You Mean the World to Me (Sherlolly)

Chapter 9

(Molly)

I woke suddenly, looking around in confusion. After many nights of waking to white walls in a hospital bed, it was strange to awake in a dark room covered in a comforter. But slowly I remembered. I quickly sat up not really wanting to leave the room in fear of how awkward this would be, meeting John, but I carried on anyway.

Pulling my hair up into a messy ponytail, and slipping on a jacket and some shoes from my spot seated on the edge of the bed, I silently grabbed my crutches from beside Sherlock's be sand hefted myself up to a standing position. With the crutches wedged under my armpits, I buttoned the jacket and grabbed a pair of pants out of my bags. Quietly I sat back down and slipped on the jeans, and folded the pajama pants to set on the end of the bed.

Once more I lifted myself up and started hopping out the door, awkwardly positioning myself to keep the door open while I hobbled out. Sherlock was sitting in his chair in silence, and I wondered if that was a usual thing. John was making tea in the kitchen. I found myself suddenly realizing how loud my crutches were against the floor.

I tried to maneuver them quieter, but John was still easily aware of my presence long before I poked around the hallway.

He looked up at me with a slight smile and I felt myself calming slightly. Sherlock looked over at me and gave a nod towards the couch. "Have a seat. John's making breakfast."

I seated myself awkwardly, considering just leaving and giving up this whole dumb idea, though I'm not sure why.

I wasn't sure how long I was considering this because suddenly a plate of eggs was being set in front of me along with a mug full of tea. "Th-thank you.." I told the man in a voice of awkward gracefulness. He gave another smile and nodded before moving to sit down in his own chair, watching me for a moment while I poked at the eggs, feeling weird to eat.

"How are you feeling, Molly?" Sherlock finally asked, as if annoyed himself by the silence.

"I'm um.. Okay.. Er, my leg hurts but I mean that's to be expected.. It's broken.." I trailed off, quieting my stupid comments, but John just nodded, before speaking up himself.

"So, you have amnesia, right?" He asked, sounding like he was just fact checking something he already knew. He didn't sound angry but I found myself nervous all the same.

"Yeah, that's.. what the doctors told me."

He nodded a little, seeming sympathetic towards me. Then he glanced towards Sherlock, and some sort of unspoken thing flashed between them.

"Does Andy know you're here?" John asked finally.

I was silent for a little while.

"Uh.. not.. really. Kind of." I bit my lip, staring at their floor. I suddenly felt really bad, though I know that's not what John meant. Well, he did, but I think he meant it towards Sherlock.

At least, that's what it seemed.

But I found myself once again aware that I had a boyfriend and just because I have no real memory of him, doesn't mean I get to forget him altogether.

"You're fine, Molly." Sherlock said, without looking up. I still felt bad. Not towards either of them, just at myself.

I stood up with my half eaten plate of food and used one of the crutches to get myself the couple feet over to the sink where I slowly started washing the dishes. No one stopped me.

***

Later that day Sherlock proposed we go down to the morgue, to show me where I worked. I explained I'd already seen it with Andy and he shrugged and handed me my coat anyway.