I am so glad that the last chapter was well received and that you can see Anderson in the role of the good guy turned bad. I know that you are all relieved that Molly is OK and being bad ass with the doctor but what of Sherlock? Shall we find out?

Chapter 21

Part of her felt sorry for the doctor. He was obviously a junior doctor left in charge of the less serious wards overnight...and from the looks of him he was barely out of university. He had no idea how to deal with a patient like her.

As she removed the cannula he started to panic a little. 'Please Miss...I mean...Doctor...you shouldn't be doing that?'

'Why not? My blood pressure is fine, the drugs are pretty much out of my system. I can discharge myself if I want to and I DO want to.'

She swung her legs off the bed but when she tried to stand she felt weak and wobbly; she took a deep breath as she tried to concentrate and keep going.

The doctor took her shoulder and pushed her gently back to sitting. 'Listen, I can see how much you want to leave but we both know you aren't ready.'

Molly flattened her lips and willed herself not to cry as she looked him in the eye. 'Please, I need to see my friend, I have to know that he's alright...help me.'

There was a beat of silence between them as he looked at her searchingly and then he nodded his head and Molly took another deep breath as she felt an element of relief wash over her.

'Wait here.'

She stayed where she was, sitting on the bed, trying to quell the panic that she felt every time she remembered Sherlock and how much blood she'd seen him losing. A moment or two and later the doctor returned with a wheelchair and a middle aged orderly.

'I've done some checking and Mr Holmes is in intensive care down on the second floor. Kelvin here will take you down but I want you back here in an hour. OK?'

Molly smiled weakly and nodded her head and then she allowed them to help her into the chair and it wasn't long before she was being wheeled through the ward and towards the lifts.

Normally she loved being in the hospital at night. It was one of the few places in the city that never stopped; life and death continued no matter what the time. People, both staff and patients, happy and sad, were still awake and active no matter the time; though she acknowledged it was a hideous place to come to to sleep.

They made their way through to the nurses station outside Intensive Care but when Molly got there and, after explaining who she was, enquired about Sherlock she was met with a blank face by the nurse.

She glanced down at her list. 'No, I'm sorry Mr Holmes isn't here.'

Molly felt her stomach drop and her mind seemed to draw away from what was being said. She didn't want to hear that he hadn't made it...that he was lying in the morgue. She closed her eyes and squeezed them shut but all she could see was Sherlock lying on one of her autopsy tables, partly covered by a white sheet.

Through the fog she could hear the orderly asking for more information, his hand squeezing her shoulder and offering comfort. He must have understood her distress.

Molly tried to control her breathing and regain some composure but it was only when the nurse started speaking that she truly felt hope.

'Oh I see his records now...it's alright Mr Holmes has been moved to a private room. He was here for a couple of hours but he wasn't deemed to need to be here in the ICU anymore. It was touch and go at first though. He'd lost a lot of blood and we didn't have enough of his type in stock...we had to do a call out in the hospital and in the end someone managed to contact his brother and he had to come in and donate. Anyway, he's in room 42 on the third floor.'

The orderly thanked her and then they were off again.

Finally they reached the room where Sherlock was and Molly only realised the level of stress that she had been enduring when it left her on sight of him. He wasn't conscious, he didn't notice her being wheeled in, but she could see his chest rising with his breathing, she could see some colour in his cheeks and the arm that had been cut was lying bandaged at his side.

She also observed that he wasn't the only person in the room. His brother Mycroft had been stood at the window looking out on the city, illuminated as it was by thousands of street lights and headlights.

Kelvin parked her up at Sherlock's bedside and told her he'd come back for her in a little while and then he left the room.

Molly tentatively picked up Sherlock's free hand and exhaled in relief at finally being able to be with him.

Mycroft stood on the other side of the bed and when he spoke it was just a whisper so as to not disturb Sherlock.

'Dr Hooper, I had heard that you were also being treated, my apologies for not coming to check on you.'

Molly felt flattered but slightly confused. 'That's fine, I wouldn't have expected you to.'

Mycroft tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement. 'Maybe, but you are important to my brother and therefore important to me.'

Molly glanced back at Sherlock. 'How is he?'

There was a moment of silence and when Molly looked back at Mycroft she could see he was composing himself. 'It...it was touch and go for a moment. He'd lost far too much blood from the injury to his arm. Thank God I got here when I did. They didn't even wait to test my blood or bag it they just linked us and conducted a direct transfusion.'

He sat down heavily and Molly saw how much this incident had taken out of the older man. He always seemed so removed and cold but in this moment she could see how much affection he had for his brother and she liked him all the more for it.

'And how are you Dr Hooper?'

'Please, call me Molly. And I'm fine. The drugs that Anderson injected me with are more or less out of my system and other than a headache and hunger I feel OK. I'm just glad Sherlock found me. I have no idea how he managed it but he did and it saved my life.'

Mycroft let out a sigh and raised an eyebrow. 'Ah well that's one thing I can answer. Apparently he'd stolen a tracking device from my office the last time he was in and he'd put it into your watch. As soon as he knew you'd been taken he rang me asking for it to be activated so he could locate you. I ought to be angry with him for the theft but I suppose the results justify the means. Maybe from now on we can keep tabs on you officially rather than in an amateur way, given you're almost one of the family.'

Molly wanted to ask him what he meant by that last statement but he was already standing and making his way to the door.

'I'm in need of some air and some coffee, maybe even a cigarette...plus I'm sure you want some time alone with my brother. I shall be back shortly...good evening...Molly.'

As he closed the door behind him Molly felt the weight of everything that had happened to them finally overwhelm her and she lay her cheek on the back of Sherlock's hand and she sobbed. She tried not to make too much noise so as to not disturb him but it needed to come out. She felt both angry and sad at what had happened...not just to her but to all those women. How had Anderson become so twisted and how had they all missed it? Maybe he was right in some ways, he was always overlooked and disregarded...but still, it would never justify what he had done.

Finally her grief ebbed away and she sat up pulling a tissue from the box by Sherlock's bed so she could wipe her face and blow her nose.

She held his hand once more but when she looked up at his face she was surprised to see that his eyes were open. He blinked them once...twice and then turned his head to face her; their eyes meeting and his mouth forming a tired smile.

'Hey you, how are you feeling?'

She saw him swallowing and his mouth moving as he tried to reply but it took him a moment.

'I feel like shit. You?'

She chuckled. 'I feel alive and it's all thanks to you. If you...if you hadn't found me...I...'

He struggled to sit up a little. 'Hey..shh. There's no need to thank me...Molly, I couldn't go on if anything had happened to you. It was all because of me...because of his damned obsession with me and with Jack the Ripper. If anything I should be apologising to you...'

She leant forward and put one finger over his lips. 'No, it's not your fault. It will never be your fault if I'm targeted because of you. I...I want to be with you no matter the risks.'

She stood on legs that were still shaky and then sat on the edge of his bed so she could lean over him and kiss him.

The feeling of her lips touching his was that of coming home and even as she felt his hand warm and solid on her waist she wanted to be closer to him...she felt in that moment like she didn't ever want to leave his side again.

And so it was that when Mycroft returned he found Molly lying at Sherlock's side with his arm holding her close as they quietly talked.

It was a strange sight, one that Mycroft had thought he would never see but now he did it felt right. He had always worried about his brother, about the drug use and the trauma in his past and how it could unravel him in the future. He had thought that keeping Sherlock's emotions in check would be the key but in recent months he had realised that that was where he had gone wrong. His brother wasn't like him...he was driven by his emotions and suppressing them had caused more damage than unlocking them.

Maybe Molly Hooper was the key when it came to helping him...he certainly hoped so. He felt closer to his brother now than he had ever done. Eurus had united them in a way he hadn't expected and he just didn't want to go back to how things had been before.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Sherlock was only kept in for another 24 hours and by then Molly had been released and she had returned home, to her flat. John had returned from his break and he accompanied her for emotional support. Together they had packed up the remains of her belongings and moved once and for all into Baker St.

To say that John had been surprised by the turn of events in his best friend's life was an understatement. He had returned home from his break with Rosie to find Sherlock in hospital, Anderson arrested as a serial killer and Molly needing his help with moving.

'I hope you don't mind coming to the flat with me but after everything that happened the last time I came back I just feel a bit...well...'

John had smiled and patted her arm. 'Molly, it's fine. I get it. Just...I still can't believe it was Anderson.'

Molly nodded in agreement. 'If I hadn't have seen him for myself I don't think I would have believed it either but it was as though something had broken inside him...the things he said were just so awful. I really liked the guy...he seemed nice. It just goes to show that we never really know someone.'

'Tell me about it...I remember how I felt when I first found out Mary's history. So anyway, moving into my old room at Baker St, that's a bit of a change. You could have knocked me down with a feather when you told me that on the phone this morning. How do you think you and Sherlock will get on? He can be an arse so start as you mean to go on or he'll just think he's got another slave.'

Molly felt nervous as she realised that John probably didn't know about her and Sherlock.

'Yes, well, about that...I'm not actually moving into your old room. I mean I was; that was the original plan...but I'm actually moving in with him...properly I mean.'

Even as she finished speaking she knew she had worded it badly and she could tell she had by the confused look on John's face.

'Sorry, not sure I understand what you mean Molly.'

By now they had reached the door to Molly's flat and she avoided his eyes as she concentrated on undoing the lock.

'I mean we're together...romantically. It just sort of happened...well, when I say sort of happened I mean Sherlock bought my flat so that I'd have to move in with him.'

Poor John, she felt almost sorry for him because as she entered the flat she realised he was still stood in the doorway with such a look of shock on his face it was almost comical.

'Hang on...he bought your flat?'

Molly chuckled. 'I know. Most guys would just ask a girl out but that was far too normal for Sherlock. He wanted a way to get closer to me and so he bought my flat so I'd move in with him. He explained it all when I was with him in hospital...I think it's sweet.'

John shook his head in disbelief and followed her through to the front room. 'Sweet! No wonder you're perfect for him Molly you're as weird as he is. Now what needs moving?'

The worst is over and they're both OK but it's not quite the end we still have two more chapters to go. Let me know how you found the reunion and I'll be back in a few days with the next chapter xx