Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. It all belongs to the genius minds, who created it.
None of them knew how often Sherlock would return to London. Not even Mycroft who was sure that he was following his brothers every move.
When he did return it wasn't for any good reason, a lot of the time he was injured and needed to stay out of sight, so he couldn't go to Mycroft, because there was rules between the brothers and some of Sherlock's actions would easily cause Mycroft to take action and ruin the carefully crafted plan he had set out in his mind.
So when Sherlock would end up in one of these scenarios, he would go to the only person he could. Molly Hooper, had known that Sherlock would use her place when needed but she just didn't realise how often that would be and how regularly she would be having to clean up a wound of his.
Many arguments arose between the two, because Molly was terrified for his safety and wanted him to get help off Mycroft, but Sherlock was adamant about his decision. It was his mission and he was going to be doing it his way. Molly had given up arguing after about five months. She wouldn't win.
What she wasn't expecting though was the amount of time Sherlock would spend in her flat, being almost domestic. She would come home from work and find him bleeding on her sofa, where she would then go about cleaning and fixing him up, before he would eat whatever she offered him and then lay there. She would go about her usual routine around the flat and he would just be laying there. Usually with Toby perched on his stomach and after a couple of weeks he started to stroke the animal and Molly wasn't even sure that Sherlock knew what he was doing.
As the months went on Sherlock started to come less and less, either he was staying safer or he was too deep in to be able to make it back to London. It was a welcome relief when she would come home to find him bleeding on her sofa. She was just glad he was alive. She did refrain from questioning him on some of the marks she found whilst fixing him up. She knew he wouldn't talk and it was no use trying to make him. She knew just how stubborn he could be.
Maybe when this was all over, he might come and visit her flat for social calls, he had almost become domesticated staying with her over all this time and it would be nice to see him laying on her sofa, not bleeding over it.
She let these thoughts pass through her mind as she helped him get his coat on. He straightened himself out and turned to her and smiled. "Thank you for everything." He says and Molly's breath catches, it's almost as if he's saying his final goodbye to her. He kisses her gently on the cheek and then he's gone into the night and she's left there standing. "Anytime." She whispers into the empty flat and then goes to bed. Not wanting to think about what might be happening to him when he returns from wherever he had been.
She wishes into the night, that he will come home, and bleed on her sofa, just once more. That's all she wants. Seven months later when Mycroft calls and tells her he's got to go and collect Sherlock himself, she feels both relief and worry. He's alive at least, but can't get out on his own. That's a bad sign for everyone. She flutters about her flat for the next couple of days. Waiting, hoping for something, anything.
Then she's woken a few nights later, by some soft banging in her living room. She gets up nervously and sneaks slowly through the flat. Switching the light on she jumps back at seeing Sherlock standing there, looking so much worse that she had ever seen him. But he was standing in her living room, which was all that she had wanted for months now. She walked up to him and stood toe to toe, looking up at him. She could see the pain in his eyes, but she was glad to see something there, she was expecting him to shut down when he returned home. "Thank You." She says softly lifting a hand to rest against his cheek. He was looking at her strangely, but didn't move, he just stood there and absorbed the feeling of relief in the air.
Things were about to seriously change in the next few months but right now, they could both just be happy that Sherlock was standing there in front of her, alive and well, for the most part. She would check him over herself tomorrow, but that was a job for the daylight hours. Tonight she could go to bed knowing that he was sleeping, ten feet away from her and he was safe.
A/N: Reviews are appreciated, I will also take prompts. I'm also looking for a Beta, whose happy to edit for more than one fandom. Drop me a message and we can discuss, what I have.
