Deerstalker - a Sherlolly story

A Walk in the Park

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“…so my parents keep asking about you. My mom even said you could come to dinner on Friday.” Molly told Sherlock while they sat on the wooden bench overlooking the pond. Every now and then she would throw pieces of bread in the direction of the ducks. “I haven’t given her an answer yet, so you…”

Molly fell silent as she looked up at Sherlock. His eyes trained far off in the distance and  the little crinkle on his forehead, let her know he was lost in his own world again.

“Sherlock. What’s wrong?” She let out an exasperated breath as she put a gentle hand on his knee.  No reply.

When she was certain she wouldn’t receive some sort of belated response, she spoke; “Sherlock, I know that look. Something is seriously wrong. You’re not going to fool me, so just explain. Does it have something to do with what’s going on in town? With Rob?”

Again this question was followed by a long period of silence, his leg completely motionless underneath her hand. Still, eventually Sherlock removed his eyes from his endless horizon and answered her; “It’s not just Rob. It’s all of it. The mystery, the chase, the danger. I’ve been careless. I knew that eventually you would be in danger as well, but I decided to be stubborn. Now I realize I shouldn’t have. We shouldn’t be together, for your own good.”

“Wh-What?” Molly felt as if she had just been slapped in the face. She hadn’t expected some sort of sugar-coatedreply, but she couldn’t even make sense of where this answer was coming from. Yet, it stung. Hard.

“You don’t understand Molly. It’s not just this one time. Maybe Rob will be caught and he will never be able to threaten you and we can all go on pretending everything is fine and dandy. But another threat will follow. Another mystery. Another danger, because that’s what I live for. I find trouble, before it finds me. I’m the danger.”

“Sherlock, I do understand. Things can be dangerous. But we’ve been through them before. Remember the fire? Or the hospital with Phil? I was the one who pointed out Rob. You might be ‘danger’, Sherlock. But you’re also my boyfriend, my best friend even. I like- love – being with you and if that means we have to face some trouble together, that’s worth it.” The words rolled of her tongue clipped and clear. She knew that he wasn’t kidding around about the danger, Rob probably had threatened her. Sherlock didn’t lie about these things. Yet, recklessly, she wouldn’t let him talk her down. She hadn’t gone through all of it with him for that.

“Molly,” he began to reply. His eyes were filled with a strange kind of compassion and his mouth was turned up in a half smile. “Come on, we’re never going to work, are we? That wasn’t ‘some’ trouble we went through, we’ve been dysfunctional from the very start. It’s not like everyone is saying those things about us without a reason.”

“They are. Because they don’t see us sitting here all afternoon  talking about ducks and ghost stories and your mom’s pie. Maybe we’re not perfect, but please realize that nothing is. Sherlock, I really care about you and you can’t just pretend like that doesn’t mean anything,” Molly pleaded. She hated the way he looked at her. It made her want to scream and slap him, just to show that they weren’t some lost cause. To fight with him, to prove they were something worth fighting for.

“That’s exactly the problem. You care so much and that’s why you don’t deserve this. Let’s face it, I’m an asshole. You lost all your friends because of me, I sometimes disappear without saying a word, I never listen when you speak and when I do I just reply with harsh remarks, I don’t give you massive teddy bears…..” He replied, his voice lacking emotion and his posture nonchalant. Somehow it seemed as if he was reciting his usual grocery list.

“You’re different, Sherlock. And that’s why I like you,” Molly pleaded with desperation in her voice. She could feel all the rage inside her turn into complete hopelessness.

“You don’t,” He began, dropping his casual demeanor and painting that pitying half-smile on his face once more. “You like the idea of me. You like to think I’m concealing a great, caring heart. But honestly, I don’t have one.”

Molly slowly feel defeat wash over her. Sherlock had made up his mind and Molly knew that whenever he did, there was no use in trying to change.

Still, because she deep-down couldn’t believe in this sudden complete change of heart, she said; “Maybe we’re both just having a bad day. Let’s just go home and….”

Before she had the chance to finish, Sherlock got up. “That seems like a great idea. Go home. Leave with Meena this weekend. See your old friends. Forget about us.”

Molly could already feel him slipping away from her. His voice sounded tired, meant for lost causes, and she could see him getting lost in his own universe again.

“Sherlock, I-“ Again she was interrupted.

“Molly, promise me one thing?” He asked as he trained his eyes on hers for the last time.

“Yes?”

“Stop believing in me,” He slowly spelled out the words and leaned down a little. Then his lips were on her forehead, pressing down softly. Too soon he was gone again, leaving only this soft caress to remember him by.

Then he turned around, turned up the collar of his leather jacket and left her on that bench that was too big for one. Minutes, maybe hours passed before Molly replied to the cold wind; “But, what if I can’t?”