left, not even saying goodbye. He had some research to do.