Molly woke at four in the morning to her phone ringing. She groggily rubbed at her eyes before looking to see that it was Sherlock.
"Hello?" she mumbled sleepily.
"Molly?" Sherlock's voice cracked. "I need you."
"Sherlock, what's wrong, love?" Molly asked, fully alert.
"I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes it's you in that coffin. I can't lose you, Molly," Sherlock cried.
"Shhh, love, it's okay. I'm here. I'm here," Molly assured him. If she were there, she would card her fingers through his hair and hum a soft melody to lull him to sleep.
"If your flat was rigged with explosives, you would've been two seconds away from—from dying," Sherlock continued. "And that voicemail, Molly, please tell me you changed it."
"I changed it; I did. Sherlock, I'm alive and I'm here and I love you so much," Molly told him sweetly, getting out of bed dressed in her uni t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. She tossed on a light coat and shoes, grabbing her keys. "I'm coming over. Would you like that?"
"Yes," Sherlock answered. "Stay on the phone with me?"
"Of course," Molly replied, locking her door and stepping outside to catch a cab.
She rode to Baker Street and paid the fare before traipsing up the stairs to 221B.
"Sherlock, love, I'm here," Molly informed him before unlocking the door with her key. She stepped into the sitting room, finding him in his chair. She hung up the phone and walked over to him. "Hey you."
"Molly," Sherlock breathed out, a small smile touching his lips. He gently tugged on her waist, inviting her to sit down on his lap and she followed promptly.
"Are you okay?" she asked, caressing his cheek.
"I am now," he replied before kissing her soundly.
"Come on, let's try to get some sleep," Molly suggested, standing up and offering her hand to him. He took it and allowed her to lead him to his bedroom. She laid beside him, her fingers carding through his curls and his arms wrapped around her tight.
"Thank you for coming over," Sherlock whispered as his eyes fluttered with sleep. Molly kissed his forehead as she continued to run her fingers in his hair. He leaned into her touch.
"Anything for you, my love," Molly told him softly, placing another kiss on his lips.
"Mm, love you, Molly," he murmured.
"I love you too, Sherlock."
Author's Note: It is my personal headcanon that Sherlock has nightmares often after the Sherrinford incident and Molly soothes them away. Hence why this trope is usually used in a lot of my stories lol. Thoughts?