Ashes, Ashes

Turning Tables

- c h a p t e r   t h i r t y -

"What are you going to do, Emma?" Molly asked.

"Lovely question. Shame I don't have an answer for it," Emma replied. The main problem with the question was that Emma didn't entirely understand it - was she talking about what she would do in the next few minutes? In the next few days? For the rest of her life?

Molly seemed to sense this uncertainty and quickly rephrased her statement.

"I mean...what are you going to do now? So much in your life has changed, but you know that people truly do care about you...what are you going to do?"

"If I knew, would I have come here to whine about my life to you?" Emma asked.

"Well..."

"Honestly, Molly. Things might be different now, but I don't know how to adjust to them."

"Time does quite a bit," Molly suggested. "I can tell you that with certainty from experience. I should know, after everything that has happened...not that all of that matters all too much. Don't worry about making it all come together right now."

Despite these words of encouragement, Emma couldn't help but feel as if she'd lost all hope

"I'm so pathetic," Emma sighed. "All I do is cry and cry about everything that happens in my life and as soon as I try to fix one of the problems I create, I end up not being able to talk."

"Emma, I-"

"Wait a minute."

"What is it?" Molly asked, taken aback after being interrupted. "Is something wrong?"

Emma couldn't carry on the conversation when her thoughts had started to churn around in such a manner. It didn't made sense for her to continue standing there constantly speaking out whenever she needed most to remain inside. She wanted to talk to Molly, yes, but she needed to think by herself first.

Molly seemed entirely concerned that Emma was no longer speaking to her. Emma noted this and then prompty ignored her for a few more moments. She could keep herself together as long as she didn't have Molly's words echoing within her ears. She could figure this out. She could most certainly figure it out.

It was just right out of her reach no matter what she did.

Thinking was not going to work, that much was certain. What Emma needed to do was speak. So many words swirled within her head and were desperate to be released, desperate to be heard.

"I've had enough of sitting around, moping about and feeling sorry for myself," Emma said. "It seems like it's all I've done for the past handful of years."

"Well, it certainly isn't all you've done," Molly replied. "I'm certain you've done something."

"I've started lots of somethings," Emma replied. "I've started trying to do something time and time again, and it always just falls apart between my fingers."

"Maybe it's a sign that you have to keep trying something else," Molly suggested. Emma had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at such a suggestion - how was that going to help her if everything kept falling apart.

"I don't know about that, Molly."

"Didn't you say you were going to do something for Sherlock before he left?"

"I did," Emma sighed. "I just don't know if I'm going to finish any of it. Do you see what my problem is, Molly? It's quite simple, isn't it? And I can't do a thing."

"It's not like we can control the fact that he's leaving, that much is for sure," Molly said. She was just beginning to realise that all of her efforts to help Emma were more or less falling apart. "We can only do what we can, and if you can't manage to finish everything for him, so be it."