Queen of the Mind Palace // Sherlolly ✔️

Chapter 12

She was prodigious. Sherlock hadn't a clue how he had managed to stumble across such a gem as Sawyer, but it was almost paradisiac, how everything was working out. This was working. Somehow, everything was working. Molly was here with him, Sawyer was here with him, Gael was here with him. He had his people and his people had him and Sherlock liked it that way. He smiled to himself, as he left St. Bart's, Molly at his side and Sawyer tugging Gael's hand in front of them.

"Why are you smiling?" Molly asked. Sherlock looked at her, then looked up at the sky.

"Because things feel good right now, Molly."

"I thought you only felt good when you were solving cases," Molly said with a small laugh. Sherlock tilted his head to the side, considering this.

"Then this is all one big case, Molly, and I just struck gold."

"I suppose so Sherlock," Molly said, but something seemed off about her voice. Sherlock looked at her, an eyebrow cocked.

"What?"

Molly looked at him, her face a mixture of interest and sadness. The sun was barely peeking through the clouds, though it's rays lit her face in the right angles. Sherlock blinked at her, ignoring the tightness of breath in his chest. Odd, must be the excitement of the day.

"What is she to you, Sherlock?" Molly asked. Sherlock blinked.

"What do you mean?" Molly's gaze lingered ahead where Gael skipped and tugged on Sawyer's arm.

"How do you see Sawyer, Sherlock. Surely she must be more than an experiment to you, something to tinker with and throw away when you're done." Sherlock frowned, staring at Molly intensely.

"Is that what I do?"

The sadness on Molly's face was now clear, "sometimes," she said quietly, "sometimes."

Sherlock felt something shoot through him, something unfamiliar that crawled up his spine and echoed through his chest. Sherlock frowned, he didn't like this new feeling. Pushing it down, Sherlock turned to Molly, "you know I don't usually mean the things I say."

A small smile fell over Molly's face, "yeah, I know." Sherlock nodded slowly.

"But to answer your question," he paused, watching Sawyer. A small grin spread over his lips and he could feel Molly watching him curiously, "she's like my..." he sighed, then looking at Molly and shrugging helplessly. Molly's grinned widened.

"Daughter," she whispered. Sherlock's gaze snapped to her, "she's like your daughter." Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, stopping abruptly in his tracks. Molly kept walking, not looking back.

Sherlock had meant to say student, or pupil or something. But as he began to pick up the pace again, he considered this. Daughter. It sounded.... well he wasn't completely sure how it sounded.

But what he did know, however, was that he sure didn't hate it.

Sherlock watched as Molly caught up with Sawyer and Gael, ruffling the young boy on the head and laughing. It suddenly struck Sherlock. Was that how Molly thought of the two? Sherlock felt himself smiling softly at the scene, though his smile fell quickly. Sherlock's fist tightened and he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

What was happening to him?

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Yes I'm sorry, this chapter was really short. But don't worry; I will most definitely make it up to you ;)...