Reconciliation — Chapter 18: I love you

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!

We're not the same, dear, as we used to be. The seasons have changed and so have we. There was little we could say, and even less we could do To stop the ice from getting thinner under me and you He smelled of ink and sandalwood. She took a deep breath and drowned in it. A sense of familiarity was more than welcome after months spent among strangers. She remembered how he used to stand a little closer to her than usual, smile one of his dazzling smiles and flirt with her when he wanted something from the morgue or the lab. How far they had come from there! If a year ago someone would've told her that a neurasthenic Sherlock would be kissing her in a deserted parking lot in Dublin of all places, she would have laughed and told the person they'd had too much to drink. And yet, that's what was happening. His arms were enveloped around her loosely and her own were wound around his neck. They stood without saying anything, without looking at each other. To say that the silence was awkward would've been an understatement. His breathing was laboured and she could almost hear his heart pounding away against his ribs. 'Molly..' he said finally, in a low whisper that made her shudder. His voice never failed to evoke a reaction from her. However, the cold calculated voice that hurled insults at Anderson or deduced John or even mocked her (how could she ever forget THAT Christmas?) was gone. Instead, what she heard was a mellow voice, full of emotion, and by the looks of it, clueless what to say next. So she merely nodded her head slightly, to let him know her assent, that she would come with him to London, because if she were honest with herself, she didn't really have a choice. When had she refused him anything? But, Jim? how could she forget him? She wasn't supposed to do this! How could she just let herself be happy when there was no sign where Jim was, whether he was even alive or not. She had loved him, for God's sake! She couldn't just pretend that nothing had happened and go back with Sherlock and get back to being his pathologist! That was not how things were supposed to proceed! 'Molly, look at me' he murmured and her head snapped upward to meet his gaze and almost reeled back in shock at what she saw. His eyes were full of tears, just about to overflow and his pupils were blown black. However, the most unexpected thing was the smile that was spread across his face. Not a smirk, not a grin, but a smile, a real smile. It made him look so adorable that she felt her insides melt. Why had she been so adamant on staying away from him? That had been her mistake, thinking that things never turned out the way she wanted. She realised it now. She had been the one to turn away from things that would make her happy, instead choosing to drown in self pity. 'I am never doing this to myself again' she thought, 'London, it's my home, it's where I belong. And Sherlock? He's the reason for that!' Because really, what more was happiness than being with the person she loved? 'Thank you' said he and she smiled too, standing on tiptoes and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, her hesitation melting away at his touch. There was no question of staying back. It simply wasn't an option. It didn't matter if things between them didn't proceed after going back. It didn't matter if the kiss was just a one time thing. She could deal with it. She had had so much heartbreak at Sherlock's hand that it had stopped affecting her. To a point that she had finally got over the idea of something happening between the two. Expectation and hoping for something unattainable hurt too much and if she was going to be in London again, she would have to get used to the idea that things would go back to normal. Sherlock would probably find faults with each of her dates. She would still pine after him, still cry whenever he broke her heart with his cruel but accurate deductions and she would still be there to assist him with whatever he needed. She could deal with all of it. It was still better than a life with no Sherlock, here in Dublin, without a single familiar face. Moreover, Jim wasn't coming back. How much ever she wished for that to happen, it wasn't going to. Her uncertain future seemed clearer now. London and Sherlock. 'Always' she whispered and fell back into his arms, head resting against his thundering heart. 'Do you know why I came here before going back to London?' he asked and his voice rumbled pleasantly in her ears. She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak without choking up. 'Guess' he said, tilting up her face with a finger under her chin. The smile from his face was gone, replaced by a look filled with tenderness, caring and (dare she think it?) love. Oh. Oh. Suddenly, the air around her became too thick choking her. She couldn't believe this. No, she couldn't. Because if this turned out to be true, and life went back to the way it was before the Fall when they were back in London, she couldn't stand it. Assuming that his disinterest was because of his complete focus on his work was one thing, but knowing that this wasn't the case and then expecting things only to be crushingly disappointed was another. Suddenly she felt as if they were back in the morgue, with Irene Adler's dead body on a slab between them. The bile rose in her throat and she felt a sudden urge to vomit. Just when she had resigned herself to a life filled with unrequited love, this had to happen. But she couldn't let herself hope. She couldn't, because it would break her. Where a decade of pining over Sherlock Holmes and falling in love with Jim Moriarty hadn't done the job, hope would do it. It would be enough to shatter her. His lips parted forming words that she didn't want to hear, that she never wanted to hear again. 'I love you, Molly' Looking at him through the tiny glass window, working away at his microscope in such a focussed manner. I love you, she whispers so that her breath fogged up the glass. Curled up on the sofa with him as they watch Glee together. His lips plant tiny butterfly kisses at her temple, her cheek and over her palms. I love you, she thinks as she snuggles closer to him. Tracing her fingers over his photograph gently as if she were caressing his cheek. I love you, you're brilliant. Wrapping up the gift in a perfect manner, her fingers ghosting over the red paper before putting it into the bag. Merry Christmas, I love you, she smiles. Unable to stop the tears after rushing back into her flat. I love you so much, and you hurt me. Every time, she sobs, tearing out the silver bow from her hair. I love you! Please don't leave me alone, she thinks as she throws her arms around him after the fall. Being kissed on New Years Eve by him, gently, as if he were handling something fragile. I love you, she thinks wildly as her fingers entangle in his hair. I love you, she says to him despite knowing that he is fast asleep, as she tiptoes out of the room. 'I love you, Molly' ' I love you, Ella' His voice jolted her out of her mind but it seemed far away, like she had retreated somewhere where no one could reach her. Her mind was buzzing and she had no clue of what was happening any more. xxxxxxxxxxxxx 'Molly?' he asked again, genuinely hurt and flummoxed by her lack of a reply. What was she thinking? Wasn't this what she had always wanted, him reciprocating her feelings? True, Moriarty had been here for a few months, but that didn't mean anything, did it? She had been in love with him fro years and she had just agreed to come back to London with him. She had kissed him back. For once, he had thought things were going to be fine, but why wasn't she saying anything? He needed her right now, more than anything. Needed her to be his cornerstone, to provide him with he stability he needed, the familiarity he craved for. What he had told her wasn't untrue in the least. He loved her, he did, but it had taken him a lot of time and Jim Moriarty to realise it. He knew she loved him too. It was plainly visible to anyone with a pair of eyes. But why wasn't she saying anything and why was she looking at him with lost, confused eyes? 'Molly?' he tried again, resting his hands on her shoulders in a comforting manner. To his absolute horror, she burst out laughing.

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