A/N: Just a little Sherlolly drabble based on the song with the same name by Elvis, set after Sherlock's return. Based around the premise that Sherlock kept in touch and occasionally stayed with Molly after his 'death.' Hope you enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

You Don't Have To Say You Love Me

…
When I said I needed you
You said you would always stay
It wasn't me who changed but you
And now you've gone away

Don't you see
That now you're gone
And I'm left here on my own
That I have to follow you
And beg you to come home?
- 'You Don't Have To Say You Love Me,' Elvis
…

Molly sat up with a start as someone fell through her window.

Terrified, she reached for the book on her bedside table as the figure stood up. She was about to throw it when the figure spoke.

"Well, that was tedious," commented a familiar voice.

Surprised, Molly dropped the book and snapped on the light to find Sherlock fixing his suit jacket. He blinked at the sudden light before his expression brightened a little as his eyes fell on her.

"Ah, Molly, there you are," he said pleasantly.

Molly sat up properly, "What are you doing here?"

"You disappeared," he explained taking a step closer to the bed, "I was…concerned."

"I didn't disappear," she protested, "I'm on holiday."

Sherlock glanced around the hotel room, "So I see."

He regarded her for a long moment, "You didn't tell me you were going," he said finally.

Molly shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and concentrated on adjusting the blankets, "Yes, well, you were busy with…everything," she explained, looking back up with a strained smile.

His eyes narrowed slightly, "You're upset."

Molly shook her head with a self-deprecating smile, "No, I'm just…tired."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed further as he regarded her, "Tired?"

Molly made a small, exasperated gesture with her hands, "It hasn't been easy Sherlock," she said quietly, "I had to lie to…everyone." She looked down at her hands, "I didn't know what you were doing, when you'd be back and then you were back and…" she gave a short laugh, "nothing had changed." She glanced up at him, "Not that I expected it to but…I just needed some time," she held his gaze, "I need some time."

Sherlock nodded slowly as comprehension dawned, "I see."

He started back towards the window and stopped, "You're not…" he began, turning back to look at her, "you will come back?" he asked, looking a little lost.

Molly wasn't sure how to answer his question and was surprised as his shoulders slumped in defeat and he stumbled backwards as though he'd been struck.

"You have to come back," he said thickly, "I've been away so long…I'm not sure I can do this without you."

Molly's brow creased in confusion, "Do what?"

Sherlock scoffed and looked away. He took a few angry strides around the room, but she sensed that it wasn't her he was angry with.

"Cope," he said finally, stopping his pacing and looking back at her.

Molly gaped at him in surprise.

"You were my lifeline Molly," he said, his tone taking on a hoarse edge as he took a couple of steps closer to the bed. "The one constant in my life, the one thing – the only thing – that I could count on and I…I need you," he confessed.

"Your importance has not diminished despite my return," he continued, holding her gaze steadily and stepping right up to the bedside, "in fact, I would almost say it has increased."

For the second time that evening Molly found herself at a loss for words. Her eyes, however, told him all he needed to know and he gave her a half-smile.

"Take all the time you need, Molly," he said softly, taking a step back, "just remember to come home."

At the word 'home' she gave him a warm, genuine smile – the first that he'd seen in a long time – and he couldn't help smiling back just as warmly as he ducked back out the window.

He closed the window carefully behind him and took a steadying breath.

Everything was going to be fine. Molly wasn't going to leave him and, when she did return, perhaps he could offer her a reason to stay.

Forever.