Lo Stesso Tempo (Sherlolly)

Chapter Thirteen

Past

Molly stood alone by the grave. Her dad was gone. It hadn't been sudden. People said she should be thankful that she had time to say goodbye, unlike with her mum. But she didn't feel thankful. It didn't make it any easier to have time. She'd had to watch him wither away and suffer through the pain.

He'd kept up a good act for a long time. Few people knew how sick he was until it couldn't be hidden anymore. And then all the sympathy and phone calls and cards had started coming in. The constant visits and people asking if they needed anything. In the last month, it had increased. Molly had found herself feeling angry. She had this selfish desire to have her dad all to herself during his last days. But he was a people person and even on his deathbed he never turned anyone away. 

But now he was gone. She pushed away her tears and with them the urge to let her memories wash over her. She looked up with a sigh. In London of all places one would think it would rain for a funeral. But today was a day of rare sunlight and warm breezes.

"May I?" A voice asked softly. Molly nodded, sighing to make it clear that she would rather be alone. "Or I can leave..."

She wiped her eyes again and frowned, looking over at the sound of the familiar rumble. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. Bloodshot blue eyes stared down at her, the dark brows quirked in a question. 

"Sherlock?"

"Last I checked, yes." He smiled slightly but it disappeared as he nervously bit his lower lip. 

"Are you clean?" She looked him over, taking in his dramatic weight loss and the way he kept sniffling. "Never mind, you're not."

He tilted his head in confirmation. His clothes hung loosely on his frame and his hair lay in a tangled mop over his forehead. He had his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked like he needed a good meal and a night in a real bed. She frowned and looked down at her father's grave. He would hate to see Sherlock like this. Though he'd only met him twice, her dad had expressed an odd fondness for Sherlock. 

"He's a strange one but he's a little funny. I guess I see why you like him..." He'd shrugged and sipped his beer. 

Molly jumped as a finger brushed her cheek. She wiped her eyes, realizing she was crying again. Stepping towards Sherlock, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. He tensed and stood still for a long moment. When she didn't let go and her entire body shuddered with sobs, he got the message and wrapped his arms around her. 

Sherlock sighed quietly and buried his face in Molly's hair. He didn't entirely understand what was so devastating about the death of her father. Yes, he supposed she would miss him and all but it had been a long time coming and he would have died before her anyway. But if she wanted him here, he would stay to help her. There wasn't anything he could do either way. He sighed again, though this time in pleasure more than anything else. He'd never thought it would feel so nice to hold her. She stopped crying and pulled away with a mumbled apology. He reluctantly let her go. 

"You can stay in our flat for a few nights."

"I don't need a place to stay." He frowned. 

Molly glared at him and he nodded, getting the point. She needed someone to take care of and she wouldn't forgive herself if she let him go after so long. He followed her to the main road.

"Won't your boyfriend mind?"

"How'd you know I have a boyfriend?"

"You've put on weight since I last saw you. So it's serious then..." Something twisted in his chest but he wasn't familiar with the feeling so he ignored it.