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Sebastian's back hurt when he woke up. A night on the couch could do that to a man. He didn't really feel rested. His insomnia smacked him in the face even more now that he didn't have Molly to hold onto. He didn't have Jim's permission to touch her… as stupid as it sounded, he couldn't figure out how to get past that yet. He hoped that he could figure out how, and then instantly felt guilty for that thought.
"Good morning," Molly said, her voice quiet. She looked tired, and she didn't bother to hide it. Had she cried the previous night? When she was alone in her room? Or were her red eyes just leftovers from her earlier cry combined with a sleepless night. It occurred to him that in one day she'd lost two of the people she was closest too: Jim, and Sherlock fucking Holmes.
That thought got him up off the sofa and had him dragging Molly into a hug. It wasn't that he liked Sherlock Holmes, or that he felt anything but a very bitter happiness about the detective's death, but he hated that Molly had to be torn up over both people. She would be the only one. No one else could love both madmen. She had loved Sherlock fucking Holmes… not like Jim… well, yes, maybe like Jim, at least for a while. She'd been Holmes' friend. She got to suffer the loss of two people, not just one.
"I love you, Ms. Hooper," Sebastian said. The words felt weird coming out of his mouth. He'd never admitted out loud to her that during his waking nights he would daydream about her when he wasn't thinking of work. He'd never admitted how much he treasured their few dates, and the nights they spent cuddled up. He'd never admitted to her that sometimes he was so jealous for Jim for being the object of her affection that he'd actually think about taking his pistol and shooting Jim Moriarty's brain's out.
And yet when he finally got around to saying the words that had always been too dangerous to tell her, he still fucked it up. He'd felt like he'd pulled some kind of verbal slip. She'd at least called him Sebastian. He couldn't even say he first name. He felt torn up over the current situation. He felt wrong for saying the words under the influence of grief and exhaustion, and not whispered over a romantic dinner or between the sheets.
And yet Molly smiled up at him. She looked so sad, but his words seemed to soothe something in her. He felt her just previously stiff form relax and her thin arms slip around his thick body. She pressed her cheek to his chest, holding him like a cross between a stuffed toy, a favorite pet, and a real boyfriend. She just held him, and he could feel her chest rise and fall in counter balance to his. They stood there, just holding onto each other in a way that was more than just comforting, and yet less than just a warm embrace. Slowly their breathing started to align until their inhaled and exhaled at the same moment.
They didn't stand that way for very long. They couldn't afford the emotional confusion and complication. Molly unwound from Sebastian's embrace, and looked up at him, still smiling. "Come down here where I can see you," she said.
Sebastian snorted light and shook his head, bending down a bit. It wasn't his fault that she was so small. She'd always been perfectly Jim-sized. Without her heels she was a little shorter than Jim, perfect for such a petit man. Yet Sebastian was just very large. He was all muscles and strength, but he was very tall and wide according to what he needed to for his job.
When Sebastian had practically bent himself in half he smirked. "Now what?" he asked. Then he felt the soft and chapped lips press to his cheek. "Oh," he said, finding that he was blushing. He didn't do it often, but Molly seemed to make him do it more often.
"It took you long enough to say it," she said. She stroked his cheek and smiled at him. He waited for a moment, wondering what else she would say. Yet no other words followed. He straightened up and slipped his hands into his pockets. He idly thought that his first time telling a woman that he loved her could have gone better. She could have at least told him that she liked spending time with him. Too bad for him Molly wasn't disingenuine like that.
"So, breakfast?" Sebastian asked. His stomach clenched at the idea, but he knew he couldn't let himself just go to hell. No matter what he'd told Molly, he wanted to try and hold the organization together a little longer. It would all fall apart, but if Sebastian did a bit for work he could make a killing before it collapsed.
He'd never really cared about money. He still had a lot of what Jim had paid him, just because Jim also bought him just about everything. He didn't have any reason to spend anything, and Sebastian could become a lazy ex-officer and live off the interest of the money in the bank for the rest of his life, if he wanted.
What he really wanted… well, he didn't know yet. He'd play Moriarty's empire for cash just because he couldn't think of any other sane reason to want to break his brain trying to keep those tangled webs together for any length of time. There was a reason that was insane, but he wasn't willing to touch that reason yet.
"Oatmeal," Molly said, going to get the box of instant.
"Any good?"
"No, but then I'm only acceptable, remember?" she asked. That had been Jim's final pronunciation on her over all food preparation skills after months of work with Sebastian.
"My standards are a lot less insane than his," Sebastian said. He was carefully censoring himself, he could tell. He just didn't care.
"Yeah, I know," Molly said, pouring water in one of her pots. "I think… I think I can get you in to see his body, at least for a moment, if you want."
"If I want?"
"You'll have to come to visit," she said, the apology in her voice. She knew how he felt about dead bodies. He could deal with them. He was very good at dealing with them, he just didn't really enjoy body disposal.
"What happened to the men of Mycroft Holmes coming out of the woodwork to get me if I get near him?" Sebastian asked.
"Mycroft only has a minor position in the government," Molly said, her eyebrows knitting together.
Sebastian snorted. "I hate to ruin your illusions, but Mycroft Holmes runs the British Government like Moriarty runs the underworld." He had to laugh at Molly's shocked expression. "Anyway, how do I get in?"
Molly glared at him, and he smiled innocently. She was pissed at him for not giving her enough time to absorb about Mycroft. Too bad. "I'm going to do a check over of the body, just in case. It's not rare, and I think given… I think they'll appreciate it if I do. If you come by about noon you can see him… and then we'll go to lunch."
"How does lunch figure into this?" his stomach was already rolling at the thought. He knew she was weird, but to jump from talking about a dead body to food was insane.
"It's how you're getting in. You're going to tell me that you're my boyfriend and that you're picking me up to try and be nice because… because you know about Sherlock."
"Oh," Sebastian said. His stomach was doing funny little spinny knots at the thought of being domestic enough to be her boyfriend. "Oh," he said again, his tone very different. He looked a bit unsure of how to ask, so Molly sighed.
"I did his autopsy first… they…. Found… him first, after all," she said devastation clear on her face.
"Here," Sebastian said, slipping his arms around her for a moment before guiding her to the kitchen table. "I'll make breakfast. Do you have any fruit?"
"Some apples," Molly said softly, sitting down as directed.
"Good," Sebastian said, grabbing the apples to start cutting them up. "Just rest Molly, it's going to be a long day."