1. Shock
It had only been an hour after the fall when Molly first notices that something was wrong with Sherlock. He was sitting on a desk in the lab while Molly cleaned his cuts and bruises. Sherlock was dead silent. Molly knew that he was thinking about John by the way his eyes looked so sad.
"Thank you, Molly," Sherlock interrupted her thoughts. She looked up into Sherlock's eyes.
"You're welcome," Molly started buttoning Sherlock's shirt back up. Sherlock looked down at the ground. He looked so miserable and alone. "Are you going to be alright?"
When Sherlock didn't answer Molly wrapped her arms around his shaking form. Sherlock buried his face into Molly's chest. She began to run her fingers through Sherlock's dark curls saying comforting words.
"It's going to be alright, Sherlock. Because of you John is alive and safe." At the mention of John's name, a knot formed in Sherlock's throat. He held back tears and chocked back sobs but the trembling stayed. His aching chest wasn't helping him hide his emotions and it pained him so much. He needed Molly more than ever.
2. Hunger
The second time Molly comforted Sherlock that day was when they got to Molly's house. It was nighttime and Molly was starving. She told Sherlock to make himself at home then went into the kitchen. She took out two pieces of bread and some nutella from the cupboard. It wasn't much of a dinner but it was quick.
Molly hid the jam behind some stuff in the cupboard. She didn't want Sherlock seeing it and get all worked up about John, remembering how he liked jam so much.
She went into the living room and called Sherlock into the kitchen to eat. They both sat down at the kitchen table and Molly pasted Sherlock a plate with a piece of bread with nutella on it. Molly began eating right away but Sherlock only stared at the plate as if he was unsure of what to do with it.
"Aren't you hungry, Sherlock?" Molly asked him. Sherlock just shrugged his shoulders. "You should eat, Sherlock. You are in shock and you'll feel better once there's food in your stomach."
Sherlock didn't want to eat, he wasn't feeling himself at the moment. There was an ache in his chest and he still hadn't stop shaking yet. Emotions were attacking his way of thinking and he just couldn't function correctly. Eating wasn't going to make him feel better he just knew it. Sherlock didn't like eating and he hated eating in front of people. The only person he felt comfortable eating in front of was John…how he missed John…
"Please eat, Sherlock, you need to eat something," Molly said in a soft voice. Sherlock shook his head quickly as his body started to shake more.
What's wrong with me? Sherlock thought as he bit down on his bottom lip.
Molly reached out for Sherlock's hand resting on the table. She entwined her fingers with his shaking ones, amazed that he wasn't trying to shake out of her grip.
"Sherlock, I know you are upset about having to leave John but starving yourself isn't going to make the pain go away, if anything it will make it worse," Molly said looking into Sherlock's eyes. "Please just eat a little then I won't make you eat for the rest of the night."
Sherlock looked at the plate then, with his free hand, picked up the piece of bread and took a bite of it. Molly smiled with relief.
"Thank you, Sherlock," Molly said as Sherlock ate some more of the bread. His body stopped shaking so hard and he started to feel a bit better. Molly finished her piece of bread and waited till Sherlock finished his. When he did; Molly slowly let go of Sherlock's hand and put the plates in the sink.
"Are you feeling better, Sherlock?" Molly asked sitting back down at the table. Sherlock looked at the floor and nodded. Molly smiled.
"Come on, I'll show you where the guest room is."
3. Sickness
Sherlock was sick. He knew the second he woke up. He was lying on his side, facing away from the guestroom door. The same position he went to sleep went in. From past experiences with illnesses he would wake up like this knowing that his body was too tired from trying to fight the germs to move during the night. Sherlock woke up to a headache and nausea.
It was quiet in the flat. Molly had left for work hours ago Sherlock suspected.
He wasn't sure how long he stayed in bed for but when he sat up to get dressed he felt his stomach twist with pain and the nausea really began to set in. He quickly covered his mouth and stumbled to his feet to the bathroom. He reached the toilet just in time and fell to his knees in front of it and vomited.
Sherlock wrapped his shaking arms around his stomach and whimpered. Everything hurt. He flushed the toilet then leaned his back against the bathroom wall. Still holding his stomach, he brought his legs up to his chest and bent his head down.
Sherlock felt terrible and alone. Months back he had gotten sick with the flu when he was still back at 221b and John was with him the whole time. He took a few days off from work to make sure Sherlock recovered. John gave him medication to stop the nausea and the headaches and kept Sherlock from getting bored.
Sherlock missed John so much. He whimpered as his stomach began to hurt again. The tears Sherlock had been holding back sense his first night at Molly's flat filled his eyes and fell down his cheeks. He hadn't cried about having to fake his dead yet but now it seemed so easy to let his emotions out.
Sherlock tried to keep himself from sobbing knowing that if he did start to sob it would make his headache worst.
Sherlock heard the front door open then close and the sound of footsteps come down the hallway to the guestroom. That's when Sherlock released he forgot to close the bathroom door.
"Sherlock?" Molly asked seeing him sitting on the floor of her bathroom. "What's wrong?"
Sherlock face flushed with embarrassment as he wiped the tears off his cheeks. He hated looking so weak.
"I feel sick," Sherlock answered sounding like a small child. Molly felt his forehead then hesitated to put her arm around Sherlock's shoulders.
"You are burning up, Sherlock. You should have called me," Molly told him. Sherlock didn't say anything. "What are your symptoms?"
"Fever, nausea, fatigue, and I have a headache," Sherlock said slowly starting to feel sick again. "Molly?"
"Yes?" Molly saw Sherlock trying to move over to the toilet then understood perfectly. She helped Sherlock to the toilet still keeping her arm around his shoulders.
Tears slid down Sherlock's face as he vomited into the toilet. When his stomach settled Molly flushed the toilet and Sherlock leaned back against the bathroom wall. He closed his eyes and took a deep breathe.
"I was sick a few months ago," Sherlock told Molly. "John took care of me the whole time…" Molly looked at Sherlock then wrapped him in a comforting hug.
"I'm sorry, Sherlock," Molly wasn't sure what else to say to make Sherlock feel better. "I'll take care of you while you're sick."
"Thank you, Molly."
4. Nightmare
Sherlock startled awake and quickly looked around the room. He was in the bed in the guestroom at Molly's flat.
"John!" Sherlock shouts then he covered his mouth remembering that Molly was sleeping just in the other room. He might have woken her, but he found himself not caring and shouted again.
"John!" Sherlock cried in fear. He had just had the most terrifying nightmare. He was back on the St. Bart's hospital roof though it was different this time. John was planning to jump instead of Sherlock. Sherlock tried to talk John into not jumping but John jumped anyway. Sherlock watched John fall to his death and he woke up when John reached the pavement.
Sherlock sat up and put his face in his hands. John…he needed to stop thinking about John. He was getting too worked up about all of this. He had work to do that he hadn't gotten started on yet. He needed to find and kill off Moriarty's men but the over whelming sadness he was feeling about John wasn't letting him.
Sherlock heard the guestroom door open and he heard footsteps coming to him. He heard the click of the lamp on the nightstand turn on.
"Sherlock?" Molly said concern filled her voice. Sherlock lifted his face which was flushed with embarrassment.
"Hi," Sherlock answered awkwardly. Molly sat on the bed and looked into Sherlock's eyes.
"I heard you yell," Molly said. "Was it about John, your dream?"
Sherlock nodded and looked down at the bed sheets. "I was up on the roof again, but J-John was going to…to jump." Sherlock found himself struggling to talk about something so simple. He felt a sob coming up from his chest and he was determent not to let Molly see him being so emotional, even after his little episode just two days ago when he was puking up his guts in her bathroom.
"John did jump in my d-dream…" Sherlock continued as he held back the tears that were forming in his eyes. "I'm s-sorry I y-yelled. I- I just... I w-wasn't sure-" Sherlock stopped himself and started coughing, he was still trying to get over his cold. He took a deep breath when the coughing stopped.
"Sherlock, it's alright. I know that this is very hard for you. I know that you miss John very much and you are worried about him." Molly grabbed Sherlock's hand and looked into his eyes. "Being upset about it is ok and you don't need to hide it from me because I'm trying to help." Molly smiled at Sherlock and he gave a sad smile back.
"Thank you again, Molly," Sherlock said then took a deep breath. "Can you stay in here with me tonight?"
Molly was shocked by Sherlock's request then nodded. Molly reached over to the lamp to turn it off. Sherlock slid over to the other side of the bed as Molly climbed in and laid down next to him. Molly wasn't sure what else to do really. She knew Sherlock asked her to stay with him because he needed comfort but she wasn't sure of how to give it at the moment.
Molly laid there for another second then searched for Sherlock's hand and held it in her hand again. To Molly's great surprise; she felt Sherlock lean his head into her shoulder.
"Good night, Sherlock," Molly said then laid a kiss on his forehead. Even in the darkness of the Guestroom, she could see the smile that shown across Sherlock's face.
"Good night, Molly."
5. Breakdown
Molly looked up from her computer as Sherlock burst into Molly's flat ripping off his scarf and coat. He ran into the guest room, tossing his coat and scarf on the floor and collapsing onto the bed.
In quick moves, Sherlock grappled a pillow near him and shoved his face into and screamed as loud as he could. He really hoped Molly couldn't hear him from the other room.
Sherlock's whole body trembled as everything that had been going on for the past week or two really began to sink in. His chest began to ache more than before and it shook from the sobs he had been holding in.
Sherlock didn't care anymore.
Into the pillow he let out a heart wrenching sob that came deep within his chest. That's when the tears came without warning.
Molly could hear everything from where she was sitting in the living room. When she heard Sherlock start to cry; she decided that she should give him a few minutes to be alone.
Sherlock continued to cry after a few minutes and Molly knocked on the door and heard Sherlock go silent.
"Sherlock?" Molly said waited for a reply. When she didn't hear Sherlock call out, she opened the door to see him lying on his stomach on the guest room bed and his face buried in a pillow. Molly felt her heart break from seeing Sherlock so broken. She sat down next to him on the bed not saying a word.
"I'm so sorry, Sherlock," Molly said when she finally broke the awkward silence. Sherlock rested the right side of his face on the pillow some that half of his face was showing. Molly could see the tears that had been falling from his eyes.
"John was talking to my grave. Well not my grave-but…" Sherlock sighed then closed his eyes for a moment. "He said…" He stopped again and covered his mouth with his hand and sobbed again.
Molly jumped up from her place on the side of the bed and without thinking; lied down, on her side, next to Sherlock and wrapped her arms around his shaking form and brought him close to her body.
Sherlock buried his face into Molly's chest, just has he done just hours after faking his death.
Sherlock took a deep breath and started again.
"John begged for me to n-not be d-dead…I wish-I wish I could-"Sherlock's slender body shook from his sobs.
"Shh, It's okay, Sherlock. Let it out…" Molly ran her fingers through Sherlock's hair trying her best at comforting the broken man.
They laid there for a long time. Sherlock's sobs turned to whimpers then just an occasional sniffle. When he lifted his face, it was flushed from embarrassment and crying. He brought his hand up to wipe his nose, something that Molly found quite cute, and hiccupped a few times.
When Sherlock looked up into Molly's eyes, his were red rimed and she could see all of Sherlock's pain and sadness within them.
"I'm so sorry, Sherlock," Molly told him running her fingers in his hair once more. Sherlock shook his head.
"I'll be alright…" He lied, avoiding eye contact with Molly.
"I know you'll be alright, Sherlock," Molly said then kissed the top of Sherlock's forehead. He leaned his forehead on Molly's and smiled sadly. "It can only get better."
"Thank you, Molly," Sherlock closed his eyes and began to fall asleep, tired from crying.
Molly let Sherlock fall asleep next to her. She knew he needed the sleep for Sherlock hadn't been sleeping well lately from the nightmares. Sherlock had kept his emotions bottled up and now that he was releasing them, he could start working on tracking down Moriarty's men. Molly would be by his side every step of the way.
"You're welcome, Sherlock," Molly said just before closing her eyes and drifting off into a deep sleep still holding Sherlock in her arms.
Hello! :D sorry if that was rubbish, that was the first Sherlock Fanfic that I decided to post instead of working on it for months and then finishing it and being too scared to post it…
I like reviews, please tell me if you found any spelling errors or rubbish parts in the story… :D
Thanks so much for reading
-BigEyedBareFootLoony :D
