What I Really When I'm Dying...Is You?

Note: I blame myself for watching A Little Bit of Heaven for the plotbunny arising out of the blue. But it won't be too long...I think. Anyway let me know what you think, please?

One.

Molly was in the middle of making dinner for herself for the first time in a long while. After a year of being under the watchful eye of her superiors at the hospital she could finally breathe a little easier. As soon as she had been called in by the board of directors earlier in the day she had been more than happy to feel happy again.

It did help that a certain consulting detective had stayed as far away as possible over the past couple weeks. She couldn't say she didn't expect him to pop in the lab once or twice. He didn't, much to her surprise however. He had been ordered to stay as far away from Dr. Hooper when she was on the clock.

Sherlock had been advised to not push the limits by the law by many people including John, Lestrade and most irritatingly Mycroft. It had been his fault they said. It was true to an extent. He hadn't thought all that much those years ago when he had enlisted her help in faking his death.

Now he found himself making his way to her again. This time with something equally discerning. He had been notified earlier before this new issue arised about the stipulations of Molly's probation being lifted, it was now perfect really that he needed her now.

Well, in a different way than last time.

He unlocked her door through his own devices since he hadn't a key and he didn't really want to wait for her to answer the door. While he was doing so he realized for one quick second that she might have something heavy in her hands to hit him with. It wouldn't be the first time, he thought as he turned the knob and opened the door.

"Molly." He called as he strode through to her living room upon not seeing her there. He took off his coat and scarf as he did so and walked towards the kitchen.

"Sherlock! What are you doing here?"

"I need your help."

"Now? I'm kinda in the middle of something." She turned back to her stove and went to stir the sauce she had just poured into the small pan when Sherlock reached over and took it from her, grabbed her sleeve with one hand pulled her out of the kitchen and gave her a push.

"Go sit. This is more important than some celebratory dinner Dr. Hooper." She noticed that he hadn't moved to the outside of the kitchen and was still holding the spoon she was using to stir.

He gave her a glare which made her scurry over to the couch and sat down with her legs folded under her. She fixed her shirt on her which was a fannel pajama top with a tank under it and a pair of sweat pants on her legs. Very mixed matched but it was comfortable to her. She grabbed a pillow as she waited for him.

This had to be really important.

Molly watched the clock as it ticked away the seconds. She counted along with it, two minutes exactly passed before a plate was placed on the coffee table in front of her and a set of silverware was next to it. She looked at it and then up to the man who straightened up after placing the food down.

"Thank you?" She said uneasily as she dropped her pillow and picked up the plate and the fork and began to eat slowly.

Sherlock took a seat in the chair that still seemed to be there despite the fact that Sherlock hadn't been here in years. He mulled over it a moment until he realized that it was most likely one of two things. A) She kept it there for sentimental reasons. Very silly in his opinion. B) She couldn't lift it past the door let alone out of the building at all. The latter seemed more truth.

"You said you needed my help?" Molly asked after a few moments of complete silence. Sherlock looked to be in complete concentration. She almost didn't want to interrupt him. She had learned that she could be sitting there waiting for hours for him to say something.

"Yes." He blinked a moment. "Molly, I am going to die."

"Not this again. Sherlock! I just got off the hook the last time I helped you with..."

"If you listened to what I said you'd notice a difference in what I said the last time and what I am saying now. I am going to die this time. There is no criminal mastermind out for my head. There is only me and something I'm still trying to figure out completely."

"I'm gonna need you to explain some more. I'm not following you all the way. What do you need me for then?" She said as she placed her empty place down on the table once again.

"I went to see my family's doctor today. I had a little problem on the last case and so after John lecturing me about it several times I thought I should get an expert's opinion on the matter. As I said I am dying. Cancer, to be specific."

"Where?" Molly took in a shaky breath.

He chuckled. "My lungs."

"What do you need from me?" She wiped her eyes to get rid of her tears. She straightened up a bit.

Sherlock gave her a smile before speaking to her quickly.

Note: hey there. So um this will be mostly fun filled lighthearted. Let me know if you'd like more. Okay?

Much love,

Day