A/N: Sherlolly songfic based on All of Me by Matt Hammitt. Because I'm a sucker for songs that make me cry happy tears.

Afraid to love something that could break. Could I move on if you were torn away? And I'm so close to what I can't control. I can't give you half my heart and pray He makes you whole

The faint beep of the heartrate monitor penetrated the muggy haze of her mind. Slowly, the clatter of footsteps and disjointed conversation seeped in, drawing her further out of the fog. With great effort, Molly managed to open her lethargic eyelids, blinking away the grit of sleep to see a fuzzy white ceiling.

She groaned as she inhaled deeply and a deep ache pierced her abdomen.

'Molly?'

A blur of black and blue suddenly appeared over her. As her vision focused, she could make out the pale face of Sherlock Holmes, his curls matted on one side and red sleep lines crossing his cheek. His eyes, though, were wide and filled with tears and hope.

Her brow furrowed in confusion and she tried to lift her hand to wipe at the uncharacteristic tear that was slowly making its way down his face, but the effort was too much and her hand fell back to her side.

'Moriarty?' She rasped, her hoarse voice cracking from dryness and disuse.

Sherlock grabbed her tired hand and pressed it to his chest. 'He's gone. For good, Molly.'

Relaxing back into the bed, Molly closed her eyes in relief.

'He won't hurt you again. No one will.' Sherlock squeezed her hand and leaned over to press his forehead to hers. He took a shaky breath and whispered, 'I promise.'

Already drifting back into oblivion, Molly dismissed his strange behaviour as a dream, a nice fairytale after Moriarty's torture.

You're gonna have all of me. You're gonna have all of me.
Cause you're worth every falling tear… you're worth facing any fear

The stairs to 221b Baker Street had never seemed insurmountable before. But as Molly looked up at them, a hand pressed to the thick bandage around her waist, she suddenly felt very weak. Beside her, Sherlock held out his arm.

'You can do this.' He said encouragingly. Molly placed one hand on his arm and braced the other on the stair rail. Taking as deep a breath as she could, she placed a shaky, but determined foot on the first step. Slowly and painfully, she made her way to the first landing, Sherlock offering as much support as she'd take.

Breathing heavily and sweating from strain, Molly bit back tears as she rested on the landing. Her ribs ached terribly and her stitches were pulling tightly as she tried to catch her breath. Sherlock guided her to sit on the stairs and gently wrapped his arm around her.

The tears she'd tried to hold in quietly fell as she leaned into his comfort. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered.

She closed her eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. 'Never be sorry. Give yourself and your body time to heal.'

'I just…' She trailed off as a fresh wave of tears came. 'I just hate being weak.'

'You're not weak,' he said firmly. 'You're a fighter. You fought Moriarty and won. You fought death and won. You, Molly Hooper, are anything but weak.'

She smiled briefly into his shoulder and he tugged her closer. After a few more minutes, she gently pushed herself up, ready to climb the final flight of stairs. This time, Sherlock tenderly wrapped his arm around her waist, helping lift her as she took each step carefully.

As she finally made it to the top and looked back, Molly felt the overwhelming helplessness that had plagued her for the entire month she'd spent in the hospital start to lift off her heart.

I won't let sadness steal you from my arms, I won't let pain keep you from my heart
I'll trade the fear of all that I could lose for every moment I share with you

The nightmares came with a vengeance. Terror and pain ricocheted in her mind as she flailed in the constricting bedsheets. One week into her stay at Baker Street and not a night had gone by that wasn't pierced with Molly's screams, her cries for help, her pleading for Sherlock to find her.

Sherlock would listen from his place on the sofa, his heart breaking at her cries, but not knowing how to comfort her. The guilt ate away at him as he heard her begging for him to come save her, even as John or Mary rushed into the spare bedroom to calm her down.

He'd failed her. Moriarty had taken someone infinitely precious to him and tore her into such broken pieces, even Sherlock, the great puzzle-solver, may never be able to put back together again. The heart he'd for so long denied having was shattering.

Her terror reached a fever pitch this night, Mary soothing her as a mother would, but Molly refused to go back to sleep, refused to be at the mercy of Moriarty again, even in her dreams.

Sherlock closed his eyes against the images her cries elicited. The Moriarty in his mind laughed maniacally, shouting about having finally managed to break Sherlock's heart.

No. Moriarty won't win.

Sherlock stood and slowly made his way into the room as Mary tried to comfort the broken woman. Molly's eyes were wide in fear, her body shaking and covered in sweat as she clutched Mary's shirt tightly, and she was struggling to breathe normally.

'Mary,' Sherlock whispered. 'I'll take it from here.'

Surprised and relieved, Mary nodded and extricated herself gently from the bed. Molly barely noticed as the person next to her changed from a warm, motherly figure to a muscular, uncertain figure.

Unsure of what to say or do, Sherlock let out a deep breath and relaxed into the bed, wrapping his arms loosely around Molly's still trembling form. She clutched at his dressing gown and burrowed into the crevice of his shoulder.

He pressed a firm hand to her back and held her tightly against his side. She breathed in deeply and suddenly relaxed. Sherlock glanced down to see her eyes flutter shut and her breathing beginning to even out. The tense and fearful lines around her eyes and mouth were gone. He brushed a hand across her forehead, pushing the sweat-slicked hair away from her face.

'I'm here, Molly,' he whispered as he twined his fingers through hers and held their clasped hands to his chest. 'I won't leave.'

His eyes drifted shut as Molly began to snore lightly, finally sleeping in peace.

You're gonna know all my love even if it's not enough
Enough to mend our broken hearts, but giving you all of me is where I'll start

'I think I'm ready to go home.'

Sherlock froze, his hands hovering over his laptop's keyboard. Looking up, he saw Molly standing in the doorway to the kitchen, nervously twisting her hands. In the past six weeks, her wounds had healed for the most part and the nightmares were few and far between. He hadn't considered that she'd want to leave.

He cleared his throat. 'If that's what you want. But you are more than welcome to… stay.'

She smiled briefly and his heart constricted. He missed the dimpled smiles, the way her eyes gleamed with joy, something he hadn't seen since before she'd been taken. It was just another thing Moriarty had stolen from them.

'Thank you, but I… I need to learn to be on my own again.' Her gaze flickered to the floor. A lie, in part.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. 'Have I done something?'

Molly shook her head and huffed a laugh. 'What haven't you done, Sherlock? You've taken care of me, comforted me, and helped me learn how to deal with… everything that happened.'

He stood and walked over to her, lifting her chin until she looked him in the eyes.

'What aren't you telling me?' He asked in confusion, seeing the unnamed emotions flicker across her face. He tenderly brushed his thumb across the line of her chin.

'You've put your entire life on hold for me,' she admitted sadly, closing her eyes in pain. A tear escaped and fell onto his thumb. Her words stumbled out in a rush as she pulled her face from his grasp. 'And while I am grateful, I… I don't want… I don't want you to do anything for me out of pity. Or some misplaced guilt. It wasn't your fault, I don't blame you in any way, and now that I'm almost fully healed, it's time I went home.'

Sherlock stared at her, brow furrowed, as he listened to her.

'I'm not doing this out of pity,' he said plainly. 'And I'm not doing it out of guilt.'

Molly stared at him with disbelieving eyes. 'Sherlock-'

'Have I ever done anything out of guilt or pity?' He chuckled ruefully. Taking a chance, he grasped her limp hands in his and held them against his chest, letting her feel the pounding of his racing heart. Her eyes widened and her hand spasmed against his chest in surprise.

'I'm doing this because I love you.' His eyes pleaded with her to believe him. Her pulse against his fingertips sped up and her wariness faded. 'When he took you, it broke my heart. Because you, you are my heart, Molly. And he broke you.'

She swallowed thickly as he stepped closer, staring down at her intently.

'My life hasn't been put on hold, because you are the most important thing in it and you needed me.' He leaned down slowly and pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as she breathed a sigh of capitulation. 'You needed me. And I need you.' Her breath hitched. 'Stay. Please.'

Her hand fisted the fabric of his shirt and she pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him.

'Okay.'

Heaven brought you to this moment, it's too wonderful to speak
So let me recklessly love you, even if I bleed

It was a cloudless day, the sun shining across the rolling hills under a brilliantly blue sky. The yard of the quaint redbrick cottage was decorated with tables and chairs and flowers.

A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, carrying a soft melody drawn from the violin strings and the newlyweds, barefoot and joyful, twirled slowly to the tune. The small number of guests happily watched as the groom cheekily dipped his bride back, her unbound hair tickling the grass. The scars on her body had long since faded and she smiled unreservedly, the joy that had been stolen from her returned tenfold by the man who held her so lovingly.

Setting Molly back on her feet, Sherlock lowered his head and kissed her tenderly. 'Thank you for marrying me, Mrs Holmes.'

Her eyes shone brightly and she beamed up at her new husband, the dimples he loved dearly appearing on her rosy cheeks. 'Thank you for saving me, Mr Holmes.'

You're worth all of me... you're worth all of me