Chapter Text
Sherlock’s fingers tapped silently on the upholstered arm of the chair, his gaze drifting out the window as he opted not to be the first one to speak.
“So, how are you this week?”
He turned to face the therapist. “Perfectly well.”
She nodded. “Good, that’s very good to hear. And, remind me…how long has it been now?”
Inhaling deeply, he worked out the latest number. “I’ve been sober for a total of four hundred and twelve days.” Every time he spoke the number aloud he had a hard time believing the reality of it.
The therapist grinned brightly. “That is truly something to be proud of. Well done.” A pause. “How is your sister? Did you have your usual visit yesterday?”
“I did.” Sherlock smiled a little. “She’s doing as well as she can be. She still rarely speaks…but regardless, I find that we are able to have what I consider meaningful interactions.”
“Absolutely! Words aren’t the only kind of connection we need. Speaking of connections though, I know I’ve mentioned it before, but have you given any more thought to group settings for support?”
He couldn’t hold back the little sniff of displeasure. “As I’ve said before, for the benefit of both myself and anyone else who would be in attendance, I would do better to avoid that sort of thing. Besides, I am not lacking in opportunities to talk openly with others. God knows the Watsons enjoy forcing that upon me quite often.”
She chuckled lightly. “Friends sometimes give us what we need, even when we don’t want it. And how are the Watsons?”
“Very well. Busy with Rosie, of course. She’s a brilliant child, naturally, but has quite a bit of energy.”
“You light up when you speak about her, you know,” the therapist commented with a knowing look. “It’s obvious that your involvement in her life has been a very positive influence on yours.”
Sherlock blinked, keeping his eyes downward. “I am grateful for it.” He drew a breath before speaking again. “Regarding the Watsons, they’re currently trying to force me into going on holiday with them.”
The therapist’s brow lifted. “Oh, how lovely! And where would that be?”
“They’ve booked a cottage in Northamptonshire next month, for two weeks.” He shifted in the seat, crossing and then uncrossing his legs. “I’m not sure I can make it.”
“Oh. Are you a bit busy with work?”
“Not exactly.”
“I see.”
She paused a breath, leaning against the arm of her chair. “It sounds like it would be a lovely break for you,” she said, her words gently encouraging.
Sherlock shrugged one shoulder, calculatingly casual about the subject. “I just haven’t decided quite yet.”
Nodding thoughtfully, the therapist spoke again, her words cautious. “Northamptonshire…that’s about a half hour drive from Bedford, isn’t it?”
Sherlock’s eyes narrowed, connecting to hers. “Yeees.”
“Mm, I thought so.” She peered at him with interest. “And is that something you’d like to talk about?”
“Are you playing detective now?” Sherlock asked with a little smirk.
She pursed her lips. “I don’t need to. I’m already a therapist. And you didn’t answer my question. Would you like to talk about that?”
Swallowing thickly, Sherlock gripped his knees, attempting to quiet the urge to bounce his legs. And then he answered the way he almost always did in regards to that particular subject.
“No, I’d rather not.”
She gave him a tight smile, nodding in understanding as she leaned back in her chair, replying the same way she always did when he said that.
“Maybe next time then.”
But after a moment of silence, she spoke again, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was actually some sort of hypnotist rather than a therapist. Because as she said it, he knew that for whatever reason, he was going to listen to her admonition.
“A holiday with the Watsons could be a really good thing. Give it some thought.”
One Month Later
“Can you take her outside, please?” Mary asked, herding a giggling Rosie toward Sherlock. “She slept for nearly two hours in the car and now she’s got far too much energy to be cooped up in here while we get things put away and try to make dinner. If she can burn it off, maybe we’ll have a chance at a normal bedtime tonight.”
Sherlock picked his goddaughter up immediately, with a little accompanying bounce that made her laugh all the more. “What do you say? Should we go outside while mummy and daddy do boring things?”
“Yes, please!”
“Shall I time you again while you race? Perhaps you’ll be even faster than last week.”
“I am!” Rosie insisted excitedly. “I’m bigger!”
“Bless him,” Mary sighed as Sherlock headed out the door and set Rosie down in the field that the cottage sat on. The little girl took off like a shot, and Mary smiled at John as she joined him in the kitchen. “Well, that was definitely what she needed.”
As she approached, John held up her mobile, an inquisitive look on his face.
“You just got a text…from Molly. It said, ‘that sounds nice, I’d love to stop by and see Rosie.’”
Taking her phone, Mary gave John as innocent a smile as she could muster. “Oh, did I not mention I texted Molly? It’s just that, when we got here I happened to remember how close she is to us compared to the distance from London, so it just seemed like a good opportunity to-“
“That’s not all it is.”
Mary let out a short laugh. “What?”
“Now listen here, you may be the ex assassin, but I’m the man who’s been with you for five years now, and I know when there’s something more going on!”
Mary sighed. “Alright, alright, it definitely occurred to me when I was inviting Sherlock.” She paused as John gave her another little look. “Ok, maybe it was as far back as when I booked the cottage. But before you get upset and say I shouldn’t be interfering-“
“Get upset? Are you joking?” John laughed. “I just want in!”
Mary threw her head back, laughing aloud with him. “I don’t want to push too much, but I just think it’s been long enough, don’t you?”
“I’d like to think so. He’s done a lot of work on himself. More than I ever would have believed a few years ago,” John said, shaking his head.
“And he needed that. To be honest, I think Sherlock really needed time on his own right after…everything. He should have gotten the help he needed and given himself time to heal before jumping into anything serious with Molly. They were both in far too deep. If they’d just waited a while, they might have saved themselves all this heartbreak.”
“Sherlock told me himself long ago that a girlfriend wasn’t his area,” John said, a little sadly. “I really wanted to believe he was gonna be wrong, for both their sakes.”
“I think if he gave it another chance, this time he would be wrong.” Mary’s voice was firm and confident. “After Sherrinford, Sherlock and Molly were doomed before they even got started. But he’s a different man now than he was two years ago. I just want to give them the chance to try.” She shrugged. “If they don’t want to take that chance, that’s their loss.”
John gave his wife a little smile. “I love you, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” She leaned over, kissing him on the cheek. “I might kinda love you too.”
“Again, again!” Rosie begged amidst gleeful laughter.
“Rosie, Uncle Sherlock has built and knocked down that tower enough times already,” Mary chided gently. “Maybe he’d like to do something else now.”
Sherlock waved away the concern. “No, it’s perfectly alright. Each time I’m having her do more of the building. She’s picking it up rather quickly!”
He smiled at the little girl as she began alternating with him, placing blocks in their correct place, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed the Watsons speaking in hushed tones in the kitchen.
Something wasn’t right.
“I’d expect this sort of failed attempt at discretion from John, but not from you Mrs Watson,” Sherlock called out from where he sat on the living room floor, making both of them look his way.
The two of them exchanged a look and then crossed the room to him, and John cleared his throat.
“Look, we aren’t trying to keep anything from you. In fact, that’s impossible since this is gonna become very obvious in just a few minutes.”
The bridge of his nose pinched together. “What is?”
“Molly,” Mary blurted out. “Molly Hooper is stopping by.”
Sherlock’s gaze shifted from one Watson to the other, and both of them seemed to be watching him like a ticking time bomb. He blinked, processing what they’d said, but honestly admitting to himself that he’d been half waiting for this news. This was hardly a shock.
“That’s perfectly fine,” he replied instantly, gaze shifting back to the blocks.
“You sure?” John asked, peering at him. “Because we don’t want to make anything uncomfortable. For either of you.”
“I’m not uncomfortable. Molly and I are friends, we’re friends, always have been.”
“It’s just that we’re not usually so near to where she lives,” Mary explained. “We can’t be this close and not see her. She hasn’t seen Rosie in more than six months.”
That gave him pause. He thought Molly hadn’t been back to London in at least a year. She must have come back at some point and he hadn’t even been made aware. He supposed that was understandable.
“Of course. It only makes sense.” Sherlock paused, then glanced up at them again. “Does she know I’m here?”
Mary nodded. “She does. She didn’t seem uncomfortable about it either. So as long as you behave yourself…”
Sherlock scrunched up his nose. “Oh relax, I’m not a child!” He looked at Rosie. “We don’t need mummy and daddy to tell us how to behave for Aunt Molly, do we?”
Rosie’s little blue eyes lit up. “Aunt Molly?”
“Yes darling, she’s coming to visit you,” Mary confirmed. “Once she gets here we can all have some pie!”
The little girl bounced up and down happily as she continued building, blissfully unaware of the slight shift in the room’s mood.
Mary walked back into the kitchen and John huddled near Sherlock. “You can be honest if this is too hard. I promise, one word from you and we don’t have to do this again. I was just hoping that maybe we’d all be able to find some sort of middle ground since y’know, it’s been about two years now.”
Sherlock forced a smile. “Exactly. There’s no reason why we can’t be perfectly comfortable in each other’s presence by now.”
For the next fifteen minutes Sherlock continued playing with Rosie, assuring himself that this was silly to waste a moment of thought on. What had happened two years ago was done now, and nothing could change that. Both of them had moved forward with their lives and were doing well. They would always get on well, because that’s just who they were. There was no reason for there to be awkwardness or hurt feelings simply because they’d had a sort of…something…for a few months.
Even when there was a knock on the cottage door and Rosie jumped up to answer the door with Mary, Sherlock was still managing to tell himself the same thing. This was perfectly fine. No problem at all.
And then the door opened.
Molly stepped inside, removing her coat and unwinding her scarf which tousled her wavy hair, cut to shoulder length now. And then she leaned down to pick up Rosie, who was bouncing at her feet, excitedly telling her about pie and building towers. Molly cuddled the little girl against her rather loud cardigan, beaming as she listened to every word. But then she turned.
That was about when Sherlock reminded himself to breathe, standing up from the floor as he remembered that Rosie had gotten some of the sauce from dinner on his shirt. He gave Molly a single nod, speaking softly.
“Hello, Molly.”
Her lips spread just a little and her eyes sparkled in a way that he was honestly not prepared for.
“Hi, Sherlock.”
It was over in a flash as Rosie ushered her into the kitchen to see the dessert, and he felt a bit like he’d just taken one of those lightning quick punches in the ring. The ones that you don’t really see coming until they hit you. And as she glanced at him for one more split second from the kitchen, he knew for certain.
This could be a much bigger problem than he anticipated.