Sherlock's Love Interest (BBC Fan-Fiction)

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

*Two Weeks Later*

Sherlock's nightmares of Molly dying became much more common. So common, in fact, that he locked his door at night to keep himself from running to her and making sure she was okay. He knew that she was alright, he just had to take a second to wake up first.

He was starting to accept it, it was just his form of PTSD that he had finally received after so much that had happened. But then it changed. It wasn't just that she died, it was her being kidnapped from her own room.

He woke up one morning, his eyes wide and his breathing heavy. That nightmare had been worse than the previous ones. This was his dream:

"You could've saved her, you know. Kept her safe," hissed Moriarty.

"Leave her alone."

"I took her from right under your nose. You just slept and slept, all the while I took her away from you. If she had been in your room, you would still have her."

His nostrils flared and his fists clenched. "Give her back, Moriarty."

"No. See, I have a problem here. Wanna know what it is?"

Sherlock stayed silent.

"Come on. You must wanna know! Okay, I'll tell you. See, I need something better than just a girlfriend to play in the game. I need something stronger. John got this message long before I was dead. Long before I took Molly the first time. Guess what he did? He proposed to Mary! That's what he did! He married Mary! But you're too late. You didn't play along, and now you're gonna lose her forever."

Molly showed up in his arms, her breaths uneven and choppy. She pressed her hand against her heart. "Sherlock. Sherlock, please help me."

He tried to move, but his feet seemed to be stuck. He couldn't move. "Molly, hold on! Please!"

"Why didn't you play along?" she sobbed. "I would've said yes."

"Hold on! I'm coming!" He still couldn't move, no matter how hard he tried.

Moriarty held her head in his hands and smiled once more. "Say goodbye, Sherly Boy."

Molly's scream rang in his ears as her neck was snapped.

Because of this dream, Sherlock knew what his subconscious wanted. His subconscious wanted him to propose to Molly. He wanted to marry her. The longer he thought on this, the more he realised that was what he truly did want.

That afternoon he slipped out under the pretext of seeing John and walked to the nearby jewellery store.

He had to get the ring first, he knew. Then he would figure out what to do next. Perhaps he should ask John.

"I need a ring," he said when he walked in. The attendant looked up at him and smiled.

"Sherlock Holmes! I've heard so much about you! Pick anything in any of our cases, it's 40% off for you."

He nodded. "An engagement ring. Gold band, more than one diamond but no more than three or four. Size seven."

"Alright, let's see what I have..."

She brought up five rings. He looked them over, seeing which one Molly would most like. "This one," he pointed at the second from the right. It wasn't exactly what he had described, but close enough. One large diamond sat in the centre, surrounded by six smaller diamonds.

"Would you like anything inscribed on the inside?" she asked as she put the other rings away and got out a box.

He thought for a moment. Molly would like that, it would be like a secret she would always have to herself unless she shared it with others. It wouldn't be right out there in the open. She would like that because it would also show that he did put some thought into it, he didn't just come in, pick one, and leave.

" 'My never-ending mystery'."

"Adorable. Of course I will. Wait just a moment."

He sat there and waited, though not patiently. He quickly pulled his phone out and texted John.

Meet me at the deli beside 221B ASAP.
-SH

"There you go!" exclaimed the attendant. He hastily paid, put the ring in his coat pocket, and left.

John showed up at the deli within ten minutes of Sherlock, only to find him slouched in the corner deep in thought.

"Well?" he asked as he sat.

"Well what?"

"Why am I here?"

Sherlock pulled the box out and slid it across the table. When John looked inside, his first reaction was to laugh. "What's this for?"

Sherlock sat up suddenly and faced him, leaning intently on the table. "I'm going to ask Molly to marry me."

"What-you're kidding, right?" He closed the box and slid it back over, where it was hidden away again.

"No. I need you to tell me what to do."

"Meaning?"

"How should I do it? When? Where? I don't know if there's somewhere I need to go to do this or if I should just tell her."

He laughed again and sat back. "You don't see Sherlock Holmes confused very often, but when you do, it always comes back to females. Sherlock, take her out on a date. Just one more before you ask her. You've only gone out once!"

"Now is the time. I'm going to do it this week, John."

"Okay, okay. Can't believe this. You, asking a woman to marry you!"

"Focus, John."

"Just be yourself. Don't take my advice, except this: don't do it while she's busy or tired. When she's actually awake, okay? Just...when you look at her and feel surprised that she's actually there, that a girl like that would consider you, that's when you do it. Because that's what love feels like."

"That sounds very confusing."

He laughed. "It is."