A/N: Happy first day of Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2016! I wrote this for the "Caught in the Rain" theme. It's inspired by the Ezria rain kiss scene on Pretty Little Liars.

UNBROKEN

Molly Hooper had given up. She had left him a dozen of voicemails, texted him a thousand times and even called his brother but no one knew Sherlock Holmes's whereabouts. Mycroft said that Sherlock had told him he was out of the country for a special case. Molly didn't doubt that but was hurt. Their relationship had been rocky from the beginning. Oh, they loved each other, she knew, but no one could know about them since Molly could be targeted by his enemies. Sherlock wanted to prevent that.

Molly sighed and zipped the body bag up. Male, 68, aneurysm and heart attack. Clear as day. Her early shift was over. Sherlock had been gone for 15 days now and no one knew where he was. Greg had tried to locate him, but without any success. Sherlock didn't want to get found, clearly.

Molly was sick of his games.

Sherlock felt guilty for leaving Molly behind, but this case was the one thing that could provide them everything. If he could solve this one case, the rewards would be sky-high. Enough to give Molly everything she ever wished for. It was a collaboration with the FBI and MI5. They desperately needed Sherlock. Thus, Sherlock gave in. And now he was at some super-secret base somewhere, he didn't know the exact location.

If you don't meet me at our favorite place in London tonight at 9 we'll be over - Molly

Sherlock dropped his cell phone.

'What's wrong, Holmes?' The supervisor asked.

'I need to go back.' Sherlock said. 'Back to London.'

'You can't do that. We haven't solved it.'

'Yes, we have. Suspect number 3 is the culprit. If you put enough pressure on him, he will break under it and spill all his secrets..' He answered. 'I need a plane. To London. Right now, I need to be there at 8.'

'Holmes! This is unacceptable!' The supervisor said.

'I don't care.' Sherlock spit. 'I need a ride to the airport and a plane NOW!'

It took him five minutes to convince his supervisor of letting him go because this was an absolute matter of national importance.

Sherlock's plane left thirty minutes later for Heathrow Airport.

He was nervous. Very nervous. If everything would go as planned he would arrive at 8:30 pm at Heathrow. During the case, he wasn't allowed to use his cellphone. Today was the first day he was able to get his hands on it and Sherlock had never been this scared in his life.

100 missed calls from Molly Hooper

20 missed calls from Mycroft Holmes

30 missed calls from John Watson

300 unread texts from Molly Hooper

140 unread texts from Mycroft Holmes

20 unread texts from John Watson

15 unread texts from Mary Watson

since the last 15 days

This was wrong. He'd downloaded all the voicemails and listened to them during his flight.

'Sherlock, where are you? You didn't show up at the morgue today. It's Monday, you always show up on Mondays at 11 minutes past 10 in the morning. I just wondered where you were since you left so abruptly last night. Well, maybe you're just on a case and forgot to text me. Erm, I guess I'll catch you later.'

"Hey, Sherlock. It's me. I was wondering when you are going to be back and if we can meet, you know, just to go over everything. I suppose the time you spent away from me changed my views on many things.'

'Sherlock, it's your brother. Just this once, do me a favor and give Molly Hooper a call. I don't think I can handle her anymore. She shows up every day at the Diogenes Club to ask about your whereabouts. It is annoying, but she really seems to care for you. I can't understand how that has happened, but she is really worried. Give her a call, for my sake.'

Please, Molly. Don't leave me.

Molly didn't feel any emotions after she'd sent that text. Maybe it was because she was at peace with the thought of a break-up, maybe because she knew Sherlock wouldn't end things this way.

But how could she know? Maybe he was in Australia, no way he could be back at 9 tonight.

'That's his own problem. He should text.' She thought.

Her flat was empty, Toby didn't live at her place anymore, Mrs Hudson liked caring for him way too much. Molly herself almost stayed permanently at 221b, she usually spent the whole day at Bart's and return to Sherlock late at night when her shifts were over.

Not even John had the faintest idea of what was going on.

In the beginning, Molly was okay with keeping it quiet. But now she wanted to shout it everywhere. Tell everyone he was hers and she was his. She couldn't live with the secrecy anymore.

Molly changed into a nice sundress and wedges and even put some effort into her makeup before she left. It was a hot day in July, naturally she didn't take an umbrella or coat with her. Just her small purse.

London was quite vivid these days. People walking around, laughing. Meeting up for ice cream at the park. It has London how Molly liked it best. Like London she fell in love with years ago when she first arrived here, freshly graduated from Cambridge.

She drove to St. Regent's Park; Sherlock and she had kissed there for the first time and on a quiet street corner was a nice place they always went out for dinner.

The only thing she could do now was waiting.

Traffic was utterly stuck. Sherlock shouted at his cabbie, the cabbie shouted back and they continued to do so until Sherlock decided to get out of the car two blocks away from the park.

He started running. It was 9:40 pm and chances were big Molly had left.

It had started raining; Sherlock wore his Belstaff but no rain coat or something of that sort though he did not care. The two blocks were further than he had expected but he kept running.

Molly sat outside the restaurant in the pouring rain. She had forgotten to bring an umbrella and, unfortunately, she hadn't one laying around in the trunk of her car.

Her red dress was soaked. But even though it was later than nine-thirty, she did not leave. She could not, she did not want to give in to that feeling of hopelessness, of heartbreak, of abandonment.

She had passed the point of crying; she'd already done she just sat on the bench and stared into the nothingness.

Sherlock would never leave her, would he?

Sherlock was breathless when he arrived at the restaurant. He, too, wasn't prepared for rain this heavy in the middle of summer. He saw Molly sitting on that bench, soaking wet. 'Molls!' He yelled and ran to her. She heard him and ran straight into his arms.

He kissed her, hungrily. 'Oh my god, Molly. Please don't leave me. I love you, I love you, I love you!' He repeated over and over again when they broke their kiss.

Molly was crying as well. 'Enough to tell the world I'm your girlfriend?'

'Yes!' Sherlock answered. 'I can't live without you. Stay with me.'

'I will.' She promised. 'But do you mind going home? I think I will catch a cold if we stay here longer.'

Sherlock smiled. 'I will follow wherever you go, Molly Hooper.'