A bad day, she thinks as her bag slips off her shoulder and she shrugs out of her jacket, letting it pool on the floor by her door. She scoffs to herself.

A bad day doesn't cover it.

She would usually never leave her things on the floor near the door as she has but she doesn't even remember how she's gotten home.

She immediately goes to her kitchen and automatically puts the kettle on, a habit of years and years of bad days. She lays out her necessities, cup, lemon and honey all waiting for her. As she waits for the kettle to boil, she sees the image flash before her eyes again. The scorched corpses of two children killed in a car accident. She braces herself against the counter. She feel herself teetering on the edge, a black abyss just waiting for her on the other side. No, not an abyss. An endless dark chaos and she knows that if she gives in, she may never get out.

She perches her elbow on the sink counter and presses her palms firmly against her eyes, feeling the moisture on her palms, willing them to go back. She takes a deep breath and she feels herself regain her balance just a little bit.

Another deep breathe. She starts to feel the wild dark chaos subside a little bit, no longer lapping at the edge of the precipice that she's on.

Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth. She feels her hands begin to dry as the tears subside.

As she exhales, she feels the tight knot around her heart give a little bit, allowing her to breathe a little more deeply and loosen the tension that wrapped around her body.

Another breat-

The ringing of her phone breaks the silence that her concentration has placed her in. She glances back to where she has haphazardly left her phone on the kitchen island. A glance lets her know who it is right away. She takes a sharp inhale.

As she turns her body, she spots her lemon waiting for her on the cutting board, whole. She breathes a small sigh of relief. An excuse, a distraction.

She grabs her knife and cuts a piece of lemon with more vigor that the task requires. She looks around a bit before she turns to her cupboard and grabs the sugar. As she places it down on the counter, each vibration of her phone pierces through her pretense of calm and she can't help but send her phone a quick glare.

She feels her fingers twitch as she glances at the name on the screen. She busies herself with squeezing the lemon in her empty cup.

As the vibration stops, she feels her shoulders sag.

She continues squeezing the lemon, much less aggressively. She's safe now –

Ringggg

The sound surprises her as much as a gunshot would.

Sherlock never calls twice. Not unless it's an emergency. She stares at her phone, for a minute, pretending that she's able to exercise her free will before she throws down the lemon piece she's cut and wipes her hands on her hand towel.

She picks up the phone.

"Hello Sherlock. Is this urgent because I'm not having a good day" She phrases the question but it's not a question at all.

His deep voice speaks from the other end.

"Molly, I just want you to do something very easy for me and not ask why."

She rolls her eyes. This is not what she needs right now.

"Oh, gosh. Is this one of your stupid games?"

"No, it's not a game. I need you to help me."

She can feel the anger rising and it's almost a welcome relief. Anger at Sherlock is familiar. It's safe.

"I'm not at the lab."

"Its not about that."

She waits for him to speak.

"Well… quickly then." She is much more curt towards him than she usually is. She feels a twinge of guilt. "Sherlock. What is it? What do you want?"

"Molly, please, without asking why, just say these words."

"What words?"

There is a pause.

"I love you."

The guilt is gone in an instance replaced with more anger.

"Leave me alone," she spits out bringing her phone down.

"Molly! Please. No. Do not hang up!"

Against her better judgment, she brings the phone back up to her ear. She feels it now. The teetering of her balance. The dark waves lapping at her feet.

"Why are you doing this to me?" She hates how desperate and pathetic her voice sounds. "Why are you making fun of me?"

"Please. I swear you just have to listen to me. Molly this is for a case. Its sort of experiment"

The anger rises now combined with indignation and shame. Shame that he would think so little of her that he would use her like this, knowing full well what she thought of him. "I'm not an experiment, Sherlock"

"No, I know you're not an experiment. You're my friend. We're friends. But please say those words for me."

As she feels herself sway on the precipice, she loses all thoughts of her dignity and she lets her desperation bleed through even more.

She begs him, feeling her emotions getting caught in her throat, hurting her. "Please don't do this. Just- just- just don't do it."

"It's very important. I can't say why but I promise you it is."

She shakes her head vehemently. "I can't say that. I can't." And she knows that she really can't. Because if she does, then… "I can't say that to you."

"Of course you can. Why can't you?"

She laughs incredulously inside because Sherlock can be the most obstinate person, refusing to see something that he already knows. "You know why."

"No. I don't know why"

"Of course you do."

"Please. Just say it."

And he's asking her so nicely, with that voice that she could never resist. But she tries again for her own survival because she can feel herself lose her balance "I can't. Not to you. Because – because it's true, Sherlock. It's always been –"

"If it's true, just say it anyway."

"You bastard." You selfish bastard, is what she doesn't say.

"Say it anyway."

She pauses before the next words tumble out of her mouth without a thought. "You say it."

Now that she's started down this road, she feels oddly insistent to hear those words from his lips. "Go on." She cajoles, daring him. "You say it first."

"What?"

Say it. Go on. Say it like you mean it.

She doesn't know the person saying these words that are coming out of her mouth. She just knows that she's halfway fallen and she'll do anything right now not to lose herself completely.

There is silence and as she breathes, each second pulls her deeper down. It feels like an eternity until -

"I-I love you."

He stumbles, the order of the words foreign to him.

" I love you."

And suddenly, she's free. As if those three little words spoken in that beautiful voice held all the power in the world. The darkness quickly fades away completely and for a moment, she can almost believe him.

"Molly?"

His voice brings her back to Earth.

"Molly, please"

She brings the phone away from her ear, contemplating if she should just hang up. It's amazing, though, how easily hope springs and she touches her lip, almost as if to prepares herself for the words that she has been swallowing back for the better part of a decade. Her fingers leave her lips, freeing them to finally say it. Because she can do this for him when he's just saved her from the edge.

"I love you," she whispers, reverently.

-Click-

For a minute, she doesn't realize what has happened until she looks at her phone at the screen of a disconnected call.

Her legs give out and she slides to the floor.

And she falls. The fragile hold she has of her emotions breaks loose and the dark chaos rushes back to take over her body, squeezing her heart to the point of agony. She doesn't realize that the tears she had been barely keeping at bay spills over in waves and a horrible cry comes out of her mouth.

All she can feel is the darkness taking over her and for once, she gives into it.

She can no longer breathe.