ep. I can't believe...

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As Sherlock looked at the time on his laptop, he took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes

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As Sherlock looked at the time on his laptop, he took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes. He hadn't slept in two days, and even though this case wasn't finished, he knew he needed to take a break. People had started to file into the office, ready to start the work day, as he packed up, ready to end it. His co-workers were used to his irregular hours, and often brought him coffee throughout the day if they knew he'd had a particularly late one. The only people that weren't particularly happy to have him as their boss were Donavon and Anderson, but they kept it to themselves, knowing what he'd been through in the last year and a half.

Since he'd seen Mike Stamford a year ago, a lot had happened. Stanton Hicks was found guilty of many crimes, including drug transportation, embezzlement and money laundering. When Sherlock had heard of this, he decided to report him for the murder of Melody. He hadn't thought to do it before, thinking that it would be impossible for the police to catch him. But, he was eventually charged with a life sentence (20 years, -5 for pleading guilty, along with his upstanding 24 years in prison). Sherlock thought of this as a win, as long as he didn't get out along the way. He would also try everything in his power to make sure that his sentence wouldn't get shortened and that he would never be let free.

Just as he was about to walk out of the building, he heard his name being called. "Sherlock! Hold up a second!" He turned around to see Greg speed walking towards him. "I've got something that you might like. I know you're going home, but I just wondered if you wanted to take a quick look?" Sherlock thought for a minute before nodding his head.

"Sure, I suppose I could." Greg turned around to face him while still walking.

"I remember the times when you would jump at a murder. Couldn't get enough of them. I guess times change, huh?" Sherlock gave a short smile, before focusing on where Greg was taking him. As they walked through the doors to the morgue, Sherlock could hear two women speaking. One of them was Molly, but the other one he couldn't quite figure out. He knew he recognised it from somewhere, but he just shook it off. It wasn't important. "This murder was particularly brutal, so hopefully you still have a strong stomach."

Just as they turned the corner, the two women speaking came into view. Sherlock being Sherlock, didn't acknowledge them in the slightest, instead going straight over to the cadaver. "Oh, h-hi Sherlock. I'm not sure if you've met-"

"I probably haven't, so let's just get introductions out of the way, as I would very much like to go hom-" As soon as he looked up from the body, Sherlock froze. Everything in his body had gone into shutdown mode at the sight in front of him.

There, standing next to Molly with a tearful look on her face, was Melody. Except, she wasn't Melody. Not anymore. She was different. She now had black hair as a posed to light brown, and she adorned all black clothing, a rod straight stance holding her up.

"Sherlock? What is it?" Molly asked with concern in her voice. Greg too was shocked to see that Melody was standing there alive. Everybody had thought her dead.

"No, no, I'm sorry, it's just me seeing things." Sherlock looked down, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. Looking back up, he realised that he wasn't in fact seeing things. She was really there. "Why?" He whispered. Clenching and unclenching his hands, trying to stop the tears from falling down his face, but failing miserably. Melody wasn't doing to well at keeping her emotions at bay either, with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Sherlock looked her up and down for a moment, before scoffing and turning around wiping his eyes. "Of course. Mycroft." He spat.

"Sherlock plea-"

"No!" He shouted. "You do not get to walk in here like everything can go back..." He stopped speaking for a moment to try and get ahold of himself, as the crying had interrupted his speech. "You can't just walk in here and expect me to not be furious that you put me through this." Melody tom a few slow steps closer to him, so she was standing right in front of the literal love of her life.

"You..." Melody tried to start, but she had to calm herself down before she tried speaking. "You have to understand why I did it." She slowly lifted her hand up to meet his cheek. And as much as he didn't want to, his body involuntarily leaning into her touch. Closing his eyes, he was reminded of all the times that he craved her touch, and decided that he was never going to be without it again. He couldn't be without it again.

"Of course I understand." He breathed out. "But you have to understand that even though it was nearly two years ago, it still hurts." Melody nodded. "But I'll be dammed if I let you think that you're ever leaving me again. If you actually die, I will just...kill myself too. Because," he rested one hand on top of hers, and another on her cheek, his thumb brushing away her tears just as hers were brushing his away. "a world without you is not a world worth living in."

For the first time in what felt like an eternity for both of them, they slowly drifted towards each other, placing all of the passion that either one of them could muster, into the first of many future kisses. Pulling apart, they both looked into each other's eyes, before resting their foreheads against one another's.

In that moment, even after the events of the past, nothing mattered to he two of them, except for each other, and what was going to happen next.

"What do you say we go home?" Melody whispered to Sherlock cheekily. Greg and Molly left the morgue, giving the two some privacy.

"I'd say," he replied, snaking an arm around her waist, not stopping the grin that was forming on his face from actually being able to do that. "we should definitely go home. Shall we get some food as well?"

"Yes, we should. How would you feel about doing some catching up as well?" She said, a playful smile on her face, slowly sliding her hand down Sherlock's shirt covered torso. (a/n: before you ask, yes, if i don't say the colour of the shirt, please assume that it is purple).

"How would you feel if we got married?" Melody's hand halted to a stop just above his stomach, a confused look etched on her face.

"You're serious?" Sherlock smirked, letting go of her and reaching around his neck to get to the chain that had been sat there for the past year. On the end of it, was a gorgeous engagement ring.

"I was going to ask you a couple of days before...you know. But obviously I never got the chance. I'll have to thank Mycroft later. With multiple punches to the face. Anyway, I think now is as good as any time to do it." Sherlock slowly got down on one knee, holding up the now detached ring up. " Melody River Winters, will you do me the honour, finally, of becoming my wife?"

All Melody could do was stand there in shock for a moment. She was not expecting this on her return. Maybe a distant or angry Sherlock, but not a bloody proposal. But, she as the complaining. She had been through hell during her time away. Much like when Sherlock pulled the same stunt.

Sherlock's face turned cold again, as he realised that she wasn't answering. "Right, I see." He was starting to stand up again, but Melody held onto his shoulder.

"Of course I'll marry you, you bloody idiot."

─ tiny dancer, s.h. Where stories live. Discover now