When I woke up after having passed out in the ambulance, I was wrapped head to toe in bandages and in a room that definitely wasn't at a hospital. At my side, Sherlock was sleeping in a chair next to my bed, but he jolted awake when the bed creaked with my efforts to sit up.
"Molly, you're awake. Lie back. You need to-"
"I need to thank you, Sherlock. You saved my life. If you hadn't come when you did, he- he would have killed me. He was going to get his gun to shoot me when you arrived."
"Of course you don't need to thank me Molly. I didn't stop searching for you since that call from the cab. I promised I would come for you."
"I told you not to though. I'm so grateful you did, but I don't understand. You're Sherlock Holmes. The world's only Consulting Detective. You could have died trying to save me. You shouldn't have done that. If anything had happened to you I would never forgive myself." I murmured, unable to hold in my thoughts.
"Molly." He said calmly, although his voice shook a little.
"Molly, do you think that I could have lived with myself, had I let Moriarty just take you away like that? If I had left you to die at his hand? I had to at least try to save you Molly."
"But why? Why would you risk your life for someone like me? For John, or Lestrade I could understand, but I'm nothing. Mousy Molly, the conveniently manipulable pathologist. What I said to Moriarty was true, I know, so what made you come for me?" I asked, my voice quivering.
"Molly, I came for you because everything you told Moriarty was the opposite of the truth. You have no idea how much you mean to me Molly. You see me, where no one else does. You're so kind and generous and selfless, and you count so much more than you know. And the fact that you could possibly think so little of yourself that you would let that bastard take you away from me with no thought for your own safety kills me. Molly. Your only thought when a murderous criminal stood over you while you were completely helpless was for the safety of your friends, and you are completely unaware of how I feel about you, but even then you told me to let you stay at the mercy of Moriarty because you wanted me safe. I love you, Molly Hooper. I hate that it took me this long, and you that much hurt before I worked it out, but I do. I adore you, in all your selfless beauty. That's why I came for you. Why I will always keep you safe, from today until the day I die. That's why I risked my life for you. Because I don't think I would have a life without you anymore. I love you, Molly. Molly? Why are you crying? Are you in pain? I'll get John, he can-"
With tears streaming down my face, I cut off the detective with one bandaged hand snagging the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet mine. After a moment, Sherlock's hands came up to cup my face, and he responded, deepening the kiss and moaning when I tangled my other hand in his hair, ignoring the spikes of pain from every little movement. Sadly, Sherlock didn't choose to ignore my gasp of pain when my broken wrist flared, and reluctantly he pulled away, his pupils blown wide.
He leaned over me, kissing my eyelids and the streams of salty tears on my cheeks, chuckling quietly when I captured his lips in another kiss when he came close enough. He pulled away and took my hand gently in his, kissing my knuckles. The exertion of making out with Sherlock caught up with me, and I began to drift back off to sleep, listening to Sherlock humming a quiet melody as I closed my eyes.