Work Text:
Molly Hooper sighed, unlocking the door to her flat.
It had been a year after the fall, and the suicide of the 'fake' genius, Sherlock Holmes.
Setting her coat down on a vacant chair, she settled down into onto the couch, putting an arm behind her head and the other across her
didn't particularly enjoy the silence, it helped her remember, remember things that she would rather forget.
Closing her eyes, she began to see Jim, her Jim. His smile, his awkward way of speaking to her, and more aggressively, their conversations.
Going back through their conversations, she now realized that there had been a few things that should have tipped her off about him, like the
way he always cursed at his phone when he received a message.
Now that she thought about it, the way his eyes darkened and the subtle quirk of the side of his mouth when she began telling him about who
had come into the morgue that day, should have been a slight indicator towards what was to come.
After the fall, she had read the papers that informed her of Moriarty's kills.
Had she known then what she knows now, she probably wouldn't have done anything differently, except maybe let him know that she
accepted him. She knows that sounds completely crazy, but she truly felt something for Jim Moriarty.
She constantly thought back of what might have been. The thought that she could have maybe helped him somehow, always crosses her
mind, even when she tries to push the thought away. It never leaves her.
He's everywhere. Jim Moriarty and Jim from IT cross her mind everyday.
She's not as naive to say that she 'loves' him, because she knows that he would not return the sentiment. Stretching, she turns to lay on her
side, facing the back of the couch. Toby hops up onto the furniture, hoping to curl up with Molly. She smiles, reaching for him, pulling him close
to her chest. Resting her chin atop his neck, she closed her eyes attempting in vain at having a good nights sleep for once.