Chapter 12

Sorry for the wait I've just been… well procrastinating a lot! But here is finally another chapter. Hope you enjoy it, and thank you for your always fantastic reviews. I love to hear about what you think!

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« What happened… how did I get here? »

"I'm sorry darling. I had to give you something to calm you down. It's alright now, you're in your flat, in your own bed."

Molly looked around her, she was indeed in her bedroom. And Helen the nurse was at her bedside. Her head hurt like hell and she knew something was terribly wrong. Suddenly she remembered what had happened at the hospital and the blackout that had followed. A wave of anger washed over her.

"He left me… he sent me away right? He treated me like a dog! How could he do that to me? I hate him… him and his brother. I hate him, I hate him!"

"You love him. Which is the same in many ways."

"He used me. Like all the other men I knew before him. I was just a distraction for him, that's all. Now he doesn't need me anymore so he's sending me away."

She buried her face in her pillow and started to cry.

Helen gently ran her fingers through her hair. "Molly… shh Molly listen to me. I'm an old woman. I have a long experience of life and I can tell when I see two people falling in love. I don't think Sherlock used you. I spent a lot of time with him too, you know. Especially during my night shifts. People are different at night, they are more likely to… open up. I saw him crying a couple of times. I had some interesting conversations with him as well."

Molly looked up to Helen, tears still running down her cheeks.

"Yes", continued the nurse, "we even spoke about you sometimes."

"What did he say?"

"He told me you saved his life. I think… he was asking himself a lot of questions. About his life once he would leave the hospital, about your relationship…"

"Then he should have talked to me!"

"Look, I don't know if it has anything to do with it but his brother came to talk to him this morning. I came in for Sherlock's morning care but Mycroft asked me to come back later because they were having a private conversation."

"What time was it?"

"I don't know… about 10 AM."

"He came to see me too earlier this morning. He had found out about Sherlock and I yesterday and he asked me to end our relationship. I refused…"

"… And right after he went to talk to Sherlock", finished Helen.

Molly nodded. "I was hoping he would stand up for me. It's just so weird he… never listens to his brother. Actually he would do anything just to prove him wrong. But this time… it only took a few words from Mycroft to delete everything we shared. I don't know what to do Helen. I'm not even allowed to see him anymore! I gave up everything for him, I thought he had changed, I though… we could be happy together and now…"

She collapsed once again into heavy sobs.

"I know it hurts darling, I know", whispered Helen, "but don't lose hope".

"There's no hope anymore".

"There's always hope. You're alive, you're in good health. Every day I see people at the hospital who have all reasons to lose hope. But they don't give up. You're still young…"

"I'm 33…"

"That's what I said. You're a pretty young woman with a kind heart and a good mind. If Sherlock cannot see that then he doesn't deserve you and you can find better than him."

"I don't want anyone else."

"I thought you hated him?"

"I don't know what I want anymore…"

"I think you need some rest. I fed your cat and I left some food for you in the fridge. I'll come back to see you tomorrow, please take care of yourself. Here is my number, call me if you need anything."

"Thank you Helen, you're a saint. I don't know what to say… You'll probably get in trouble for helping me. I already feel so sorry for that poor Sergeant Doyle"

"Oh don't worry dear, I resigned from the hospital this morning. And I gave a piece of my mind to Mr Mycroft Holmes. I had been wanting to do so for a while. »

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Helen came back to see Molly every day the following week, bringing her some food, trying to persuade her to go out for a walk. In a way it wasn't much different than her work at the hospital. She knew that broken hearts were hard to cure, and Molly Hooper's one had been broken into a million pieces.

She would stay in bed most of the day, crying or watching some stupid shows on TV. She couldn't help thinking over and over again about it. For sure, something must have happened between the moment she left Sherlock after their night together and their last encounter. Was it really Mycroft's words which made him change his mind? Or maybe something she could have said or done? The more she was trying to find an answer, the more she was getting lost.

A few times she considered getting revenge. She could contact the press and tell them the whole story. How Sherlock had faked his death with her help and was hiding somewhere. But it would put him in danger and she couldn't bring herself to do it.

On other days she would go back close to the hospital and try to look into the park to see if she could see him. But she never did. The trees had lost their leaves and the summer days when they shared their first kisses seemed long gone.

She knew she had to do something otherwise she would fall into depression. She remembered her father's motto: "the only place to go when you hit rock bottom is up". In the past, she had always found the strength to move on. But this time it was different, her life was devastated. She had resigned from Bart's and left her flat. Everybody believed her to be in Brighton, and Sherlock had been officially dead for four months.

Maybe she should indeed leave London, or even England, and start looking for another pathologist position. But she didn't feel ready for it, like if she was still waiting for some kind of miracle to happen. Mycroft had kept his words. He let her stay in the flat and the money was still paid into her bank account every month. She didn't like to depend on him but it was her only option for the moment.

One day she saw an ad in the local newspaper about a cat shelter looking for some volunteers. She decided to apply and started to work there a few hours per week. It wasn't much but at least it forced her to get out of bed and have some sort of social interaction, even if she preferred the company of animals rather than people. There was no doubt she would soon turn into one of those crazy cat ladies.

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Time passed and softened the pain. On the sixth month anniversary of Sherlock's death, she gave a call to Mrs Hudson. She learnt that John had taken a job at a GP practice in Kensington and Lestrade had been reintegrated into the Yard after an internal investigation. Life was going on.

She often wondered about Sherlock. Where was he now and what was he up to? She knew he was supposed to go a rehabilitation center after leaving the hospital. Did he miss her? Did he ever think of her? Or had he deleted her completely?

She received the answer one day of November as she came back from the grocery store. She opened her mailbox. It was generally filled only with commercials as nobody had her address. But this time there was a letter, or rather a postcard. She dropped her shopping bags to the floor, and took the card to examine it.

It was from Meiringen, Switzerland, and had only one word written on the back:

"Bored".