My Savior

Since Moriarty's return I've had her ensconced in my flat at 221B Baker Street. I told myself it was for her own safety, but if I was truly honest, it was for my sanity. She could save me in ways that no one else could. There was just something about her that gave me a strength that even I didn't know I possessed. She quiets my mind, keeping me focused. I have done absolutely everything wrong when it comes to her, and yet, she is always there to catch me when I fall. In saving me she has become the one person I know I'll always need; that I'll always want.

John might be a great and loyal friend, but somehow that's not all I need any longer. I need and want something more than mere companionship. Plus John has a different life now; one that I am only marginally involved in these days. While I miss having him here, his isn't the only life that has changed over the past three years.

All of that time I spent trying to dismantle Moriarty's network, it was Molly I wished was with me; that I wanted to get home to the most. I left her here with a burden I never wanted her to have to carry. She is a strong woman who deserves more than any of us have ever given her, especially me.

Standing in the doorway to my bedroom I watch her sleep, thinking of every moment I could have changed things with her. I watch as she slowly opens her eyes; eyes that could always see what no one else was capable of seeing. I don't know how she does it, or how she has ingrained herself so deeply into my mind, but she has and I'm thankful for her presence there. Her voice is always there leading me to the right path; keeping me safe.

"Sherlock, why are you staring at me?" she questioned, her voice and eyes still filled with sleep.

"I was just thinking. I didn't mean to wake you," I said, still watching her. I take in every detail, from the way her hair is lying haphazardly around the pillow, her petite hands folded gracefully under her cheek, and how her slight body was taking up most of the far side of my bed. She looked peaceful despite the terror that could be waiting for us in the coming days.

"It's all right. Did you want to lie down? I could take the sofa or John's old room instead."

"No, stay," I instructed, walking over to the bed to sit down.

"Okay," the reply came with a bit of a tremble in her voice. Her nervous nature is somewhat endearing and something I am glad I can still evoke in her.

"How do you do it Molly?" I asked, needing to understand.

"Do what?"

"Save me."

"I don't understand. What do you mean I save you?" She's looking at me with trepidation, as if she can't figure out what it is exactly I'm trying to say.

"Every time I'm in trouble, you're there to catch me, to save me. You do so much for me and I don't understand why." I lay down next to her, never taking my eyes from hers.

"Maybe it's because I can see what's inside you. You have this amazing gift Sherlock, and you are a wonderful person when you're not busy being a complete arse." She smiled a little as she said this. "I see all your brilliance and it's incredible what you're capable of, and what you do for the world every day. And yet, I see all of that vulnerability you try so hard to hide from everyone. I love you for all your complexities and imperfections, and would do anything for you," she said, looking at me with worry in her eyes at her words. "And now I've made you uncomfortable."

"No, its fine," I said, waving off her concern. "I just don't understand how you can see me the way you do, that you can feel anything but contempt for me. You are this amazing woman who I have taken advantage of at every turn and you've saved me twice now.

"What are you talking about?"

"When I'd been shot, you were there in my mind palace telling me what to do. You saved my life and you didn't even realize you were doing it. You, Molly Hooper, are the voice in my head." She smiled at my words.

I notice a tear silently rolling down her cheek and as I brush my thumb across her cheek to wipe it away she holds my hand there, leaning into it. I realize then just how much she has come to mean to me. The fact that I can lie here next to her speaks volumes. I want to tell her just how special she is to me, which means I'll have to choose my next words carefully. Words of sentiment are not really my area, but she deserves to know. However, before I get the chance to say anything she leans toward me, brushing the softest of kisses across my lips. The ghost of a kiss that I ache to repeat, but know that now is not the time to press for more.

"Why didn't you tell me any of this before?" she asked, before placing her head on my chest. I find my arms automatically pulling her into an embrace.

"I've always believed caring to be a disadvantage, so I'm not very good with emotions or saying the right words when I need to. I'm not good with much of anything if it doesn't involve some sort of puzzle to solve."

"That's not true Sherlock. Even if you don't see it, I do, I see it," she managed before falling back to sleep in my arms. I find myself wrapping them around her a little tighter before placing a kiss on the top of her head. I want to keep her here, just like this, for as long as possible. I don't want the real world to intrude on this moment of peace and happiness I've found.

"I love you Molly Hooper, my savior," I whispered, kissing her head once more.