#zugzwang

I am careless with

their hearts, a chess master who

hates to play the game.

Final season of Criminal Minds premieres tonight. CM (from what I remember) was the first fictional show that made me cry. Episode 8x12 (Zugzwang). After it was over, I was just sitting there crying. My mom and brother were looking at me like I lost my mind. I’ve adamantly refused to watch that episode again.

Part One Here! | AO3

Sherlock was left in the lab, alone after his soulmate had left.  No one needed to tell him that he’d been an arse to her, that he’d had more opportunities than even he could remember to say something, anything,about their shared soulmarks.  No one needed to tell him that Molly was completely within her rights to abandon him as she had, as he had for so many years.  The lies he had told himself had become irrelevant as soon as he had thought her to be in danger.  Alone did not protect him.  Molly Hooper had protected him.

He texted John. He felt a twinge of guilt, but pushed it away.  This was one of the things Mary had given her life for.  And he was going to do his damnedest to live it as best he could. He had made a promise, after all, to honour her memory.  And Mary had known that Molly was going to be part of that.

At some point during his thoughts, John had texted back.

GIVE HER SOME SPACE.  IT’S ONLY BEEN A WEEK.  J.W.

Sherlock snorted. Giver her some space, when it had been John’s bloody idea to go talk to her in the first place.

YOU WILL NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT AT SOME POINT.  I NEVER SAID TO DO IT NOW.  J.W.

Of course John had finally developed a spine of his own.  How very inconvenient.

He stared at the phone screen.

HOW WILL I KNOW WHEN SHE IS READY?  S.H.

YOU’LL KNOW.  J.W.

All these complicated little emotions were incredibly inconvenient.  Sherlock Holmes then did something quite extraordinary.

He made a phone call.

“For God’s sake, I’m not a bloody therapist, Sherlock.”

“No, that would apparently be my sister, John.”  Sherlock couldn’t help the words that snapped from his mouth.  He inhaled sharply, pressing his fingers to his temples in an attempt to calm his anger.  Harassing his best friend would not help matters in the least.

“Listen, Sherlock, there’s nothing else I can tell you.  You know how Mary and I made it work.  You’ve deduced the hell out of everyone down at Scotland Yard to know their personal lives.  I would assume you know or could at least presume to know the ins and outs of your parents’ relationship.  Everyone’s different.  You and Molly perhaps more than most.”

Sherlock Holmes had an epiphany.  Molly had fallen in love with him once before.  There was absolutely no reason why she couldn’t do so again.  (And this time, as an added bonus, he had the charm and attraction of Rosie Watson to help.)