"Molly! Molly the case! It was the chef! He killed the-" Sherlock opened the door to his flat to find a very emotional Molly Hooper lying on the couch with her head stuffed into a pillow. Sherlock just stood there for a few moments. Comforting people was not one of his strong points. He always managed to screw things up. Sometimes he actually had every intention of cheering people up, but it just came off rude and annoying.
So Sherlock decided not to say anything at all. He simply lifted Molly's small body and positioned himself so that his back was on the arm of the couch and Molly's back was on his stomach. Molly grabbed Sherlock's fingers and laced them with her own. Sherlock brought her hand up to his face and made a trail of small kisses from Molly's knuckles to her wrist.
"What's wrong love?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
But Sherlock wanted to know. He leaned down and started a new trail of kisses down her neck.
"Sherlock." Molly moaned as if she wanted him to stop, but they both knew that she really didn't.
"Molly please tell me." Sherlock mumbled into Molly's neck. Molly sighed. Knowing that she was going to tell him, he gave her neck one last kiss and sat back to listen.
"When will this be over? You and Moriarty?"
Sherlock rubbed his thumb in small circles around Molly's hand.
"Soon. We've been tracking him. Molly, I promise I will stop him. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. He can't touch you. I promise."
Molly smiled. All the crying she had done made her sleepy.
"Sherlock?" Molly yawned.
"Yes?"
"Be careful."
Sherlock kissed the top of Molly's head. "I will love."
