"Molly! Molly, can you hear me?"
Molly groaned and squeezed her eyes more tightly shut, willing that voice away. She didn't want to be awake; her head and her hand both throbbed with pain. But the voice wouldn't go away, and soon it was joined by the feel of someone's hands on her, turning her onto her back, gently running over her body, lightly touching her face.
"Molly, I know you're conscious so answer me, dammit!"
Her eyes flew open as she finally recognized the owner of both voice and hands. "Sh-sherlock?" she said groggily, wincing as her left palm flared with renewed pain.
Sherlock was leaning over her, and something about that was very, very wrong, but she couldn't quite figure out why. Her thoughts were scattered, fuzzy, skittering away from her every time she tried to catch hold of them. "Why am I on the floor?" she finally asked as she allowed him to help her sit up.
Oh, wait, that's what was wrong! "Sherlock!" she gasped out, mind and eyes both finally snapping into focus as she stared up at him. "You shouldn't be out of bed, your injuries…!"
"Are apparently fully healed," he interrupted her with a grin that morphed into a frown as he lightly ran his fingers over the lump on the back of her head. "Which is more than I can say for either you or John."
Molly allowed Sherlock to help her to a sitting position, automatically scanning the room as he did so. "Where's John? What happened to us?"
"He's looking for a burn kit for you." Sherlock carefully held up her hand, showing her the scorched and shredded bandages that had once covered her palm. The nasty burn she could see beneath them certainly explained the throbbing pain...but she still had no idea how she'd been burnt in the first place. "He has a nasty bump on his head, much like yours but managed to escape any other injury."
"I don't understand, what happened to us?" she asked. Her eyes widened and she let out a little gasp as she took in the fact that the bandages wrapped around Sherlock's chest were also singed - right over his heart.
"If I had to guess - which I never do, indicates sloppy thinking even for a human - I'd say that there must have been vestiges of divine energy in the sigils that transferred to you when we first met," he said. "Energy that was released when you laid your hand on my chest, thus healing my injuries - although having an unfortunate effect on the two of you at the same time."
"But I've touched you lots of times," Molly protested. "This wasn't even bare skin to bare skin!"
"But not with your left hand to my chest, not since I was turned human," he pointed out.
"Is that even possible?" Molly asked, still staring at her hand. It was impossible to see anything beneath the nasty looking burn that marred her flesh.
"Obviously it's possible, since it happened," Sherlock replied. "No other explanation makes sense, especially when you consider this."
"Consider what...oh," Molly said, feeling another wave of dizziness pass over her as Sherlock tugged at the scorched bandages so that she could see the skin over his heart. It took her a moment to understand what she was seeing, and as she did she gave a smothered gasp.
Scars, raised welts, in the shape of the angelic script that had once resided there. She raised her eyes to his, her lips trembling with emotion, as he cupped her hand in his, palm up. "Look," he urged her, and she allowed her gaze to drop. She sucked in her breath as she saw the burn slowly fading away, along with the silvery markings that had adorned her palm since that fateful first meeting with Sherlock. No scars, not a sign that her hand had ever been anything but human flesh and bone.
As the sigils vanished, so did the pain, leaving nothing but a slight tingle that gradually faded as well. She looked up, awe-struck, to see Sherlock smiling down at her. He lifted her hand and pressed a gentle, reverent kiss against her unmarked flesh. "And the greatest of these is love," he quoted softly. "Now I understand why the words were transferred from my flesh to yours."
"I don't," Molly admitted. "Are you saying that, um, I was meant to heal you?" She shied away from the question she really wanted to ask - did God plan this for us or did He just know it was going to happen?
"Maybe." Sherlock shrugged. "Some things aren't meant to be understood, at least not by humans. Thus the term 'ineffable'." He smiled at her, a tender, loving smile that made her knees go a bit rubbery - and definitely not from pain. "All I do know is, you healed me, Molly."
It was still hard for her to believe, and she definitely felt uneasy taking credit for it, even at second-hand. She chuckled nervously at the unintended double meaning. "I can see that all your cuts and bruises are gone," she admitted. "But what about your wrist? And your back?"
"I'm certain once the cast is removed, you'll find my wrist is completely healed as well," he reassured her. "As for my back, judging by the bit of tightness across my shoulders. I'd say I have some scarring." He pulled impatiently at the loosened bandages still partially covering his torso; once he'd removed them, he twisted round and there they were: two oval scars roughly the size of her hands where his wings had once been, but no longer the raw wounds that had been there only hours before.
"This...it looks like an old injury, something that happened years ago," she whispered in astonishment.
"All because of you."
"What's all because of Molly?" John demanded as he reentered the room, burn kit in hands.
Sherlock showed him his back and chest, rendering the other man momentarily speechless. "Oh, and you won't be needing that," he added, nodding at the burn kit. When John turned to Molly, she held out her now-healed hand and shrugged.
He shook his head and plopped onto the bed next to Molly. "'God moves in mysterious ways, his wonders to perform'," he quoted.
"Indeed he does," Sherlock agreed placidly. "We can debate the whys and wherefores of it later, if you don't mind." He smiled down at Molly. "Right now, I'd very much like you to remove this cast so I can go home with Molly so we can have some life-affirming sex - and I'm sure you'll want to do the same with Mary."
John shook his head and pointed at Sherlock. "No," he said loudly. "Not talking about that with you. You're going to have to learn human boundaries, just like I did."
"But surely you have some insight for me, John!" Molly wasn't sure if Sherlock was serious or if he was just taking the piss with the other man. "I've never had sex as a human and you have - at least four times since that's the number of offspring you and Mary have produced…"
"That subject is completely off limits," John said firmly. "And Mary and I have three children, I'll thank you to remember!"
"Mm, no, four," Sherlock corrected him smugly. "Or rather, soon to be four."
John gave him a suspicious look. "There's no way you could know something like that, not as a human!"
"John, how could you be so blind? You're married to the woman!" Sherlock scoffed. "Didn't you notice how affected she was by the sight of my blood, how green her complexion was as you worked on me? I might have been drifting in and out of consciousness and in the worst pain of my life, but I can assure you, the signs were still there for anyone to see!"
John threw up his hands in a gesture of aggravated surrender. "Fine, I'll ask her when I get home. Which," he added sternly, "won't be until I'm absolutely sure you're as fully healed as you appear to be. From the physical trauma, anyway. Not much I can do about any potential emotional trauma until and unless it manifests itself."
"Unlikely; I made the choice to be human with my eyes wide open, just as you did," Sherlock replied with a huff.
"Yeah, and I developed a form of PTSD that last for a good two years," John shot back. "So don't think it can't happen to you. Just remember - if it does, don't try to ignore it or it'll only get worse."
"Don't worry, John," Molly interjected as she tucked herself against Sherlock's side, his arm automatically encircling her shoulder. "I'll be there for him, just as Mary was for you. And I know you'll do everything you can to help make this transition work."
"Yeah, course I will," John replied with a small smile. "Now, let's see what's going on under that cast, make sure everything's in working order and get the three of us out of here, shall we?"
A/N: I couldn't have found a more perfect title for this chapter if I tried. It's an Elton John song and I urge you to listen to it, or at least check out the lyrics! Thank you to lilsherlockian1975 for reading this over for me, and I hope you enjoy the direction the story's taking!