Thanks for all the reviews and follows and favorites! I really appreciate it. Keep doing it.
The cab pulled up to Baker Street. Molly quickly paid the cabbie and ran to the door. She knocked with her burnt hand and she screamed in pain. John had seen her come out of the cab through the window and was down in a flash. When John got to Molly she was crying, crumpled on the steps. He poked his head in the door and yelled for Sherlock. Sherlock came running to find Molly Hooper crying on his doorstep. A sight he never would have guessed to see. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her inside. She was so small and frail in his long arms. She continued to weep up the stairs and onto Sherlock's couch.
She was nestled in close to his chest and his heart was beating erraticly. She seemed to have noticed, though she didn't stop her tears, she placed one tiny little hand against his heart and looked up into his eyes.
"Sherlock?" She whispere through silent tears, "I was finally home from the hospital and I was making tea and I burnt my hand and mum was taking care of it and..."
"Molly. Slow down we need you to breath more than we need to hear the story." John said walking into the kitchen to make Molly a cuppa.
"Sherlock." She took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, "I knew something was wrong with my flat. I saw that my books were all messed with so i picked one off the shelf. A word was highlited. I figured... well I don't know... i guessed that maybe it was a message or something. So i pulled down all the books that were out of place and wrote down all the highlited words. And it... and it had a message."
Sherlocks breathing stopped for he knew what she was going to say.
"It said Don't forget I can still burn the heart out of you." She had memorized it as soon as she had written it down. When Sherlock had asked for her help with faking his death Sherlock had explained why he had to do it. He had used those exact words. Moriarty was going to burn the heart out of Sherlock, one little spark at a time. She was frightened. She began to shiver and Sherlock absent mindly pulled her closer. He rested his chin on top of her head.
John came in with the cup of tea and nearly dropped it at the sight. Sherlock was showing sentiment. John backed up and returned to the kitchen to wait out the moment.
Molly fell asleep to the rythem of Sherlock's breathing. Sherlock not soon later fell asleep. He was oddly at ease with the little mousy Molly Hooper asleep on his chest.