Reconciliation — Chapter 16: Staying put

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!

She woke up to a flash of the brightest blue. Confused, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and stared around in room was empty and she was quite alone. Her alarm would ring in a few minutes anyway, so she decided to forego those last moments of sleep and stepped into the bathroom, yawning. She emerged fifteen minutes later, with a towel around her petite frame and nearly yelled at the sight that beheld her. There was Sherlock, seated in her armchair, in her very room, completely at ease, like he was at 221B itself. 'What are you doing here?' she squealed, trying to wrap the towel more securely around her. 'Come back with me to London' he said tonelessly, not even lifting his gaze to meet hers, for which she was thankful at the moment. She sighed sadly. He would never understand, would he? 'My decision was made long ago, Sherlock. There was a time when I wanted to leave this damned place and never step out of London. But now, things are different' she said softly, feeling sorry for the detective in front of her. Looking at his broken condition always made her anger ebb away like a receding tide but this time she was determined not to let her resolve waver. He stood up suddenly and before she could move away, his hands had cupped her face, his blue eyes staring into her very soul. She knew immediately that this was what had woken her up in the morning. Had he watched her sleep and waited for her to wake up, then? 'What changed?' he whispered, his breath dancing on her face and suddenly, she was reminded of another night, the night before the fall, when they had been all alone in the morgue and he had confessed to needing her. They had almost kissed back then, his lips ghosting over hers before settling at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes almost closed, waiting for him to lean in but it never happened. Her eyes opened in reluctance and she saw the dark brown eyes of Jim Moriarty staring back at her. With a yell, she jumped back, her hand over her heart which was thumping away so loudly that she could barely hear anything else. 'Molly?' asked Sherlock concernedly as she stepped away from him, gasping. How on earth had that happened? Was it just something that her mind had conjured, to remind her that she loved Jim? Was it Sherlock's closeness that had triggered it? 'Molly, what's wrong?' he questioned, holding out his arms in worry and she felt herself break. The disappearance of Jim, the return of Sherlock, the killing of Moran, all came to her in a rush and she had to suppress the urge to vomit. 'Everything changed' she sobbed,'Everything has changed so suddenly, Sherlock, I don't know what to do. Moran's gone and I should be relieved but I'm not and you're here and I can't come back to London, Sherlock. Please don't make me. I can't' she cried, before collapsing on the bed, with her head in her hands. 'If it is me being mad about you having feelings for Moriarty you are worried about, then it's alright. I forgive you. It was probably the loneliness that made you think that you were emotionally inclined towards him and he responded without knowing how to, and you ended up thinking that he reciprocated your feelings. Anyway, since he is now safely out of the picture, can we please go back to London? I need you there, and it has been a long time since my supposed exile and I need to be back at Baker street and you at St. Bart's so can we go back as soon as we can? I forgive you, Molly. You need not worry about me treating you any differently because of what you have done' he concluded and she felt the fury inside her rise again like a many headed monster. Was there no end to how insensitive he could be? Did he really think that it was loneliness that pushed her into Moriarty's arms? Did he honestly belive that after everything that had happened, she would still be willing to go back to London and be his doormat? His stunned expression told her that she had wondered out aloud. So she continued, determined to get it all out in one go. 'You forgive me? You forgive me? And what have I done to earn this forgiveness? I always knew that you were a sociopath who had distanced himself fro emotions but today, Sherlock, you have proved to me that you're nothing but a heartless bastard! After all that has happened, the least you can do is leave me alone! I don't want to go to Bart's again. I don't want to be a pathologist again. I don't want to be at your beck and call again. I don't even want to be Molly Hooper again. Most importantly, I don't want to fall in love with you again, knowing that you would never feel the same. I have had enough heartbreaks for a lifetime, Sherlock. So please, don't ask me to come to London with you' she said, tears streaming down her face. If he had looked stunned earlier, it was nothing compared to the expression on his face right now. Guilt, hurt, remorse, she could see it all. But it wasn't going to change her decision. She was certain about that much. Come what may, she would never go back to London of her own free will. Enough was enough. Perhaps he had seen the steely resolve in her eyes, for, a moment later he spoke, his voice full of determination. 'What you have had to suffer because of me cannot be undone. I am not capable of mending broken hearts, you know that. It's not really my area. I promise you one thing, though. I am not budging from here till I earn your forgiveness. I am not going back to London without you. It may take me years to convince you, but if I ever go back to London, I am not leaving you behind. You have my word, Molly Hooper, and I always keep my promises' he concluded gravely.

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