Author's Note: Hello everyone. I am sorry about the delay and all, but to tell you the truth, the fan in my laptop stopped working and now my laptop only works for about...15 minutes at a time and am now awaiting another laptop to screw up. So, I had to type this all out right here on the FanFiction Create New Document thingy because this laptop's Microsoft Word is shit and doesn't work.

Anyways, to finish the story off, instead of doing the intended Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls that I originally wanted to use as the finale song, I decided to do something a little sweeter and by a certain actor we all love.

Testimonies of Broken Hearts

A Sherlolly FanFiction

Chapter Ten

I Can't Keep it Inside

Well I've never been a man of many words/And there's nothing I could say that you haven't heard/But I'll sing you love songs 'til the day I die/The way I'm feelin/I can't keep it inside/I'll sing a sweet serenade whenever you're feeling sad/And a lullaby each night before you go to bed/I'll sing to you for the rest of your life/The way I'm feeling/I can't keep it inside.

Molly unlocked her flat, feeling the weight of the day settle on her shoulders as she would soon head for bed. Perhaps tonight would be another sleepless night. Those seemed to come more often as the dreams kept coming. Dreams of which made her writhe under the blankets as if they were completely and utterly real from pure happiness and a sad, suffering pain for it to be all gone. Sherlock had never acted in any warm way toward her after uni, so why would he had in a relationship type way that long ago.

But still, it couldn't seem to leave her mind.

The flat was chilly and dark as she entered, kicking off her shoes and throwing her jacket on the coat rack next to the door while still in the dark. "Now then, maybe some wine and telly will calm me a bit. It has been a long day."

Lighting the room, Molly jumped what seemed to be to the ceiling when seeing Sherlock Holmes sitting on her couch.

"Did I startle you?"

"Sherlock, why are you here? And why were you sitting in the dark and for how long? Why didn't you turn on a light or two and save me the heart attack for another week or so?"

"If the light was on it would've worried you."

"Not as much as you scaring me half to death by sitting on my couch in the dark without realizing you were even here."

He took a breath. "Fair enough."

"Sherlock, why are you here?"

Motioning around the room, he replied, "I feel that you need to sit down and allow me to explain something Molly."

When giving him a quizzical look, Sherlock responded with, "I want you to know what happened back in university."

"Oh, um, okay." Molly sat down on the opposite side of the couch, biting her lip. What secrets had he kept from her for all of these years?

The two sat in silence for a moment, feeling the awkwardness of the room as Sherlock prepared them both for the conversation to change them both forever. She would either reject him or she would understand completely and accept him back. Any way it went, Sherlock could not blame her for any of it.

"D-do you want anything to drink?" Molly asked nervously. She hadn't stuttered around him recently, probably not since the fall two years before. Sherlock shook his head at her.

"When we went to university together," Sherlock started, "we had planned to meet for coffee the afternoon you ended up in hospital. Well, you happened to run into a former...dealer of mine. Sebastian Moran. He believed me to still owe him money and attacked you under the impression that it would hurt me. I found the two of you in an alley and was able to save you from any other harm...that is, except a head injury. You were thrown against a wall and was knocked unconscious. This blow to the head caused you amnesia and completely robbed you of a year."

Molly's eyebrows furrowed. "When you said he was under the impression that hurting me would hurt you..."

"He was correct." Sherlock looked down at his shaking hands and interjected, "Could I have that drink now, or is it too late to ask?"

"Scotch?"

"Yes, please Molly, that would be lovely."

The consulting detective wasn't the only one who needed a drink at that point. Some alcohol would do them both good, just to relax them a bit.

Returning with two glasses and two bottles (one scotch and one wine) the two drank and were ready to continue.

"He was correct when he thought attacking you would hurt me. You see Molly, you are one person who actually tried to befriend me, other than John and Mary. The only other friend I ever had was a dog that had to be put down when I was young. It still baffles me that you continue to try and...keep close after all the things I said, everything I made you do.

"But there's something I've kept from you. And, John said that you told him you might be remembering. I don't exactly know how to say this, as it has been awhile, Molly. But, for about ten months of that year you don't remember we were...involved in a...relationship together."

"How so?"

Stunned, Sherlock looked into her eyes. She didn't believe him. She wanted proof. How would he ever find proof for her to understand.

Lucky guesses, he supposed.

"You see, there was this one night you showed up at my dorm. You were drenched and had walked across town because of a bad date. Telling me that I was right, I allowed you in and had you change and calm yourself. You and I stayed up most of the night and I got us coffee the next morning.

"I asked why you put yourself through such situations and you said relationships were complicated. You shouldn't be treated that way."

"And how should I be treated, Sherlock?"

There was his proof, his one chance at convincing her that it wasn't all a dream. He remembered the line, he had saved it in her room, archived away for a moment like this one. His last chance.

Leaning forward, Sherlock said quietly, "Like the bloody Queen of England."

Molly was the one to press her lips to his, dragging her fingers through his thick curls as she celebrated that it wasn't all just hopeful dreams. They were real. And so was this moment, bringing forth even more memories that made tears escape from her eyes with great glee. The lock was broken, the case solved, and her memory repaired, to some extent.

Molly still had to go through her memories on how exactly she ended up on her bed the next morning, her limbs tangled with Sherlock's while they were both completely unclothed.

(I feel so bad for making Mr. Holmes, Sherlock's dad, seem like such a dick in this story when the Holmes parents are absolutely adorable in Season 3. Btw, they are Mr. and Mrs. Cumberpatch, and I think it's incredibly sweet how they interact with their son. Just thought I'd bring this up).

"Sherlock, you are late."

"I'm sorry Molly, I got tied up a bit."

"I don't care, Sherlock, you were supposed to be here forever ago. Although your mother is very charming, Mycroft keeps glaring daggers at me."

"So sorry Molly, but I am just minutes away."

"Minutes are all you are going to have if this is always going to be your excuse."

Sherlock smiled. "I will be there in two minutes. Promise." (Fangirl moment cuz of Ben reciting a relatively R rated song and saying "Promise" really really sexy).

Hanging up the phone, Sherlock glanced at the other two passengers of the car. He, John, and Mary were sitting in the back of a cab to see his mother for Christmas. A year had passed since Molly remembered their relationship from university and neither of them had been happier. Mrs. Holmes was thrilled that her baby boy had finally fessed up to the one girl he had ever seemed to be attracted to, to her knowledge. And John would not shut up about him being right for a whole week straight, Sherlock, Molly, and Mary allowing him to gloat freely the entire time.

Sherlock's mother ran out the door as the cab pulled up. "Oh, my Sherlock. How are you dear? Are you alright?"

"Yes, fine mother." His mother gave him a long squeeze, Sherlock lightly patting her back as she did, feeling awkward as John and Mary laughed from behind him.

"It's so good to see my boys come home for the holidays. Ah, I remember John. Hello John, Mary. How are you two?" Mrs. Holmes ran off to great Sherlock's friends as Molly instead ran towards him.

"Thank goodness you're here. I'm almost sick of that evil eye I keep getting. Did he always do that to me back when-"

"You two barely saw each other back then, Molly. I believe I gave him a black eye and a bloody nose for calling you 'plain' when in my presence."

Giggling, Molly led the detective into his mother's home.

The two sat in the living room hours later, enjoying the warmth of the fire as Molly snuggled into his chest. "You should play something in a bit," she muttered, her eyes half closed as they stared at the flames.

"If I do you'll fall asleep."

She lightly shook her head. "No I won't. I promise."

Laughing, Sherlock nudged her off of him and walked to get his violin case. When back, he started to play Christmas tunes, most of which were recognizable. John and Mary were sitting in the dining room, Mycroft having left because he had other business to attend to. Sherlock's mother stood in the doorway smiling for most of the time, leaving to probably go check on a baking pie or something of the sort. It wasn't until the end of a certain song Molly didn't recognize that Sherlock stopped playing.

"That one was lovely, but I don't happen to recognize it, Sherlock."

"You wouldn't. I composed it myself."

Smiling, Molly replied, "Did you now? It was simply lovely. I swear you can do almost anything, Sherlock. If I could put you in a box and have you forever, I would."

"Then have me forever." He sat beside her, quickly retiring his violin back into its case. The pathologist's smile grew, turning away from him for only a moment to place her mug on the little table beside the couch.

When she turned back, Sherlock was holding a ring in his hand.

"Would you have me forever, Molly Hooper? You've always counted, I've always trusted you, and I've always loved you."

"S-Sherlock...I don't know what to say."

He smiled. "Say yes."

Nodding, she replied with a simple, yet happy, "Yes."

Author's Note: And THAT was the final chapter of Testimonies of Broken Hearts. Just writing that made my heart melt. Who guessed this song's significance? Check below for song info. By the way, should I put this fic on tumblr for shits and giggles? I don't even know what to do with my tumblr as I just scroll through Sherlock and DW stuff all day. Oh well, I love you all, and this story will not be marked as complete until a final update: a Special Features thing in which all songs associated with this fic is named (a playlist, if you will), and some responses to a couple wonderful people the have reviewed (you're all wonderful, I just want to reply to a few and I hate PMing reviews for some reason). Maybe even a quick look into another Sherlock thing I'm thinking of working on very soon. Feedback is lovely, by the way. Love the feedback.

I seriously love you all, and please remember to check out my other stories, as I do have more stories in the works (right at this moment I have a Frozen/ROTG fic I'm putting up soon cuz I saw Frozen but will return to Sherlock and maybe do some Doctor Who stuff soon).

Please leave a review of you thoughts! You guys are the best fans I could ever ask for!

Song: I Can't Keep it Inside

Singer: Benedict Cumberpatch

Movie: August: Osage County

I do not own anything!