Sherlock had been abusing his violin for
over a week and John was at his wit’s end.
As far as John could tell Sherlock hadn’t bathed, slept, or eaten. He had forgotten how hard it was to live with
the consulting detective 24/7. At times
he wondered if Sherlock was being a pill deliberately to push John into
returning to his wife, but he remembered that Sherlock was to self-interested
to waste his violin’s screeching on anyone else.
“Oi,” John started at his roommate using a loud voice to overcome the cacophony coming from the ill-used instrument, “I know you’re bored but you have got to find something else to do.”
“I am doing something. I’m on a case.” Sherlock dragged his bow across the instrument’s body.
“No, I checked with Lestrade and you haven’t even checked your computer or your phone for days. What case could you possibly be working on that you haven’t let me in on?”
Sherlock gave his signature look of disgust and rolled his eyes, “It’s a personal case.”
“Personal?” John asked in disbelief.
Sherlock struck his violin causing a discordant sound and refused to answer. The two men stared at each other in a battle of wills. John changed his stance and threw up his hands in defeat.
“Fine. Do what you will, you always do anyways.”
Sherlock huffed and threw himself into his chair after placing his violin on the side table. As soon as Sherlock had let go of the accursed instrument John took the opportunity to grab it up.
“Oh how childish John.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.
“No, no what’s childish is a grown man playing his violin and driving his flat-mate and landlady absolutely out of their minds!” John said in an escalating voice.
“You’re a guest not a flat-mate.”
John cocked hi head to the side and squinted his eyes, “What was that then?”
“You understood me perfectly. You can go back to your wife at anytime, you don’t have to be here.”
“We’ve been through this, this is not something you get to control or decide. You act as if I dumped you.”
Sherlock groaned and stood up only to cross the room and throw himself onto the couch. Once there he curled up in a ball toward the wall in true Sherlockian fashion. Mumbling to himself that he hadn’t been dumped and proceeded to reason that it wasn’t a dumping if the other party was unaware of the relationship.
“Sherlock…Sherlock…” John’s voice grew in volume, “Sherlock are you bloody listening?”
“What is it John!” Sherlock looked over his shoulder and snapped at his friend.
“You need to get out of the house. Take a shower, go get some chips, something! Nothing strenuous, no running after criminals but do something, doctor’s orders.”
“Why don’t you go to Bart’s and do some experiments? You may not be able to take field cases but you can find something to interest you there.”
Sherlock knew there was something interesting there, which was his problem. He turned his head back to face the couch. “I told you. I’m working on something.”
“Well let me help. Maybe you need some insight from another point of view.” John added with a side nod.
Sherlock curled his lip in disgust, John was right but Sherlock didn’t feel it was the time to talk to John about his relationship issues when he was having some of his own. He also wasn’t ready for his friend’s laughter at his predicament.
“Maybe clearing your mind will help. Go to Bart’s.” John continued to needle his best friend.
“Out of the question!” barked out an irritated Sherlock.
“Well maybe Molly can bring you some spare body parts?”
“I told you John, I AM BUSY.”
“No, you’re moping. That’s not being busy.” It was at that point John decided to give up. He headed out the door and Sherlock’s head perked up.
“Where are you going with my violin?”
“To work. You’ll get it back when you’re out of this strop you’re in.” John started to run down the stairs with Sherlock attempting to pursue.
“John you can’t do that! Get back here!” Sherlock didn’t get far when he stumbled over his open house coat and fell. John was then able to make his get away, which left Sherlock to plot his two hundred fifty third way of how he could possibly kill John Watson.
His phone alerted him to a text ten minutes later, which roused him from the floor.
JW: I texted Molly. She’s bringing you a pair of kidneys and a spleen after her shift. She’s going to check on you. If you are cleaned up and someone witnesses you eat your violin will be returned.
Sherlock cursed his friend’s meddling ways. He had no idea what Sherlock was going through but had somehow found the one way to spur Sherlock into action. Sherlock quickly figured out what day it was and knew Molly was scheduled to get off at seven. This would give him ample time to clean himself and get out of the house before she came.
He had examined his current situation continually backwards and forwards. He finally came to the conclusion that the bigger part of the blame for the existing circumstances he was experiencing probably fell on him. Molly’s agreement with his unspoken proposal was due to his past ‘not good’ behaviors. After conceding that point he realized he had the perfect opportunity to slither out of his commitment with no one the wiser. Of course Molly, lovely woman that she was, would wonder what had transpired but would wait for him to bring it up when he wanted to, which he never would.
‘But,’ a small unrecognizable voice in his mind said, ‘what if she buries it down like she has done in the past and thinks she’s not important to you?’ The memory of holding her while she cried haunted his mind. She didn’t cry over what had been done for her but cried over what she had perceived as a crime against him, at least that was when the tears had really started.
Now that Sherlock was standing back from the issue at hand he could see a myriad of reasons of why he shouldn’t pursue a marriage with Molly Hooper. The almost proposal had not been as well thought through as he had thought. While all the positive evidence existed to marriage being the best possible answer to their position, cons of such a merger had also made themselves known.
Of course Sherlock knew that Molly was important, she counted, she mattered, and a number of other phrases that could be added to her definition, but what that exactly meant Sherlock had never thought of until that day in the lab. He had never wanted or felt the need to explore what it meant that Molly Hooper mattered to him. He just knew that she was always there for him and he would always want her to be there.
When he had started to think that perhaps she would go through with the Tom thing he had been at a loss. It took looking at Mary’s bating him to realize that he was jealous and afraid of losing something he thought he could never lose. He was supposed to be the only man in Molly’s life! They shared interests and she could usually keep up with him on an intellectual level, more so than anyone else. She could put up with him and calm him down like no one else. She could put him in his place and made him want to be better, not that he would admit it to anyone.
He enjoyed it when she blushed and dare he say it, she was cute. In fact he thought that she was quite pretty (if not in the traditional sense), despite her lack of fashion sense. He also enjoyed giving her kisses and had been looking forward to doing more when he thought they were engaged. He had been relieved (and ashamed) that the gift at Christmas had been for him. It was the first time he had deduced a sincere interest in a man and he couldn’t and didn’t handle it well. She admonished him but didn’t fail to help him later. She had saved his life multiple times and never sought out a reward, she helped because she genuinely cared for him. He could trust her with his life and those of his friends. In return she also trusted him (most of the time) and she believed in him. She was one of the strongest people he knew.
Mummy and Papa would love her. There was the added bonus that with her in his life he would never have to go to a musical again; he could just send her in his stead. Instead of playing his violin solo all the time he could make room to allow her to accompany him on the piano from time to time. That could give him new challenges for writing music. He would have a built in potential dance partner if she was amenable to the arrangement and he could give into his secret indulgence without fear of mockery.
Neither of them were the best at social interactions. He granted that she was the better of the two and was much better at picking up what others were feeling and how to act accordingly. It was another way she could be of use to him. She was the only one of the opposite sex that would put up with him long term (Mummy and Mrs. Hudson didn’t count) and the only one he wanted long term.
So it was with these reasons and a few more that he figured out that the answer to their relationship status would be to get married. He had unintentionally internally argued with Molly that it was an inevitable outcome to their long acquaintance and listed the benefits that would come to succumbing to their shared fate. The first thing he stated was that he needed a permanent roommate and it would save her money. He said that he would be happy and able to fully support her and any offspring that they had if they chose to pro-create. He also felt the need to assure her that he was neither gay nor asexual and within the confines of marriage he would allow his transport to seek out an end to his needs. He agreed to make concessions such as allowing her cat to reside with them. He presented his case that there was no need to any of the dating nonsense, as they had known each other for years, and they could get married as soon as (and as privately) as possible. He then asked if she had agreed, (out loud) and she had.
Part of him wanted to hold her to her agreement out of spite, and his life would be easier that way. He had felt settled and was happy that they were so comfortable with each other that night despite the hard subject matter that they had been forced to face. They had been able to focus on the Magnussen issue without the girly squeals of excitement. The change in their new relationship had worked out better than expected.
There was always something he missed.
When he had actually understood what had transpired he felt physical pain or something akin to such. He left quickly without a word and didn’t need John Watson to tell him just how not good that truly was.
When he had gotten home and was alone he threw a major Sherlock fit. He smoked until John arrived home that night and confiscated his cigarettes. He threw on nicotine patches and contemplated looking for a stronger fix but felt like he would have been cheating on his future wife to do so. (They jury was still out on whether Molly keeping him away from drugs was actually a positive thing.) He then reminded himself that Molly was not in fact his future bride…no too romantic…future wife and that she never could be. After that all the reasons came to him of how they could never work and all the logic tried to beat out the reasons for pursuing Molly. And so he alternated between the pros and cons of seeking out matrimony to the only one for him. He had no way to determine to proceed.
The only thing Sherlock knew with any certainty was that he was not ready to face Molly, so he readied himself to leave the flat. Even after spending an hour cleaning himself up he still had a plethora of time before Molly would appear. He headed down the stairs but was headed off by Mrs. Hudson who popped out to check on her adopted son when she had heard him emerge.
“Hoo hoo Sherlock. Oh it’s so good to see you cleaned up. Even better that you stopped abusing your poor violin,” the elderly lady nodded to herself. “Would you like me to fix you something to eat? You really should eat,” concern poured from the motherly figure.
“I’m headed out.”
“What should I tell John dear?”
“Not to wait up.” And with that Sherlock was out the door with no idea to where he was going.
As he walked up the street he started to go through the list of resources he could use to help him come to a decision. He began with Mrs. Hudson because he had just left her presence. She was quickly crossed off the list, her own life choices, such as marrying a drug dealer and exotic dancing, proved that she was not someone to seek advice from. He had already discounted Dr. Watson. Graham Lestrade was unable to make wise relationship counsel as he had been married to a serial adulterer at one point. There was no one else at the NSY he counted worthy to be on his list. He had a way to contact the woman and she knew what people wanted but he did not want to clue her in on his pathologist’s existence. He trusted his Molly but feared she would be too much of a temptation for the woman not to try to poach his woman. Mycroft would only be included in his decision to wed after the final decision was already made, this would only be done in order to have the paperwork done quickly. Mummy and Papa were good choices for sound marital advice but Mummy would have a bias, as she wanted grandchildren. Wiggins also didn’t make the cut and neither did the other irregulars including Robin. Robin was one of his most trusted irregulars but she had an infatuation on the detective so she was crossed off the list.
This left only one person. Since she knew more about Molly than the rest it made her the perfect candidate…as long as she didn’t shoot him again.