Work Text:
“You never went to a friend’s birthday party?” Molly asked incredulously.
“Nope”
“How?”
“My parents only sent me and to a grammar school when I was about eight and the children thereloathed me. No matter what age, people do not like to be proven wrong.
“You had no friends?” Molly asked, “How so?”
“Using my intellect, even as a child, it was the only way I could connect with others. It’s how me and Mycroft interacted. I couldn’t dumb myself down to an average child’s level. I was avoided mostly. The other children didn’t even try to talk to me anymore after the first month. Maybe if..” Sherlock seemed to only now notice that he was still talking and snapped his mouth shut quickly. He cleared his throat, a tinge of sadness in his eyes, betraying his otherwise composed features as he moved his attention to the already studied sample.
Molly looked at him, torn between being pleased with having yet again uncovered a missing piece to the 10000 piece Sherlock Holmes puzzle and pity. Molly had known he was a lonely man the minute he walked into her morgue and seemed to truly not know how to interact with her other than talking down to her and barking out orders. What she hadn’t ever stopped to consider was how long he had been that way or how he had even come to be like that.
“Must’ve been tough,” she tried, her voice cracking with the mere thought of little Sherlock all by himself because he didn’t know how to be different from what he was. Sherlock let out a scoff.
“I dealt with it. The way Mycroft taught me. They were all intellectually inferior and therefore I didn’twant them to interact with me, because they would never be able to understand anyway,” he rattled off as he kept his eyes focussed on the soil sample. Molly could sense him getting annoyed with her, or maybe, she thought, he just felt cornered.
“Misanthrope by choice, not conviction.” Molly gave him a sad smile when Sherlock peeked up at her and mirrored her action..
“It’s an easy choice, Molly. You either work and concern yourself to death with every little person’s emotions and expectations of you, or you just decide not to give a damn.” He straightened up on his chair and reached for his jacket on the chair next to him, about to leave.
“I don’t think it works that way,” Molly said and Sherlock froze, looking at her curiously.
“Why not?”
“Because if it did, you’d be the happiest man in the universe, wouldn’t you.”
“Who says I’m not?” He quiped and Molly shot him a meaningful look, “Point taken.” Sherlock didn’t say a word as he seemed to measure Molly from head to toe. Molly on her side, tried her damnest to not look or cringe away as he did. “What’s your theory on why I am the way I am?” he asked. Molly’s eyes widened in surprise.
“I don’t…” She stammered and finally gave in to her need to look away.
“Molly, please. You see me when nobody else is looking, don’t you? Call it a mental exercise.”
Molly was quiet as she dared to look at him again, looking him over like he had her just seconds ago, gathering her thoughts and memories of the man before her. Sherlock didn’t move as she did, looking at her with a mix of expectation and skeptisism.. The realisation hit Molly like a freight train.
“You can’t stand dissapointment.”, she started ,“Not you being dissapointed, of course. You lovethat,” she chuckled,” It gives you another confirmation that you chose right in choosing brains over friends. “You can’t stand dissapointing others. You couldn’t dissapoint John by not being as brilliant as you made him believe. You told me once that you rarely see your parents not because you claim that they don’t understand. But that’s not true, is it? You’re scared to actually build up a relationship with them because with a relationship comes expectations. You’re scared that you can’t be a good enough son to them so you cut them out completely. You’re even scared to dissapoint your brother” Sherlock scoffed at her words but Molly powered through,“Because if you weren’t, you wouldn’t be trying so hard to be as unaffected by everything as he shows to be. Which you can’t be. Because after all this time I’ve known you, a faked suicide, a relapse and a shot in the chest to keep your best friend’s wife safe, I can assure you that you actually do have a heart. Quite a big one from what I’ve seen.” Sherlock swallowed visibly, taking in all her observations. Molly felt quite proud of herself. In a way, she felt she had deduced him and for some reason she couldn’t explain she didn’t doubt that she was right about everything. Including that he had a big heart. People don’t jump off of buildings and were ready to face a suicide mission for their friends if they don’t have a heart. The people in it would forever have him jumping through fire for them. Molly didn’t know if she was a part of that, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She had seen him change so much since they had met and despite all the harsh words and false flirtations, the only sentiment she could feel for him at that moment was pride.
“You’re getting sentimental, Molly. I’d advice you to not do that,” Sherlock said, his voice hitching slighly as he tried to maintain his stoic expression.
“Why?” She cocked her head slightly, as if to challenge her deductions.
“You might be-”
“Dissapointed?” Molly laughed “Sherlock Holmes, if you haven’t dissapointed me by now, I don’t think you’ll ever can.” Sherlock let out an astonished chuckle. He moved around the labtable until he was in front of her and cupped her cheeks in both hands. Molly held her breath as he leaned closer and pressed his forehead on hers. She closed her eyes as she felt his warm breath tickle her lips, and smiled slightly.
“Thank you, Molly Hooper,” Sherlock said. When Molly opened her eyes she was looking right into his. He mirrored her smile for a brief second before pressing a kiss to her forehead and lingering for a second. He moved away with one last smile, made sure his jacked was buttonned and strode out of the lab without another word.
Molly watched him go, the tiny smile still marking her lips as she finally managed to tear her eyes away from the now closed door and continuing her work.