Molly tosses and turns in her sleep, John's old bed not as comfortable as her own at her house. Sighing, she sits up and gazes out the window at the moon and the wispy clouds that obstruct part of it. She rubs her face and decides to see if Sherlock had ever gone to bed. Sneaking down the creaky staircase, she slowly opens the slightly cracked door of 221B.

She stops in her tracks she sees the sight in front of her. Sherlock was sound asleep, crumpled into a ball in his leather chair, the tea on his table cold, and his face tear-stained. Luckily, he was in pj's, so he had changed at some point during the night. Biting her lower lip, she inches closer to him and gently brushes a stray curl out of his eyes. As she pulls her hand away slowly, his eyes flutter and he stares up at her silently.

Immediately feeling her cheeks heat up with embarrassment, she begins to speak but he stops her. "Don't apologize. It's fine." He sits up and stretches, looking at her through the corner of his eye.

"Right. I-I couldn't sleep, so I figured I'd check and see if you could."

"Oh. Okay, well um…that was...kind of you."

"How are you holding up?", Molly asks softly. "I know this is affecting you, Sherlock. I've known you for a long time now. You don't have to hide from me."

Sherlock lets out a disgruntled sigh and looks at her. "I know...it's just...it's not my area. You know I'm not the best at expressing feelings, and yet I keep failing at keeping them hidden because they escape anyway."

"I know how that is, I've never really been able to hide mine as much as I wanted to."

Sherlock smiles slightly and nods. "That's true."

Molly blushes and smiles at him softly. "We should probably try to sleep at some point tonight, hm?"

"That's a great idea if only we could." He stands up and moves towards her slowly, his figure looming over her smaller frame. It is reminiscent of all those years ago in Bart's lab, as well as when he returned from being "dead" and they had gone on a case. The dreaded day he found out she was engaged; though it wasn't a terrible day, they shared a lot of friendly moments which was nice.

Peering up at him, she swallows slightly and blinks as he gazes down at her. "Y-yes, if only we could."

"Molly?"

"Yes?"

Sherlock chews his lip and thinks quickly about how to phrase this question. "Would you like to um...try...together?"

"Sleep together?...wait, no! no! I-I didn't mean…!"

Sherlock begins to laugh, a full-bodied deep velvet belly laugh. Molly snorts at his bout of silliness and begins to laugh as well. "Stoppp, wait! That's not what I meant!"

"I know", he manages to get out between chuckles. "I know, but it was funny. Just a classic foot-in-mouth Molly blunder."

She can feel her cheeks flaming red and covers her face, giggling softly. "Sorry."

"It's fine", he smiles. "But the offer still stands. I know it's probably more for me than you, but...still."

"Like when you were dead to the world and weren't yourself", she asks softly, remembering the times she held him in her bed when he was devastated.

"Er, yes. If it's not a problem for you."

"No...it's not a problem, but you're sure? I don't want to invade your space or anything. This is your flat, not my house."

"I know that. I asked you, so it's up to you", he replies, shifting a bit uncomfortably on his feet now.

Molly nods slowly and holds out her hand. "Lead the way."

She could have sworn that she saw him blush a bit as he gently takes her smaller hand in his larger one and leads her down the hallway to his bedroom. She knew where it was, of course, from the times she had come over to check on him when he had been detoxing after the hospital.

Closing the door lightly behind them, Sherlock climbs into his side of the bed and peels back the blankets on the other side, beckoning her to join him. In any other instance, she may be extremely shy and overthinking this, but she's exhausted and doesn't have the energy to be so anxious.

Climbing under the blankets she turns towards him, and he wordlessly draws her into his arms.

"I hope you don't feel as if I'm using you", he whispers. His face is so close to hers she could faint.

"No, I...I don't. Everyone just needs someone sometimes. Even two of the loneliest people who are generally okay with being alone."

Sherlock looks into her eyes and nods. "You always see through me. You and Mrs. Hudson always. Now her I could understand since she had known me from when I was practically a child. But you, Molly Hooper. You could see me from the moment I met you. Always. And I never really give you credit for it. Maybe because I didn't want to. Maybe because it was scary having someone who could do to me that I could do to others. I hide within myself often. If not to evade threats, then to evade confrontation. As unbelievable as that may seem. But you always seem to just know and admittedly, it can be a relief sometimes. Like now."

"I'm glad you allow me to see you. I think you've always known I was safe and trustworthy so maybe subconsciously you just allowed me. Either way, I'm grateful. We've been through a lot of shit...but I would never betray your trust."

"I know. I should thank you more often. So thank you. I mean it, Molly."

"You're welcome, Sherlock. Now try and sleep, hm?"

As her eyes drift closes, she can smell the lovely scent of him. Aftershave with a hint of nearly day-old cologne, mixed with the slightest smell of tobacco. Of course, he had snuck in a smoke, as Martha's death is a horrible blow to him. Molly wonders if it's the only death of someone close to him that he has ever experienced. Well, since the pain of experiencing Victor's was stolen from him.

Looking up at him, she realizes that he's slowly drifting off and her heart aches for him, knowing how much he must be hurting, especially not knowing how he should feel or react in regard to something like this.

"Sleep well, Sherlock", she murmurs as her eyes close.

"Mhh...love you too", he mumbles back.

Molly's eyes shoot open again and look over at Sherlock, who is now fast asleep.