The prompt is "Sleep" provided by mylovelymindpalace. :)

When Sherlock had last looked up from the microscope, Molly was slowly getting her way through some paperwork. This time, however, her head rested on the stack of papers on her desk, breathing steadily. At first, he found her steady breathing calming and it helped him focus. As she fell into deeper sleep and her breathing grew louder, Sherlock realized that he should probably wake her up or take her home. She was working the night shift today, and it was almost time for her to leave anyways. He sighed, wanting to finish examining the tree bark on the slide of the microscope, but decided that it was already late enough and should be getting home.
Sherlock stood up and strode towards the door to put on his coat and scarf. Turning back towards Molly, he poked her forearm. He wasn't used to having to wake people up- he was usually the last one to awaken anyhow; Mrs. Hudson was an early riser naturally, and John's a light sleeper. Waking people up was one of the little things that made Sherlock feel awkward. Sherlock looked around behind him, as if someone had magically appeared in the lab at 11:45 pm, then slightly shook her arm, causing her to wake up slightly.
"Hm?" she moaned, raising her head off of the stack of papers but not opening her eyes. "What time is it? Sherlock?" she asked.
"It's eleven-forty-five." Sherlock said simply in response. "It's time for you to go home."
Molly opened her eyes and looked at Sherlock. He helped her stand up and handed Molly her purse.
"Ow," Molly moaned, putting her palm against her forehead. Her whole head was thumping and in pain.
"Headache?" Sherlock asked, but it seemed more like a statement than a question. He lead Molly towards the door and held it open for her.
She walked through and nodded slightly as a thank you. "Yeah," Molly replied, "it's hurting more with every step."
"I'll get you home." he reassured her.

As soon as Sherlock hailed a taxi (it took a little while longer considering it was almost midnight), he told the cabbie to go to Molly's flat. When they arrived, Sherlock opened the door with the keys he fished out of her purse. Molly, who was still half-asleep, walked in and collapsed on her sofa and groaned. "Pain medicine," she grumbled into the pillow. "Get the tylenol."
Sherlock snooped around her kitchen cabinets and drawers until he found some pain relief pills for headaches. As he searched, he noticed quite a few bottles of wines and vodka sitting on the counter. There was only a bit left in each bottle, and they're each fairly new. She must have shared it with a few other people. John mentioned something about going with his girlfriend- Megan or Mary, he thought as he tried to remember her name -out to drink with one of her friends. Weren't she and Molly friends? That was obviously where she got her headache from; she had drank a little more than she would've liked.

Sherlock handed her the tylenol as she reawakened. Her face was pale, eyes a light shade of red, bags under her eyes, slow, tired movements. She obviously needed some water and some rest. He knew what to do- give her some tylenol, have her drink a glass or two of water, and put her into bed -he just didn't know if he could apply the appearance that he cared. He obviously did, but he wasn't the best at showing it. John was better at that sort of thing, but he will most likely wake up in a few hours to vomit from the alcohol. He went back to the kitchen and got her a glass of water.
"Drink it." He said, handing it to her. She looked up at him with tired eyes and took the glass and started to gulp down the cold, clean water.
Sherlock grabbed her wrist to take her pulse, then helped her stand up. "You need to sleep," he told her softly.
"I... I know.." she replied. He guided her to her bedroom. He gently laid her down into bed and pulled the covers over her.
Sherlock leaned down to look at her. Long eyelashes, smooth skin, silky brown hair. She looked so delicate and beautiful- like a rose. A rose, yes, that's what she reminded him of. Sherlock started to walk away, but Molly grabbed onto his hand before he could walk away.
"Stay here. Just for a little bit." she said, obviously sleep talking- her eyes were closed and she wouldn't have done that if she had her senses.
Without a word, Sherlock sat down at the edge of the bed. Molly was still holding onto his hand.
After a few minutes, her grip loosened on his hand and he slowly stood up, trying not to disturb her.

Sherlock leaned down and gently kissed her on the forehead. "Goodnight Molly."

I hope you all enjoyed it! It's not the best, and I tried not to make it similar to the previous chapter. :)

~Cameron