Based on Fix You by Coldplay but is also a continuation of Demons.

FIX YOU BY COLDPLAY

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you

The world had slipped out of focus. The streets were blurry. Sherlock couldn't have tuned back in if he'd tried.

Christ.

Molly.

His mind kept repeating the moment when he'd left her in Barts morgue. He'd told everything. He'd told her he'd loved her. And then left. Why had he done that?

Why? Why? Why?

He somehow couldn't give the question a logical answer.

Somehow the world had turned dark and the sky was now filled with stars. Pin pricks of light far above. He felt alone. Somewhere in his peripheral vision Sherlock noticed the street lights turn on. He subconsciously began to follow them, winding round the streets. He didn't notice where he had arrived (Molly Molly Molly) until he was 7 inches away from the brass '221B' sign. He was home.

But it felt incomplete. He let himself into his rooms (Molly Molly Molly) and flopped on the sofa still in his coat.

Across the city Molly Hooper sat in her lab, staring at a blank wall. Sherlock Holmes was in love with her. She couldn't get her head round it. Sherlock Holmes was in love with her but didn't want to be with her. He'd left. How could he leave? (Sherlock Sherlock Sherlock)

Her thoughts were interrupted by Doctor Gardener entering the room and grumpily signalling for her to leave.

"Right. Sorry." She whispered. Was it the end of her shift already? How long had she been sat in silence? Hours probably. She got up, wordlessly gathered her bag and left.

She started in the direction of home and then paused. No. She needed to talk about this. She turned around and started to head to Baker Street.

Sherlock had finally mustered the strength to get into his pyjamas and dressing gown. He had, however, returned to his previous position sulking on the sofa.

He'd never felt so raw and human. He was aflame with feeling and emotions so many they spilled out of him and as he raised his hand to his face he realised he was gently crying.

Molly Hooper had fixed him so so many times. And every cruel world he'd dealt her had torn him up again and then she'd fixed him over and over again by continuing to love and believe in him. Walking away that final time hadn't rocked through him like a roller coaster but had ripped him up with every step, like paper scattered to the winds. And his pieces were perhaps lost forever now and here he was, gently broken.

Then, there was a knock. Gentle. Three times. Once and then twice in rapid succession. A little pattern used only by one person. She was here.

And in that moment the world stopped turning and time paused and all that was left was her and the reality that she was here.

The time in which he was the most lost and the one person who could put him back together was here.

She opened the door and slowly entered the room but he kept his eyes shut. His tears continued to fall. She tentatively approached him until she could see his face.

"Oh Sherlock." She knelt down and kissed his forehead. And the world stopped yet again as her lips brushed his skin, all the noise and the chatter was briefly peace.

"You seem so broken Sherlock. Let me fix you." She swallowed. "Please."

And in that moment Sherlock realised what an incredibly selfish man he was as he let her put him back together. But he couldn't bring himself to mind.