Reconciliation — Chapter 12: Faint

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!

I can't feel The way I did before Don't turn your back on me I won't be ignored As they strolled in the garden, she gently took his trembling hand. He said nothing, but gave her a tight lipped smile. She was happy to see that he could at least walk properly, without stumbling even once. True, his gait was not the same as before, when he used to barge into the morgue with John at his heels, but at least it was steady. Neurasthenia could do funny things to people and it was a relief that his was a mild case. Nothing that a bit of therapy wouldn't cure. Half an hour passed without either of them speaking a single word. Finally, when she could stand the silence no longer, she stopped in her tracks, about to tell him everything about Jim being alive and Sebastian Moran still trying to reach him, when a loud rumble broke the silence. They both looked up at the darkening sky, only to catch sight of a few raindrops falling before it started pouring. The huge drops pelted her skin as she grabbed his hand and they both ran to the nearest shelter, namely the empty shed that sometimes served as a hangout for interns and residents. 'Well, that was sudden' he said, shrugging and running a hand through his wet ginger curls. She couldn't help but stare at him. The colour looked so strange, so wrong and so very different from his natural ebony hair. How long would it be before he could go back to being Sherlock? How long would Arthur Vernet have to undergo treatment at her hands? How long would it be before John would find out that his best friend had never died for real? 'Molly, you're staring' he said quietly and she looked away at once turning her back to him. Every time he caught someone staring at him, the person's deepest secrets would tumble from his mouth and in no time, the person who made the mistake of resting their eyes on the world's only consulting detective would be running in the opposite direction as fast as their legs would carry them. She had been at the receiving end of his all-seeing gaze too many times, an experience she really didn't want to revisit. Sure enough, he started off with his deductions but she interrupted him. 'Wait. Before you say anything, there are things that I need to tell you. Things that you probably have no idea about, since you left me with no means to contact either you or Mycroft. she said, her back still turned, not wanting to look him in the eye while blurting out the facts tat would probably send him reeling backwards in shock. 'What is it?' he said cautiously. Her eyes fluttered shut and she took a deep breath before speaking, telling him everything about Jim Moriarty being alive, admitted in the same hospital for more than five months, losing his memories, Sebastian Moran sending him the gun and finally, the abrupt disappearance of the patient, conveniently leaving out details about the concert and what had happened afterwards. She expected him to yell, to shout, to be shell shocked but instead, he said nothing. Unwillingly, she opened her eyes, expecting him to be stunned into silence, furious with rage or shaking with anger. Anything but the sheepish expression that adorned his features and positively reeked of guilt. Realisation hit her like a slap across the face. He knew. He had probably always known. 'You knew?' she whispered, too many emotions swirling within her. Confusion, disbelief, shock, relief and to a certain extent, uninhibited rage. Her face betrayed nothing though. She was becoming more and more used to hiding her emotions in front of people. Her face was an absolute mask, giving no hint of the turbulence coursing through her veins. All she wanted to know was how and when he came to know and why he had taken such a long time to let her know that her concerns were for naught. 'Yes, I knew. Mycroft told me' he said slowly. 'How?' was all she could manage to choke out before her throat constricted painfully, making it hard for her to breathe. 'Why, the CCTV footage of course! He saw you both at the concert. E-excellent work, by the way. Really clever, the way you lured him out, so that Mycroft would spot him on the camera. T-the disguise made it a bit difficult but then, I suppose it was necessary. M-mycroft has always had the eye for these things, you know. He r-recognised Moriarty easily enough and two of his agents picked him up from here the very next day. I wonder why he never knew about Moran though..' he went on and on but Molly's eyes had lost focus entirely, staring into nothingness. He thought the entire concert was her way of letting Mycroft know about Jim's whereabouts discreetly, since there was no direct means of communication. He knew nothing about what had happened after the concert. He knew nothing of her feelings for his arch nemesis, because of whom the both of them were here at the moment. The thought of his reaction, if he found out, scared her so much that she actually stumbled back a few steps, wanting to get away from him, lest he deduce that too. She stood speechless, hoping against hope that he wouldn't stumble upon the information that would shock his now fragile nerves. All in vain. One look at his face and she knew that the cogs had started churning as usual, except, it was a pair of light brown eyes that scrutinised her instead of the ice blue ones she was accustomed to. When he started speaking, her eyes closed again, knowing that there was no escaping now. He went through every little detail, every little thing that she had done since she stepped into Dublin and all she could think of was him, how his mental prowess hadn't been hampered in the slightest by the disease. When he mentioned that she had had her heart broken once again, this time without his help, she shivered from sheer mortification. 'Who was it, then? A fellow doctor? No. Your mood is still pensive, you still cry over him sometimes, which means that you haven't seen him a long time. Interacting with him on a daily basis would have helped you to come to terms with the end of your relationship much faster, though many others believe otherwise. A patient, then? Really? It has to be someone whom you've been treating for a long time, rather than an out patient. Someone who was admitted under your care, discharged suddenly and without your consent because he was gone before you even knew he was going to leave...' He stopped speaking suddenly and she knew why. Her eyes had closed the moment he had commented on her heartbreak and she couldn't dare to open them. An uncomfortable silence had settled between them and she finally opened her eyes because she couldn't bear the silence any more. Her eyelids parted and she saw Sherlock, robbed of words for once. He said nothing, but his face, usually stoic and mask like, betrayed him. His features were streaked with an expression of pure hurt, the sort reserved for a time when the one you trust with your life lets you down, very literal in this case. Helplessly, she watched as he looked at her face for any hint, anything that would convince him that his deduction wasn't true, was grossly misplaced, but finding only irresolute proof that strengthened his deduction. 'Him?' he finally croaked, and she felt the tears escape her treacherous eyes as she blinked. At this point, she would have taken a bullet to the heart instead of his haunted expression. His fingers twitched and she half expected him to slap her, but instead, he just whirled around and stormed away into the showers, leaving her all alone. She sank to the floor as giant sobs overtook her petite frame for the umpteenth time since Jim had left. So, I let go watching you, turn your back Like you always do, face away and pretend that I'm not But I'll be here 'cause you are all that I've got I can't feel the way I did before, don't turn your back on me I won't be ignored, time won't heal this damage any more Don't turn your back on me, I won't be ignored

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