It had been six months since Sherlock had left Molly. He was not done routing Moriarty's operation, but he had some business in London to attend to. Being on the run, living from disguise to disguise was exciting at first. But the novelty quickly wore off. He had even met with Irene Adler, who was able to supply him with useful information about Moriarty's operatives. That information had led him to London. So very close to those he cared about.
Once again, Sherlock found himself sitting on Molly's couch, waiting for her to come home from work. He thought she'd like the surprise. She'd always loved the surprise parties her friends threw for her (the one that John dragged him to).
He was pacing up and down the flat now, mere minutes after he had broken in. Ever impatient for her return. He did not have to wait long though, because Molly had started taking shorter shifts. About 15 minutes after arriving, Sherlock her footsteps coming up the stairs and stopping at the door. He heard her curse and fumble with her keys, which he found strange as she'd never had problems with the lock before.
Finally the door swung open and there stood Molly, arms laden with groceries and looking like she'd swallowed a planet. When she finally looked up she yelped and dropped her bags. Sherlock saw it coming and deftly caught them.
"Hello Molly," he said as he put the groceries down properly. He took a moment to look at her. Her swollen stomach is what really captured his attention. He felt dumb. Absolutely thick. How could he have missed it? The vitamins on the counter, the magazines and books on the coffee table. He mentally slapped himself.
Molly seemed unable to form words. Sherlock was unsure what to do. She seemed in shock. He helped her to the sofa and sat down next to her.
"Why are you here?" She said at last.
"I. . .wanted to see you." Sherlock blinked. He could stop looking at her belly. A question burned in his mind. It drowned out almost all other thoughts. But still he couldn't bring himself to voice it yet. "I had business in London." She couldn't look at him, but he saw tears lining her cheeks.
"And then you'll leave again when your done?" Her voice was surprisingly even.
"Yes." Sherlock felt guilty. Without asking permission, he placed one hand on her stomach. He couldn't wait any longer. "Is it-"
"Yes, of course." Molly answered immediately. Now it was Sherlock's turn to avoid her gaze. He took his hand from her. "I-I never expected anything from you. I mean, I don't want you to feel obligated to do anything. I can do this on my own. I would've told you sooner but I had no way to contact you. And you were busy too and I didn't want to distract-" Sherlock cut her off by kissing her. It was a long kiss, filled with regret, and he realized how much he missed her.
Afterwards, he looked at her again. Studied her. Despite the bump, Molly looked quite thin. Her arms were more slender, her cheeks hollower, and her collar bone more prominent. Molly had always maintained a healthy weight before. Not only that, but she looked tired, worn.
"Molly, you don't look well," Sherlock said frowning at her state.
"The women in my family have never had easy pregnancies." Molly said and rubbed her belly. "The delivery should be fine, I mean the baby will be."
Sherlock stood up, distressed. He paced the length of the living room. His mind was turning furiously. He was trying to shut out the flood of emotions coursing through him. He could feel them clogging his veins and muddying his thoughts. On his own, on the run, he had to keep his wits sharp to survive. Now, being around Molly again, it reminded him of why he left. She was like a narcotic. He could not stay away from her.
What could he do? There was no way he could be an adequate father, even if he wasn't on the run and "dead". This was his fault. He'd lost his self-control. A smattering of exquisite nights, and he had forever changed their lives. Molly deserved better.
He wheeled around on his heels suddenly. "Molly." Sherlock strode over to her. "I'm going to set up an account for you. I've made quite a bit of money-"
"Sherlock you don't have to," she cut him off but he talked over her.
"It will be there if you need it." Molly started to protest again but Sherlock looked at her with that piercing gaze. The one he used when he was about to say something important and personal. Molly remained silent. "Please, Molly. It's all I can do right now."
She nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. Sherlock didn't know if it was due to her health or the pregnancy, but Molly never cried this much. It made him feel even more guilty. Once the tears were gone, Molly beckoned Sherlock back to the couch. As he sat down, a thought occurred to him.
"What did you tell people about the father?"
Molly smiled, as if amused at his concern. "I have been very secretive. My mother isn't very happy about that. I just tell people that father is no one they know and there's no point in telling him."
Sherlock knew that last part was true. If he hadn't decided to come here to her flat, he would have never known about the pregnancy. Molly was trying to be kind to him, keeping this from him. Why then did he ache? Maybe because he knew a life with Molly was something he would never be able to have. He would never be able to be happy, with a domestic life and being a consulting detective wouldn't provide a stable environment for a child. For the first time in Sherlock's life, he felt a fleeting desire for a normal life, an ordinary one.
He rose from the couch and helped Molly do the same.
"You're very clever, Molly. I'm sure you'll make a wonderful mother." Sherlock had grown accustomed to speaking to Molly in a strangely intimate way. But with this sentence he switched back to his usual brusque way of addressing people. Molly looked down, that same look of disappointment and sadness that he'd seen so many times before. To her credit, she didn't cry. Feeling guilty again, Sherlock leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.
Sherlock's POV was a challenge but I hope I pulled it off. I really loved writing it. I hope you all enjoyed it!