Work Text:
You find yourself at my door,
Just like all those times before,
You wear your best apology,
But I was there to watch you leave.
- “The Last Time” Taylor Swift
“Sorry, love. -MH”
Sometimes, a sorry is one too many, and it loses its ability to placate when it is used too often. Molly Hooper didn’t know what to think or feel when the dreaded beep sounded or when she saw the all too familiar apology. She could feel the disappointment weighing heavily on her heart as her gaze ran through the words again.
He did this again. To her. On Christmas.
It was something to be expected, wasn’t it? It has been slightly over a year since they started a relationship and during this time, Molly couldn’t really recall a time when work didn’t crop up and he had to leave a date prematurely. Or he would be caught up with work in another part of the world while she was stuck here, pining for him, wishing to see him. In fact, they had spent lesser time together than they were apart for the duration of their relationship.
She knew he wasn’t easy to love, knew the relationship would be harder than she think, knew that his work would always be a priority. But knowing didn’t make any part of this easier. It seems like, it only made it harder and harder to forgive each time.
Molly closed her eyes, not willing to look at her screen again, and took a deep breath before changing out of the new dress that she had bought especially for the occasion. She thought, it would be the first proper date they would enjoy in months and it would only be right to dress up for it. She had imagined so many times how Mycroft would react or respond to her dress. But obviously, this is not important now since he isn’t going to turn up.
She could still feel the bitterness gnawing at her as she changed into her jumper and a pair of sweat pants. “Looks like it will just be us tonight.” Molly sighed as she scooped Toby up from the ground and nuzzled his neck, an action that always comforted her, though it didn’t seem to work very well tonight.
Molly settled into the couch, all wrapped up in an old blanket with Toby settling rather comfortably in her lap. She refused to look at the dinner table where she had already laid out the dinner that she had painstakingly prepared for the majority of the day.
She ignored the Christmas tree sitting in the corner of the room with the ever-changing fairy lights, she ignored the present that she had spent a great amount of time making and carefully wrapped. For all she knows, it would just sit under the tree and rot since he is definitely not going to make it tonight and she won’t know when would be the next time she sees him. Or if there would even be a next time.
Thinking about all these would only sadden her further and Molly don’t think she can deal with all the emotions that has been pent up over the course of months right now. All of a sudden, she feels exhausted and … defeated.
She sighed as she sipped tea from the cup that’s right beside the couch and watched Doctor Who on the telly as a form of distraction. What a way to spend Christmas, she laughed quietly, with a hint of bitterness in her laughter.
The laughter felt a little too loud in the silence of the house, in the absence of his presence.
Molly didn’t know how she fell asleep or how long she had slept, but she was woken up abruptly by the knocking of the door which proved to be persistent and getting more impatient.
“Coming,” Molly called out to the door in a sleepy voice, a little drowsy as she rubbed her eyes.
She staggered to the door, unsteadily, and when she pulled the door open, there stood Mycroft. Molly blinked. And he was still there, dressed in his usual sumptuous suit and with both hands gripping the handle of his brolly.
“Molly…” He started, but Molly cut him off immediately, giving him no opportunity to apologize or say whatever he was going to say.
“Do you know what day it was?” She asked, with her head to the ground, her voice barely a whisper but still sounded vaguely like an accusation.
Mycroft blinked, a little surprised at the very obvious question, “It’s Christmas…”
“And you left me to celebrate it on my own. You cancelled on me. Yet again.” She bit her lips as she looked up at him. “Yet again.” She repeated and something in her expression alarmed Mycroft. Was it the way her jaws were clenched, or was it the way her eyes looked at him? He couldn't tell and he couldn't stop the rising panic that he's feeling in his heart.
He fidgeted a little before straightening his back, an apologetic smile on his face,“I know, it’s my fault and I apologize for that. I have already cleared all my work but work cropped up and I hope you understand that conflicts don’t go on holidays as we do.” He leaned forward as he reached out to hold Molly’s hand but Molly took a step back from him, all the while with her eyes on him, intense.
“It’s also my dad’s death anniversary.” She said, her voice quiet and void of all emotions, something that made Mycroft uncomfortable. It was a tone he had never heard her use. It was as if … she was weary and thoroughly defeated.
“It would have been a great time, you know, celebrating Christmas and not having to think about my dad. Or at least make the pain bearable.” She looked away, not wanting to see the expressions on Mycroft’s face. She was afraid. That he would be indifferent to everything that she had said and assumed that she is making a fuss out of nothing.
Taken aback by the news, Mycroft opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say. “Molly. I …” He begun, and then closed his mouth, taking the moment to contemplate what would be the best words to say before he opened his mouth again. “I didn’t know. I am truly sorry for my actions, but had I known, I wouldn’t have left you alone. Really, Molly. I would.” He looked at her, with sincerity written on his face. But Molly was not falling for this.
She stared at Mycroft, “Would you?” Her tone accusatory.
“Would you, Mycroft? Would you?” She repeated herself, this time, her tone even harsher than before and her gaze hard on Mycroft’s face.
Silence filled the room in that moment as Mycroft couldn’t think of the words to say, to defend himself. Because he knew she needed his honesty and his answer wasn’t going to be what she wanted to hear.
Already knowing the answer from his hesitation and silence, Molly sighed, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.
“Mycroft, I love you.” She spoke, her tone now softer but her voice was filled with so much sorrow that Mycroft didn't know she was feeling. She blinked back her tears as she continued, “I truly do. But I am in love with a man who is never there. I accepted it from the beginning. I thought I knew how it would be like, the solitude, the endless fight for your attention. I thought I could take it all. But Mycroft, I cannot continue to be in a relationship with a man who is never there. I cannot wait for a man who is never going to make time for me. Not even once. Mycroft, I am not a greedy person. I only wish to be loved by you. I don’t need your constant attention, but Mycroft, I need someone who shows me he cares enough to want to be in my life.”
She breathed in deeply as she said the words again, “I cannot.” I cannot continue this relationship with you. I simply cannot. Those are the words she didn’t say and she didn’t need to because Mycroft knew it from her voice, from the way she had stepped away from him, from the look of utter disappointment on her face and from the way her gaze was boring into him.
And the words hit him harder than he had expected it to be. He didn’t expect the words to send the stabbing pains to his chest, he didn’t expect just how greatly he had disappointed the woman he promised to never let down. He didn’t anticipate any of these and for the first time in his life, he didn’t know how to react to such a fragile situation.
“I…”
“No more Mycroft.” She looked at him with tired eyes. “No more.” Her voice quieter than before.
Mycroft stilled, his heart silently shattering. He nodded in understanding as he shifted his gaze to the floor and he spoke, “I know, I haven’t been the best …. Whatever it is you wish to call, partner, boyfriend, or anything else. I know, I failed you in every aspect that I can think of, even though it is not what I wished for.” He tightened his grip on the umbrella handle as he continued, his voice wavering. “Molly, I love you, every much. And you know I am not a sentimental man who vocalizes his emotions all the time. I… may not have told you I love you many times. But if I don’t say it now, I will never get to say it again. Molly, I love you, and you have always mattered to me. And I failed you. I understand what you want of me right now. I do.”
He leaned in and cups her face gently in his hands, kissing her lightly on the forehead. It’s the last time.
Molly looked up at him with glassy eyes, tears threatening to overflow. “Thank you,” Her voice breaking as she whispered.
Mycroft stared at her face for a little longer before nodding and turning his back on her. “Merry Christmas, Miss Hooper.” If anyone said that they noticed the glistening in his eyes as he said that, he would not deny it. There was no use denying what was true.
“Merry Christmas, Mr Holmes.” Molly said softly, with her back turned as she closed the door, shutting him out completely. Then she felt her heart crashed to the floor at once.
This is the last time he would ever stand at her doorsteps.
This is the last time he would tell her he love her.
This is the last time.