Sherlolly: Sherlocks secret

ch 3

Molly paced about her livingroom, hands flying. "Why, Sherlock? Why do you always have to be like this?"

"Like what?" Sherlock scoffed, sitting down relaxed in a chair.

"You always say such horrible things! Always to me! It doesn't even get better when you try to cheer me up- you just makes things worse!" She cried, her voice gaining volume.

"Well maybe if you weren't so paranoied there wouldn't be any reason for me to cheer you up." He sneered.

"How can I not be? You've been so distant lately! I'm trying so hard to keep us together, Sherlock but sometimes It feels like you don't want to be together." Molly's breath hitched in her throat as she held back sobs.

"Molly, don't be stup-"

"Well, I am stupid! Okay? I'm stupid because I can't help but feel like this relationship is a joke to you. I'm stupid because I can't notice things like you. I'm stupid because I care! I'm stupid because I don't know everything. But one thing I do know is that I'll never compare to Irene in your eyes. I bet I don't even turn you on as much as Irene did!" She let the damn break. Tears were flowing freely now, each one leaving a salty wet path down her face till they dripped off her chin.

Sherlock stood up, coat flowing. His jaw was had and his fits were clenched. "No, you're not Irene! She was completely different! Confident, beautiful, smart and a mystery. You, you're just Molly. Plain old paranoid Molly."

All Molly's anger drained. She was left with nothing but an aching pain in her heart. This was it. This was the thing that would break her.

"Plain old Molly..." She whispered as she fell to the floor.

It seemed like all of her feeling poured into her tears. She sat there and cried for what seemed like forever. Sherlock kneeled infront of her. He looked torn, and sadness was etched upon his face.

"Molly, Molly I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of that. I didn't, honestly."

"Yes, you did. Even if you didn't, it's still true. I was never enough for you." A new wave of tears flowed from her eyes, creating a small puddle on the floor.

"No, Molly please-"

"Just go, Sherlock. Just, please, go. I'm sorry that I'm not beautiul, and I'm sorry that I'm not smart, or funny or even confident. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough for this. Most of all, I'm sorry you wasted you time on me." Molly buried her face in her hands and heaved more sobs.

Sherlock looked at her with regret in is eyes. But, without another word, he kissed the top of her head, stood up and walked out the door. The moment he was gone, she leaned against the wall and tried to cry out the rest of her tears. There seemed to be a river of them, a reminder of how broken she really was. As she leaned her head back against the walls, she culd only think of three words.

"Plain old Molly..." She whispered, before the sadness engulfed her again.