Reconciliation — Chapter 11: Room no 24 : The second patient

When Sherlock left London, John and his identity behind, so did Molly. But destiny can be cruel at times, throwing things from your past at you when you'd rather make a fresh start. Eventual Sherlolly, Post Reichenbach. Please read and review!

The moment Dr. Drew left them alone, she rushed into his arms and enveloped him in an embrace so intense that he actually staggered backwards. She didn't care in the least. It felt so relieving to see a familiar face after what felt like ages. After the last few weeks, being in his arms felt like heaven. It was absurd, meeting under a circumstance where neither of them were themselves for the world but being in his arms felt like coming home. His papers said he was Arthur Vernet and it was amazing how easily he had slipped into the personality of a war survivor. The traces of Sherlock Holmes were still visible, but that was only because she knew him so well. 'It's nice to see you too, Molly but I'm afraid I don't share the spontaneous urge to rugby tackle you to the floor' he said and she choked back a sob. That voice, she had missed it so much! At the moment, she wouldn't have cared even if he would have spewed insults at her, about how the blue eyes and black hair didn't suit her at all, how unhealthy she looked or how the clothes she wore made her look more like a hippie and less like a doctor. Warm, steady relief was coursing through her veins. He was alive, he was here, meaning that his work was finally done! 'Oh Sherlock!' she cried before burying herself into his arms once again. His hesitance was evident as he stiffened involuntarily before relaxing and patting her on the back awkwardly. 'So, you're my new patient, eh?' she asked in a teasing voice before noticing the solemn expression on his face. It was just like a few days before the fall. You look sad when you think he can't see you. Dr. Drew wasn't right was he? 'Sherlock, what's the matter? Why are you really here?' she asked softly. It was only then that he really looked at her and she realised how much he had changed apart from the obvious. He had always been a lean person but now he looked even thinner than before. It was only the presence of the large gold rimmed glasses that had prevented her from noticing how unusually prominent his cheekbones appeared. his alabaster skin had always looked healthy even in the dim lights of the morgue, but now, it was obvious that he hadn't had even a glimpse of the sun in a very long time. 'I- Yes. The work is done. The network has been destroyed, bit by bit and all h-his men are behind bars. But I'm not here just to take you home, Molly' he said and his voice broke a little at the last word and she gasped. 'Dr. Drew was right? You are suffering from Neurasthenia and Acute mania?' she exclaimed. He shook his head slightly. 'N-not the acute mania' he said quietly. Tears stung her eyes as she took in the once brisk, stern and bright detective. How had this happened? How on earth had he been reduced to a stammering mess of a man who couldn't even tie his shoelaces? What on earth had happened to the man who spoke boldly and confidently at the speed of light, with a vocabulary that would make the best authors jealous? 'How?' she asked weakly. He laughed then, a harsh humourless laugh that made her break on the inside. 'Let's just say that abstaining from human company for almost a year and having nothing to do except disassemble a huge criminal network, with no resources except a stable internet connection and then being imprisoned and tortured by the same criminal network does very little for a man's mental health.' It was then that the tears finally flowed down his pale face and before she knew it, he was sobbing into her arms just like that fateful night when he had jumped off the rooftop. Honestly, she should have known that this would happen. How was she foolish enough to imagine that jumping from a rooftop, bidding farewell to one's own identity, being dead for everyone who he cared about wouldn't affect him just becasue he claimed that he didn't do sentiment? She rubbed soothing circles on his back and led him to the bed where he finally sat down, staring at his hands, which lay in his lap. 'How's J-John?' he finally asked, once he had calmed down enough to speak clearly. For a moment, she was lost for words. Would the news of John's upcoming marriage break him further? For, if there was one thing she was certain of , it was that Sherlock had managed to bring down the huge web of criminals only because he had his old life with John to look forward to, when he finally returned to Baker street. How would he react to the fact that John wasn't going to be his roommate anymore? Deciding that the bare truth was better than sugar coated lies, she decided to drop the bomb. 'John's fine. He's getting married' she said slowly. When he said nothing, she feared that she had shattered his only remaining hope of resuming his existence at 221B with John by his side. But when he spoke, she felt her heart break all over again. 'Good, good. T-that's good. He's moving on. He doens't know anything after all. He won't be living at 221B when I- if I return to London. He doesn't need me now' he muttered, more to himself than to her but she had heard. There were so many things that he needed to know, the most important being that Jim was alive, followed by the fact that Sebastian Moran was still determined to get to Jim. About her feelings towards Jim, she wasn't sure if he needed to know. She would never be able to tell him anyway. 'Would you like to go for a walk?' There's so much to talk about, so much we need to share' she asked meekly, relieved when he didn't protest but merely nodded and put on his shoes, which she noted miserably, were slip ons. No laces.

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