The Universe Is Rarely So Lazy

What Do We Say About Coincidences?

Summary:

Molly's secret is out...but her humiliation over the entire matter is dragging her down. Sherlock's newfound emotional side takes hold as he realizes what he has to do for his..."friend"(?)

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Sherlock sighs, being brought back to the present when the cabbie yells and snaps his fingers at him. "EY! You getting out?"

He blinks and clears his throat. "Oh, yes. Yes, apologies." Sherlock pays the cabbie and takes a deep breath, looking at the sunny yellow door of Molly's home. It's become a sight that is both familiar and comforting, except now it's tainted with what he was forced to have her endure because of Eurus. He doesn't think he'll quite be able to look at her kitchen the same again, never mind her kind face.

Grabbing the hide-a-key (the one she put there in preference of him picking her lock and jamming it again), he unlocks her door and softly closes it, unsure if she is asleep yet.

"Molly?", he murmurs softly, not wanting to startle her if she is in her sitting room. He realizes the room is dark and then hears a noise coming from her hallway. He cautiously makes his way down her hallway towards the noise until he is close to the door to her bathroom, and he can hear retching.

"Molly?", he calls out, eyebrows furrowing in concern. It seems his deduction about her being sick was correct, but that was weeks ago. What could possibly keep her sick for so many weeks?

"Sherlock!? Don't come in!", she squeals, a mixture of pissed and scared.

"Are you alright? I-I just came to talk, and I heard you...a-are you sick?"

"It's just the flu. Please go, I don't want you to catch it."

"Oh please, you know I'm nearly invulnerable", he jokes.

"Not in the mood for your terrible jokes", she growls annoyedly.

"Right, sorry..."

He hears the water run for a while and then she steps out wearing a large fluffy pink robe and smelling like mouthwash. Her hair is a bit damp, and her eyes are puffy like she had been crying.

"What did you want?", she mumbles, standing at a distance.

"I-...I know it's late. I was just thinking about everything that's happened, and I realized that you seemed sick the last time or two that I saw you, so I got concerned. I figured you'd be okay by now, but I wanted to make sure."

"You...you wanted to check to see if I were sick?"

"Yes, essentially."

"Well I am, but I'm not dead, so...you can go now."

He swallows thickly, he knows that she is still peeved at him for the Sherrinford thing, despite all the conversation and the explanations, but he didn't expect her to be so short with him still.

"Right...alright." Before she can register what's happening, he leans in and gives her a hug, knowing she needs it the way she had known when he needed it.

Molly gasps and immediately freezes. Sherlock freezes as well, feeling something that has never been there before. He quickly pulls away and glances over her, his eyes widening.

Her eyes well with tears and she turns away. "Please just go...please", she chokes out, on the verge of a breakdown.

"Molly..."

"Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Y-You're pregnant??"

She hugs herself and tears drip down her cheeks with shame. "Guess the cat is out of the bag", she weeps.