So my fellow Sherlollians you find me in a state today. It appears that his royal gorgeousness Lord Cumber of Batch is down my neck of the woods filming his Hollow Crown series between now and the 10th Dec.

Do I try to act like the grown up I'm supposed to be and shrug it off or do I go hang out on the barriers like a squeeing fan girl? The downside with the latter would be that I would have less time for writing the upside is I might be able to describe him in real life detail. Oh decisions, decisions!

Back to the story though, as always thank you for your reviews and favourites and follows. I own nothing, not one jot!

Chapter 4

Sherlock had spent a week so far in the drug dens that his homeless network had directed him to. He had befriended a couple of other users and had started to get a feel for who the dealers were, who were vulnerable and who he should stay away from.

So far he'd gone through the motions of drug use rather than actually injecting but he had to admit he was starting to struggle. He remembered only too clearly the feelings the drugs gave him, the bliss and the euphoria, the way they calmed his brain taking him away from the mediocrity of life.

It was after one such night that he found himself in Molly's flat. It was still early morning and he'd sat on the settee with his knees tucked up to his chin, arms wrapped round his legs, almost rocking himself in his efforts to control the craving.

He must have sat there for longer than he'd realised because he heard Molly's alarm going off, heard her pad her way into the minutes later she went through the darkened front room making her way into the kitchen where she flicked on the light and switched on the kettle. Sheobviously wasn't expecting to be observed and just as obviously hadn't seen him observing her.

She was dressed in a short, pale blue, silk and lace night dress. It fell to just below her bum and didn't leave much to the imagination. Her hair was down and tussled as it would be after a night's sleep and Sherlock had never seen her look more beautiful.

As she leant back on the kitchen side waiting for the kettle she suddenly caught sight of him, letting out a short scream of shock.

He stood quickly making his way towards her, 'it's OK Molly, it's just me.'

'God, what are you doing here? And why do you look such a mess?'

Sherlock chuckled at her brutal honesty, 'just part of the case. I didn't feel like going home to an empty flat, I hope you don't mind?'

'No, of course I don't. I haven't seen much of you recently, is everything OK?'

'You know, I'd rather not talk about the case. I'd rather talk about why I have never seen this before.' With that he slid his fingers under the strap of the night dress playing with the lace.

He moved closer to her before picking her up and balancing her on the kitchen counter in front of him.

She opened her legs so he could move closer to her and he bent his head to kiss her.

Her kiss was the next best thing to drug use he decided quickly. He could feel his jagged nerves of a short while ago smoothing out and relaxing. The feel of the silk and her skin under his fingers made his mouth water. He was also very aware that there was next to nothing between her and his burgeoning erection. He pressed himself against her wanting friction.

In the end it was Molly that drew back, her nose scrunching delicately. 'Sorry Sherlock but you stink. I'm really tempted to ask you if you'd like to shower with me but that might move things on a bit quicker than you'd like.'

She smiled shyly at him and he was so tempted to take her up on her offer. Instead he pulled back, 'I should get going, still have work to do, I'll see you soon.' He gave her a quick kiss in her cheek before lowering her back to the floor and leaving.

Molly was left feeling just as confused and frustrated as ever. She really needed to sit him down and find out what 'this' was but a small part of her was afraid that if she pushed him on it he'd back off. It still hurt that he was officially going out with Janine, although John hadn't mentioned anything so she wasn't sure how in the public knowledge it was.

She made her way through to the shower eager for once to get rid of the smell of Sherlock from her skin. What on earth was he up to now, he'd looked like a homeless person?

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

A few days later she got the answer to that question when John dragged him into the lab for a drug test.

Molly was shocked and hurt, she had had no idea that he was using again. She knew his history, of course, three stints in rehab funded by Mycroft until he'd finally emerged clean. She'd witnessed him on drugs a couple of times and it hadn't been a pleasant experience. Lestrade had nearly arrested him the last time and that threat still rang true if Greg ever found him using again.

It was for that reason John had brought him to Molly so they could run the tests in private.

He explained he hadn't used and that it was for a case but she knew the risks he was running even being near drugs and it was fear that made her slap him repeatedly.

She saw his anger flash and heard his cruel retort about her failed engagement and all she wanted to do was apologise and kiss him and ask him just what the hell he thought he was doing but she couldn't. John, Mary and some other tramp were in the room and she knew that whatever 'they' were it was a secret. So she turned away from him before she said or did anything she would regret.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Just over 24 hours later at three or four o'clock in the morning her phone rang repeatedly waking her up. She blearily answered.

'Molly, John...its Sherlock, he's been shot.'

Molly had never woken up so fast in her life. She was already out of bed and searching for clothes as she asked the question she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer to, 'is he...did he...'

'He's alive, just. We're at Bart's, he's in surgery. It's bad Molly, you should get down here.'

'OK, th..thanks for letting me know. I'm on my way.'

She threw the phone on the bed and dressed as fast as she could. Ten minutes later she was in a cab on her way. She suddenly started to shake and couldn't stop. She squeezed her eyes shut, hugging herself.

'Are you alright Miss?' Called the cabbie and she realised she'd been repeating 'please don't die, please don't die...' Over and over again to herself.

'Just...my friend...he's been...badly injured...I'm scared.'

The cabbie was silent for a minute, 'well, he's lucky to have a friend like you who cares about him so much. I hope he pulls through.' He even kindly knocked some money off the bill when they got there.

Molly made her way through the familiar corridors. Normally being in Bart's was a good, happy place for her, her comfort zone, but right now it suddenly seemed like what it was, a place people came to when they were ill, a place they came to to die. She was desperately trying to hold it together.

When she finally found John he enveloped her in a big hug. Mycroft was already there and his PA had brought coffees for them all. Molly took hers gratefully and sat down asking John if there had been any news.

'No, not yet, he's been in about an hour. We almost lost him in the ambulance. God, Molly it was all such a mess.'

'Tell me everything.'

And so he did. He told her about Janine, the proposal, finding the unconscious bodies in the office and then finding Sherlock shot and unconscious. 'I have no idea who did it. Sherlock was facing them so must have known but me...I saw nothing. I never see anything.' He hit his hands on his knees in frustration.

Molly leant over and covered one of his hands with hers, 'hey, you did what was important. You saved his life.'

John just looked despairingly at her, 'I hope I did, Molly. I hope I did.'

It was another hour before the surgeon came in to confirm that Sherlock was indeed alive and should pull through. Molly had to sit by and let Mycroft and then John go in to see him. Once again the secretiveness of her relationship with Sherlock working against her.

When John came out he looked a bit happier, 'he came round momentarily. Would you believe, his first word...Mary! He must be worried about the baby. I mentioned you were here Molly, he said you could go in for a bit if you want.'

Molly nodded and made her way into Sherlock's room. As she went in he turned his head and gave her a small smile.

She leant over kissing him lightly on the lips, holding his face between her small hands. 'God, Sherlock, I was so worried about you.'

As she flicked her eyes across him she took in the bandaging to his chest the morphine drip attached to his arm. His eyes were unfocused, tired.

He tried to speak but she shushed him, 'no, just rest. It's OK, I'll still be here when you wake up.'

Again he tried to speak, his voice a mere whisper. She leant in close, 'you...you saved me Molly...I'm so sorry...for Janine, for everything...I...love you.'

Tears sprang into Molly's eyes, 'I...I love you too Sherlock, now rest.' As he closed his eyes she kissed the back of his hand and watched over him.

Please let me know what you think. Hope you're still enjoying it. And if anyone wants to hang out on some barricades in Winchester just let me know :).