A.N: Hey guys!

Wow this story made it to 90 followers thank you so much and even if the number of reviews is not that great I would like to thank you for sticking with me. A special shout out goesto Kittycatfight, DD, StellaRose, Guest, Carri007, mythlover20, superster, Renaissancebooklover108 and Arvingwen for taking the time to leave me a review. Believe it it's highly appreciated and you are the one keeping me inspired so, from the bottom of my heart, Thank you.

A big thank you also to the most efficient beta in the world. Georgia, thank you for your great work.

And again, in case you forgot I don't own Sherlock.

Anyways I hope you'll enjoy this chapter! Leave me a little review I adore reading you!

Steffy2106

Chapter 7:

"Come on Molly, wake up." Molly heard Sherlock's deep voice. She sighed, inhaling his deep scent. It had been months since she had this dream, waking up in Sherlock's arm. Was it a relapse?

Molly felt Sherlock's arms tighten around her, but as she gained consciousness the warm, fuzzy feeling began to fade and she realized that she had a pounding headache… It wasn't the kind of beautiful dream she usually had.

"She moved, John! Molly, open your eyes, come on now we need to move."

She frowned again. John? She opened her eyes and met Sherlock's worried ones. "Hi." She croaked, realizing she was lying on the floor, in Sherlock's arms – which was probably why his XS for men cologne was so strong in her nostrils.

She saw pure relief flash on Sherlock's face. "Hi," he smiled, before looking up at John. "She's awake."

John came closer and looked down to Molly. "We need to take you to the ER okay? You might have a concussion."

Molly tried to nod but she winced instead. She realised that Sherlock's hand was resting on her forehead.

"What happened?" She asked.

"That was my question," said Sherlock, lifting her from the floor and starting to follow John out of the morgue.

The headache was pounding and she closed her eyes.

"No, no Molly, look at me. Keep your eyes on me." Sherlock said, nudging her. "I know how much you like staring at me, Molly Hooper. Now is your chance."

She snorted but concentrated on his eyes, they were not really but actually… "Glasz" she whispered as they entered the ER.

"Excuse me?"

She shook her head and winced again.

After Sherlock and John left Molly with the doctor, they decided to go back to the morgue.

Sherlock looked at the small puddle of blood on the floor that was Molly's. He felt a furor and desire of revenge that took his breath away. He had never wanted to kill anyone more than he wanted to kill the person who had hurt Molly.

"Did you call Lestrade?" Sherlock asked, still looking at the blood.

"Yeah, he's on his way. The body's gone."

Sherlock nodded.

"Sherlock, are you okay?"

"Her attacker was tall - a man, obviously. After he hit her, she fell against the autopsy table which is how she hurt herself. He wanted to stop her from discovering anything on the body." Sherlock turned to John, "let's just hope she discovered what he didn't want her to."

"Aren't we waiting for Lestrade?"

"What for, John? There is nothing to be found here. I need to talk to Molly."

"Leave her alone tonight, Sherlock. She's been through a lot."

"I'll let her tell me that," said Sherlock, walking back towards the ER.

As Sherlock approached the room the doctor exited.

"May I see her?" Asked Sherlock.

"How is she doing?" John asked, throwing a reproachful look at Sherlock.

"Yes, that too." Sherlock nodded.

John sighed.

"She will be fine. She's suffering from a minor concussion and she needed stiches for a split arch of the eyebrow. She just needs to rest for a few days."

"But can I see her?" Sherlock insisted.

"If she feels good enough than I don't see why-"

"She's always up for seeing me." Sherlock replied, cutting him off.

When he walked in Molly was sitting up in the bed, looking out the window even though there was nothing to see on this dark night.

"How are you feeling?"

Molly turned, surprised to see Sherlock there. She hadn't thought he cared enough. "I'll be fine; I'll have a scar, though," she said pointing to her bandaged forehead. "There goes my model career." She added as a joke, but deep down this scar did bother her a little. Molly wasn't vain. She knew she was too far from being pretty to bother about being vain, but even so, she wasn't thrilled at the idea of a visible scar.

Sherlock shrugged with a small smile. "Who knows…perfection is overrated. I tend to think this scar will add character and make you even more charming, Molly Hooper."

Molly blushed slightly, she knew Sherlock was just trying to be nice but it touched her nonetheless. "Is there anything you need, Sherlock?"

"I want to know what happened." He stated, coming to stand closer to the bed.

Molly nodded. "Of course, the case first," she said - and she wasn't bitter because she knew she shouldn't have expected anything else. "I don't know much, Sherlock. Most of the tests I tried on the body were inconclusive until I took the ultra violet light and then…" Molly frowned. "There was something on his leg, a symbol. I reached behind me, but there was someone there and then everything went black."

"What was the symbol? Did you get a look at the person who hit you?"

"It was too fast, I… I'm not sure."

"Replay it Molly. Go to your mind palace."

Molly snorted. "I don't have a mind palace, Sherlock, I'm not you."

Sherlock sat on the side of the bed, surprising Molly by his closeness.

"You do have a mind palace Molly, you're brilliant! You just need to access it."

"I don't know how, Sher-" She stopped dead when Sherlock leaned and grabbed her face in his long, powerful and soft hands.

"But I do." Sherlock whispered, locking eyes with her.

Molly's breath hitched in her throat. She couldn't believe the effect that only his hands had on her; nothing Tom ever did affected her so completely. "What do I do?" She asked, voice shivering with emotion.

"Close your eyes." After she did so, Sherlock continued, still keeping his hands on her face. "Think of a place where you feel safe," he continued, his voice hypnotic.

He was so close she could feel his warm breath to her face.

"A place where you feel you belong… Do you have it?"

Molly barely nodded.

"Open your eyes Molly, not the real ones, but the one's in your mind."

Molly opened her eyes in her mind and found herself standing in the middle of Sherlock's living room. How could Sherlock's flat be her safe place?

"Look around Molly… Find the body." Sherlock had materialized in her head and was now sitting in his chair.

"The body?"

"Yes it's here, in this room find it…. Find it Molly."

Molly looked around, and found the body lying on Sherlock's kitchen table. She walked slowly toward it.

Sherlock appeared behind her. "Find it Molly, find what you were not supposed to find."

Molly saw the tattoo on the thigh except that this time the tattoo was not invisible but in blood red ink.

"There is a tattoo on his body."

"What is it?"

Molly shook her head. "I never saw it anything like it before… it's a symbol."

"Molly, if you open your eyes could you draw it for me?"

Molly looked at the tattoo silently for a few minutes, trying to make sure she would remember. She knew she wouldn't be able to go back there, not with the pounding headache. The lucid part of her brain was telling her to stop straining with the concussion she had.

She let the image fade in her mind and opened her eyes. Sherlock was so close their noses were almost touching.

"Do you have it?"

Molly nodded again.

Sherlock smiled brightly, letting go of her face and grabbing a pad and a pen.

"What is it?" He asked as Molly started to sketch.

"Wait, I'm not done."

"No, I mean your mind palace. What is the place that makes you feel safe?"

Molly shook her head and blushed slightly, not looking up from her sketch. "I can't tell you that Sherlock, it's private."

"Very well… It is your mind palace after all."

"Here," said Molly, extending the notepad to him.

Sherlock frowned looking, at the notepad. "Are you sure this is the symbol?"

"Yes why?"

"Because I don't know it."

"Oh right, so you're saying I have to be wrong because there is no way you don't know it?"

"Obviously."

"You're such a cock sometimes, Sherlock Holmes." She said wincing at the now throbbing pain.

Sherlock looked at her, completely taken aback, for what felt like ten minutes, before suddenly bursting into a fit of laughter. "Molly Hooper! I never thought I would see the day when you would sass me."

"Well stick around and you might see more." She grumbled.

Sherlock smiled broadly. "I believe I might enjoy this side of you."

Molly smiled back. She liked it when Sherlock had a good hearted laugh like that, and to be honest she couldn't remember the last time he'd chuckled like that. Had he even laughed like that with her before?

Sherlock ripped out the page and folded it carefully. "You did a great job, Molly Hooper. Now you rest, it's my turn to impress." He leaned in and quickly kissed her forehead. "I shall see you soon." He said quickly, before exiting the room.

Molly looked at the door wide eyed for a long moment after Sherlock left. He had kissed her! It might have been only on the forehead, but it was contact, it was intimacy so UnSherlock like and yet she would do it all over again for the feeling of his lips on her skin.