Inspired by an episode of The Crimson Field that had me in tears.

Molly rubbed at her bleary eyes before looking down at the watch on her wrist. She'd been awake for nearly twenty-four hours now. The large convoy from the front the night before had kept the makeshift hospital even busier than usual. Everyone had been working around the clock to get a handle on the most seriously wounded cases. She'd lost track of the number of amputations that had been done in the just the fast few hours alone. It was some of the worst injuries she had seen since arriving. But though her body was exhausted, more than anything she felt a sense of numbness settle in her bones.

She thought her training in nursing would have prepared her for this, but it hadn't, not completely. Nothing could have prepared anyone for the sights, sounds, and smells that she had experienced in her short time in France. The anguish on the injured soldiers' faces as they were brought down from the trucks, the cries due to nightmares that woke her from her slumber, the smell of burnt flesh that seemed to linger in the air, it was hard not to be overwhelmed. The older, more experienced nurses had told her that her body would adjust to the physical toll and that eventually she would learn how to distance herself from the emotional aspect of it. Perhaps the numb sensation meant that she was finally learning how not to let it consume her. It scared her that one could become used to such tragedy.

It wasn't all tragedy though. She had her close friend Mary with her which was like having a piece of home. She had grown close to the other doctors and nurses and enjoyed the camaraderie that they all shared. In this middle-of-nowhere, they had formed a small, tight knit community and spent down time joking around and sharing stories about life back in London. It helped to lighten the mood and escape the dreariness of their surroundings for a bit. She also enjoyed getting to know the soldiers as they recovered. Everyone had a story to tell.

Despite all gloom around her, she wouldn't have chosen to be anywhere else. Volunteering to serve in France had been the best decision she had made. She had felt rather useless back in England, dawdling her time away as she waited for news. Her skills were needed here.

A firm hand on her shoulder shook her out of her reverie.

"The tent. Go now. I'll cover for you," Mary's voice whispered into her ear. As she walked by, she turned briefly to give Molly a small smile before heading to fetch fresh bandages from the supply closet. Mary didn't even have to explain. Molly knew what it meant.

A letter had arrived.

The two had an agreement to tell each other the moment any news arrived. Good or bad. Long or short. They had both decided it was best to know right away.

Mary had gotten a letter from her husband John three days ago. He'd been in a close call while treating a man on the battlefield but had managed to walk away unscathed. Molly had held her normally composed friend as Mary's relief poured out in a flood of tears.

They had only been married for two weeks before John had to ship off to France. They had known it was coming and decided to marry quickly instead of waiting. It had been an extremely small affair with only Molly and Sherlock, their best friends, in attendance serving as witnesses. During the ceremony as she held Mary's bouquet, she caught Sherlock's eye and wondered if they might ever find themselves in the same position.

Sherlock.

It had been two months since she'd heard from him and nearly six since she'd seen him back in England when he was last on leave. She spent her days in fear that she'd see him be brought to this very hospital, yet at the same time wanting more than anything to see him. As much as she wanted him to be safe from harm, she would also give anything to hold him in her arms again. It felt twisted but it was war. Nothing seemed to make sense.

At the first chance that the head Matron was busy with a patient, Molly quietly slipped out into the brisk night air and made her way across the camp. As she dodged people milling about outside, she braced herself for the news that awaited her. It could be anything and the unknown terrified her. The look Mary had given led her to believe it wasn't the sort of letter to worry about, but then again Mary had no way of knowing the message it contained. As long as she saw his scrawled handwriting on the envelope, it would be a good sign. Anything but the dreaded formal notice in bolded letters sent from the London head office which only signaled the worst news imaginable.

The area around the lodging tents was empty as everyone was busy working double shifts so Molly could breathe a little easier. She slipped inside the canvas flap and lit a small lantern. There was no letter waiting. Nothing on the bed, nor the small nightstand. She checked the ground and under the bed thinking it may have been blown off in a gust of wind but still nothing. Just as she was about to search Mary's side, her eye caught a flash of metal in the small mirror hanging above her bed.

Her heart stopped as she studied the reflection in the dim light and realized someone was standing behind her. The someone was dressed in uniform and had short dark curls that fell across his forehead as he removed his hat.

It couldn't be. Her exhaustion must have made her delusional. And yet.

The face in the mirror became clearer as he slowly walked towards her. A tender smile formed at the corners of his mouth.

"Molly," spoke the deep voice that she'd so longed to hear.

A guttural sob that had been caught deep in her chest finally escaped before she could control it. Slowly she turned around and as she laid eyes on him her knees buckled. Rushing over to her, he caught her by the shoulders and crushed her to his chest.

"Molly."

She couldn't stop the tears that flowed onto her cheeks if she wanted to. But she didn't want to.

He was here. He was safe.

Her two wishes had been granted. It was the best thing she could've asked for.

They clung to each other, both savoring the closeness of each other's bodies after so long apart.

Once the initial shock wore off, she pulled back to get a better look at him. Though he looked a little fatigued by his journey and everything else he'd been through, there was that same mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Bringing her hand to his face, she touched the smooth skin gently still not completely able to believe it was real.

"How?" was the only word she could formulate.

"Got a week's leave at the last minute and thought I might surprise you," he said as he reached for a strand of her hair that had fallen out of her cap.

"Well, you certainly did that." No wonder Mary had been unable to hide a smile, she'd been keeping a secret.

"I'm staying at a hotel in Boulogne. Perhaps you might find yourself available in the next few days."

"Oh?" she said playfully. "And just might we do with our time off?"

He leaned forward and she could feel his breath on her cheek as he spoke in her ear.

"I have a few ideas," his voice rumbled deep within his throat sending shivers down her spine.

As he lowered his lips onto hers, she knew that whatever doubts she had had about their relationship could be wiped clean away.

And the three words that he whispered into her ear were the final proof.