Said I Love You But I Lied
A little one shot, set after the events of Season 4, particularly that one fandom-altering phone call.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Without moving any other part of his anatomy, Sherlock nervously shifted his eyes towards the woman beside him.
There was an air of agitation about her, which had definitely not been present up until a moment ago, and so he was anxious to know the reason for it.
That morning, he called Molly over to 221B to accompany him on yet another day of solving cases, as an apology for… the incident, and in an attempt to restore the easy companionship they once had and which, if he had to admit to himself, he terribly missed. Throughout the day, they both did their very best to act normal -or at least, as normal as it could get for either of them, considering how neither of them has ever been quite “normal” by society’s standards -around one another.
True, it had not exactly been the most comfortable day between the two of them. Nevertheless, they both attempted to mimic the rapport that existed between them during that first time she accompanied him on a day of case-solving.
They had been more or less successful, up until the shared cab ride back to the morgue (taking separate cars would have been ridiculous, seeing as how they were headed towards a single location -and they were friends, were they not?).
In fact, Sherlock could pinpoint the exact instance during the ride at which Molly started exhibiting signs of unrest: It was when the song currently filling the enclosed space first started playing.
This, of course, made absolutely no sense to Sherlock. How could one stupid song possibly affect her so?
“You came to me like the dawn through the night, just shinin’ like the sun…”
Molly shifted in her seat, gaze moving back and forth between the driver and the window, out towards the street. Her fingers tap-tap-tapped against her thigh.
“Out of my dreams and into my life.
You are the one, you are the one…”
She was very tense now, causing an answering tension to seize Sherlock’s muscles. He still could not understand why, but he could sense that he was about to find out soon.
“Said I loved you but I lied…”
A sharp intake of breath, and it took Sherlock a split second to realize that it was his. The sound caused Molly’s head to whip towards him, so fast he was almost afraid she’d crack her neck.
“‘Cause this is more than love I feel inside…”
He kept his eyes trained forward, and she fixed hers at the back of the driver’s head. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her fingers still drumming a tattoo on her thigh.
“Said I loved you but I was wrong,
‘cause love could never ever feel so strong…”
“P-please pull over. I’ll get off here.“
Her clear voice startled him into looking at her. She was worrying her lip between her teeth, but her gaze was determined.
The driver hesitated. They were still quite a ways from the destination they gave him when they got on.
“Are you sure, miss?”
The driver pulled to the curb, and Molly could not get out fast enough, not even bothering to close the door behind her.
Sherlock hurriedly thrust a few pound notes into the cabbie’s hand and spilled out onto the pavement to chase after the pathologist.
“Molly,” he called. This made her pick up her strides, but as his legs were much longer than hers, it was no time at all before he managed to catch up.
Even as he drew up alongside her, she remained determined to ignore him and kept walking briskly. He grasped her upper arm and dug his heels into the ground, bringing them both to a stop. Still, she kept her gaze firmly fixed to the ground. Her fists were clenched, her nostrils flaring, jaw tense and lips stretched in a thin line.
She lifted her eyes at the desperation in his voice, and he saw the unspoken question in them, the confusion, the hurt.
She searched his face, brows knitted in confusion.
“Molly, I didn’t,” he repeated.
She closed her eyes, as if in pain, and shook her head.
“I don’t understand… Sherlock, you didn’t what?”
“I didn’t lie, Molly.”
Her eyes remained shut, even as her whole body started to tremble.
“Please, Sherlock, don’t…” It was barely above a whisper, and his heart fractured at how broken she sounded. But he knew he had to speak his thoughts now, or he would never get the chance to speak them ever.
“No, Molly, listen. I have lied for so long, lied to myself about my feelings. It was at that time, at that moment, that I finally stopped. It took me saying it out loud to realize that those three words were the most honest thing I have said in a long time. I was not lying to you then, and I am not lying to you now. I love you, Molly Hooper. I love you.”
A tear spilled out from beneath closed eyelids, followed by another, and another.
Sherlock reached out to wipe them away, laying his hand on her cheek.
Finally, she opened her eyes, and he could feel himself being pulled into them.
She reached up to lay her hand on his, turning her head into his palm and pressing a kiss against it, all the while never breaking eye contact.
“No more lies?”
His breath hitched, and he felt an odd tightness in his chest, a stinging in his eyes.
“No more lies,” he promised.