Thank you to everyone you reviewed, favourited and followed – I am overwhelmed and honoured. I had to take a day off writing because every time I closed my eyes I saw words. Here's another chapter. I still own nothing.

Three days. He'd been gone for three days and not a single text, not one.

"Bloody Sherlock." She cursed, throwing her phone on her bed. She knew that he was okay. John had been texting Mary who had been texting her and she was grateful for that. Still one text saying 'I'm Okay' would be fine. Mary had offered their spare room so the Molly didn't have to wait alone at Baker Street, especially since the keys to her flat were currently sitting on her coffe table in her flat. Thankfully Sherlock could pick the lock – if she didn't kill him once he got back that is. To make matters worse she was working a doube shift today 9am-1am. Perhaps she could pretend that every person she sliced open was Sherlock? Shaking her head she grapped her phone and stompped to the living room where she put on her shoes, grabbed her coat and left.

In the morgue the hand over form the previous pathlogist was a simple one, which is good because Molly wasn't really listening. Alone she finally let herself relax and get on with the job. Twelve hours in and she was exhausted. Her feet were throbbing, her back ached and all she wanteed was a hot bath. Taking a seat she decided some paperwork was in order. Thirty minutes later her phone beeped.

John just said that they are on their way back. Mary

She grunted in annoyance.

Tell John I say hi when you see him.

What about Sherlok? Mary

She mumbed, thumbs flying across the keyboard.

Who's Sherlock? I know no Sherlock.

Uh Oh. Mary

Yep.

You sure? Mary

Mary I didn't hear from him once the whole time they were away. Not once. I ought to punch him in his pretty face.

You won't though. Mary

No, I won't.

The text conversation ended there and Molly continued her paper work.

Finally her shift was over. Hailing a cab she headed to Baker Street. Scanning the lounge of Baker Street she saw no changes. No coat, or shoes, or forgotten tea cups. Unsure of how she felt she headed to the shower.

The bed felt amazing, her skin was tingling and her muscles relaxing. Before she knew it she was asleep. The bed dipped and she found herself awoken.

"Go back to sleep Molly. It's only me."

Nodding sleepily she followed his request.

The sun peaked through the gap in the curtains causing Molly Hooper to wake up. Behind her still very much asleep lay Sherlock. She sighed thankful that he was okay. Then she remembered that she was angry at him. Removing herself from the bed she opened the bedroom door only too slam it behind her.

"Molly!" Came a sleepy grumble from the bedroom. Choosing to ignore it Molly popped the kettle on. She opened cupbardss and slammed them shut searching for the ingredients she need for breakfast.

"What on earth is all this racket about?"

She turned to face him. "Oh I'm sorry did I wake you?"

His eyes narrowed but he said nothing. Molly went back to her previous task minus the slamming.

"You're mad at me." As is usual with Sherlock it wasn't a queestion.

"Yes I am."

Sherlock was shocked, he hadn't expected her to be so forth right with that information.

Stopping what she was doing Molly turned to face him. "How many times did you text John while you were away?"

"Twenty three."

"And Mary?"

"Eighteen."

"And how many times did you text me?"

"I was going to."

"Zero Sherlock. You text me exactly zero times. You were away and you text your best friend who was with you and his wife more than you did your girfriend."

"Not good?"

"It's a bit more then not good. It's shit. What you did was a shitty thing to do."

Sherlock stared at her, not really understanding.

"I was worried about you. You were gone for what four days? And I didn't hear from you at all. Do you undeerstand Sherock? I was scareed that you were hurt or worse."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you." Tentatively he stepped towards her. "I didn't think."

She took a step backwards. "That's the problem Sherlock you didn't think. I knew when we starting dating that you wouldn't be like oher guys I've dated."

He flinched slightly at being compared.

"And I was okay with that. More than okay." She took a deep breath. "I know how you get when you're on a case; the case is all that matters and that is part of what makes you brilliant. All I want is for you to text me every so often if you're on a case. I just want to know that you're okay." She tilted her head. "Do you think that you can do that?"

He nodded once.

"Just a text every so often." She clarifyied. "Or a text from John that you're okay. I just worry."

"Alright I can do that."

"Thank you." Grabbing his hand she pulled him close and hugged him. "Welcome home." As she held him tighter she noticed that he flinched. Dropping her arms immediately she looked up at him. "What happened?"

"Got in to a scuffle with one of the suspects. He got a few good shots in."

"Liftup your shirt."

Sherlock did so reluctantly. Molly gasped; on his left side, over his ribs was a mash of black, purple and green bruising. "Oh my god."

"It's fine Molly."

"No it's not we have to strap this."

"Mmm John said the same thing."

"Why didn't you listen to him?"

"Didn't want him to get the wrong idea about me." He smiled cheekily.

"Sure, sure. You stay here and I will grab some bandages."

While Molly was gone Sherlock made the mental note to text her when he was on cases. He stored it away in his mind palace in the filing cabinet in Molly's room. A room which was growing bigger by the day.

Molly returned with first aid kit in hand. Placing it on the kitchen table she turned to Sherlock and started to undo the buttons on his shirt. She shook her head. "I should have noticed there was something wrong, you never sleep in you shirts." Silently berating herself she removed the shirt and started on his undershirt. Sherlock tried to move his arm upwards but hissed in pain instead.

"Sorry."

He looked down at her. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Well I am sorry anyway."

With his shirt and undershirt removed Molly got to work carefully bandaging Sherlock's ribs. Sherlock had to admit that he felt a lot better with the banadages on. Kissing Molly as thanks he moving slowly to sit in his chair. A few minutes later Molly placed a cup of tea in front of him before sitting opposite him with her own tea.

"So tell me about the case."

He cleared his throat. "A dead firefighter found in the smouldering embers of a burnt out building but he has no soot or burn marks on his face, no smoke inhalation. So how'd he get there?"

Molly snuggled further into the seat ready to hear the story.

Phew another one done. Please review and let me know what you think.