Finally, He's Mine. - A Sherlolly Fanfic

Chapter Fourteen

I paced up and down the living room, eyes glued to my phone. I couldn't believe what Sherlock was doing. Prancing around London looking for some potential serial killer. I felt sick. I decided to text him.

Sherlock, text me back when you get this so I know that you're safe. I love you. Xx

I heard nothing back. I just sat on the sofa with the TV on in the background for some distraction. I checked my phone every couple of minutes but still nothing. I made my way to bed to at least try and get some sleep. 

I looked over at the clock, 01:23. Surely he'd be home soon. I heard something and my ears pricked, I jumped out of bed and ran to the living room. The door opened and there stood Sherlock.

"Are you okay? Come here, let me look at you. Are you hurt. John is he okay?"

"Molly, relax we're both fine. Don't worry, we won't be making a habit of doing this sort of thing, especially now." He put his hands on mine and smiled down at me. Even though he looked sincere, a small part of me knew that he wouldn't keep his promise.

Three weeks later, I found myself in the same situation. Sleepless at the fact that the man I loved was out looking for yet another murderer and putting himself in unnecessary danger.

"But, Sherlock," I protested as he walked back into the flat, "you know how scared I get when you do this. Why do you keep doing this?"

He didn't answer me, he just looked at me and walked into the kitchen and got himself a drink.

"Sherlock?" I asked, almost afraid to speak to him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He said as he walked over to the bedroom.

"Sherlock, please, what have I done?"

"Nothing." He repeated.

I just stood in the kitchen as he walked away from me. I sat down at the kitchen table and let my thoughts run away with me.

I don't know how long I'd been sat there when I heard footsteps coming towards me.

"Molly?"

I looked round and saw Sherlock stood in the doorway.

"Are you coming to bed?"

"Not just yet."

"Are you okay?"

"You're the 'genius' you tell me, Sherlock."

"Oh fucking hell Molly, don't be so obtuse."

"Me, obtuse?! Are you taking the piss? I'm the one that's pregnant and feels like my ankles are about to explode, I'm over emotional about everything, I cry at everything and my fiancé won't tell me what's wrong with him and worst of all I think that he couldn't give a flying fuck about me because no matter how many times I tell him that I worry and wish he wouldn't keep doing what he does he still carries on anyway. So yeah, I guess I am being obtuse."

I stood up and walked into the living room and grabbed my coat and bag.

"Where the hell are you going?" 

"Out, you can worry for a change, see what it feels like for me on a permanent basis." 

"Molly' don't"

"Don't you 'Molly don't' me." 

"When will you be back?" 

"Whenever I feel like it." 

I pulled my coat around me as I walked into the cold early morning air. I waddled down the street trying to stifle my tears but it wasn't working. I put my left hand on my bump and looked down at my ring. For a second I wondered if it would all be worth it or if he'd just be exactly the same once we were married. I felt my phone buzz in my bag.