Sherlock's Second Vow [FINISHED]

Chapter 16: Care Less

I did this one alone too. Sorry if it's a bit of a mess, I wrote it up real fast to try and make up for all my slacking.

A lot of shit is going down right now with COVID-19 so PLEASE STAY SAFE

Prayers for those who need them,

-Lis

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16

"My answer is no."

Of course. What did she expect?

It was dark out when Molly climbed into her car, but the lights seemed brighter, softer in the fog. The drive would be a long one, about three hours.

Three hours alone with herself and her thoughts. Why was she upset? She shouldn't be. She thought she'd ended that whole thing long ago.

Sherlock had been a right jerk at first, but a fascinating one. She'd crushed a little. He'd come by the lab often, and sometimes he talked to her. Then sometimes became often. After the Fall, she had become Sherlock's one tie to 221B, John, and his old life. He said he needed her, but she was afraid to think what that might mean.

They'd become friends, she thought. Sometimes she would look into his microscope and he would try and explain what he was doing-- she never really understood, it was usually outside her field of study. When Molly was working he'd show up and practice his deduction during the autopsy. Usually he was right, but sometimes she saw something he didn't.

When she stopped seeing him so often she'd started to worry, and when he did show up she could smell smoke on him.

There was where it looked like he might open up.

Sherlock had been working with some specimen or other, and she'd been cleaning up, and he had started talking about John. Sherlock missed him. He missed having a friend.

"I'm your friend too, aren't I?"

He looked up, surprised. "Well... I guess you are. I have two now."

Molly had gone to nudge his shoulder-- in a friendly, playful kind of way, but the second she'd touched him he froze. He looked at her, then her arm, and Molly could practically see his mind going a mile a minute. He left without speaking.

The next day she got a letter. He wanted to untangle Moriarty's web, and his work was taking him elsewhere.

It felt like her fault.

She guessed he wasn't used to affectionate touching. Sometimes he'd accepted hugs or light punches from John, but they knew each other much better. And he never seemed to know what to do with it.

Sherlock was fine with fighting, he was good at it. Molly guessed he'd rather fight someone than hug them.

She felt the opposite. And she knew he wasn't really comfortable with this sort of thing, but she'd gone for it anyway, because as smart as he was he didn't know how to talk about feelings.

After that it had been more of a professional relationship. Molly had got a boyfriend, she'd even been engaged.

But as nice as he was, she couldn't go through with it. It didn't feel right, as if she were pretending he was something he wasn't.

And then Sherlock had called her.

"I love you."

He'd said those words to her. He'd said them. It made her shiver to remember it.

But he would say anything, wouldn't he, for a case?

Molly had tried not to read too much into it, but then he'd avoided the topic. He was usually pretty curt and businesslike when it came to simple questions.

She'd hoped for a while. But years?

Molly glanced at the dash, where the clock read 8:32. Ugh, she hadn't even been on the road for an hour!

She pulled into a gas station parking lot and got out so she could breathe for a moment, although the air smelled like gasoline. The lights were bright, and music blared from a muddy red truck to her left.

Because the drugs never work

They're gonna give you a smirk

'Cause they got methods of keepin' you clean

They gonna rip up your heads

Your aspirations to shreds

Another cog in the murder machine

Murder. Huh, that would've gotten his attention. Molly pulled open the door to the little store. A bell jingled and the door fell shut, cutting off the music.

They could care less

As long as someone'll bleed

So dark--

Candy, lights, slushy machines. She grabbed a pre-wrapped sandwich and handed it to the cashier, who's name tag read: Mick. A half-finished iced coffee rested dangerously close to his elbow.

"Hey miss! Just the sandwich?"

"Please."

Mick rung it up. "Where you headin'?"

"Just back to London."

"Just London? Jeez, isn't that where that detective guy lives?"
She picked up the sandwich and turned it over in her hands, itching to get back to the car. "Yeah."

Mick must have seen something in her face, because he grinned. "He sounds like a nutjob."

"He really is."

"You know him?" The coffee took a plunge, shattering across the ground. Molly jumped back.

"Shit, sorry!" He grabbed a wad of napkins and scrambled to brush the glass into a pile. Molly saw a broom across the counter and handed it to him.

"You're gonna cut yourself if you use your hands."

He looked up. "Hmm? Oh, thanks."

She wasn't sure whether to walk away or wait-- wait for what? Mick finished cleaning up, gave the floor one last cursory inspection, and smiled half-heartedly. "I'm really sorry about that Miss..."

"Molly."

"Molly. Nice name." He held out a hand to shake hers, realized it was sticky, and gave her an awkward fistbump instead.

She pulled an iced coffee from the cooler by the register and paid for it. When he tried to hand it to her, Molly shook her head. "Be more careful this time, okay?"

"'Kay. Thanks."

"See you around, maybe," she said.

"Yeah, maybe."

Molly ate the sandwich in the driver's seat of her car, one window cracked. She had one of her stupid crushes again. She would have to deal with that later, but for now it distracted her from Sherlock. Should have gotten his number. That would have been distracting.

Next time she came down this way, she would.