A/N: Hiya guys, nice to be back. I have just finished 3 days of back to back exams from 9:00AM until 3:40PM since Wednesday. As always thank you ever so much for the follows, favourites and reviews. Sadly I still don't own anything it all belongs to Stephan Moffat, Mark Gatiss, the BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. As I am indeed English(if you haven't guessed by my funny spellings and names for things) so I have just received the news that Sherlock returns 01/01/2014 by a weird yet lovely hello from Mark Gatiss in the form of a hearse and some naked man covered in blood, wrapped in a sheet. Sorry for rambling.

I hope you enjoy.

Geronimo

SM

Chapter 8:

"Hello Molly." Sherlock murmured, turning towards the door; smoothly sliding the key into the lock and swiftly entering my small untidy apartment. I followed Sherlock in, going straight to the kitchenette I put the kettle on and whilst waiting for it to boil I rifled around my cupboards to see what I had that was ready in minutes and still in date. I felt his presence behind me,

"Six months." I said, my head still stuck in the tinned food cupboard.

"Pardon?" He mumbled quizzically.

"Six months." I announced, pulling my head out of the cupboard and pivoted so I could see his face. "Nothing. I thought you were dead. Six months. SIX MONTHS. I heard nothing from you, not a single text and I didn't get kidnapped by Mycroft in some Jaguar to inform me that you weren't going to be the next man on MY slab and actually BE dead this time!" I cried, tasting the salty tears on my lips. Sherlock looked hurt; I suddenly felt like I'd killed a part of him. "S...S...Sherlock, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that. It's just my brother, Darren, the one you threatened, died and I did the autopsy without even knowing it was him. I'm so sorry Sherlock. Forgive me." I mumbled, raising my hand up to his angular zygoma and caressing it.

He placed one of his hands over mine, his calloused fingers were cold against my hand,

"Molly..." He started, his voice was hoarse and broken, "I'm sorry," I started choking. Sherlock was apologising and I didn't know whether to believe him or not. "Molly, I am truly sorry; I had no idea that what I was doing would effect you. I didn't want my carelessness to harm you in any way. You are special Doctor Hooper, never forget that." He finished, his once bright blue eyes were dull and his grip on my hand loosened as he pulled away and headed for the door.

"Sherlock, please wait, don't go. Sherlock!" I shouted, thankful that my two neighbours were deaf.

The front door slammed shut. I ran out of the apartment and down the winding sets of stairs to find him. I was battling on, down the stairs trying to reach the bottom in time. Suddenly I tripped falling down two flights. I heard the crack of bones and felt a snap in my arm. I cried out in pain and hoped that he had heard me. "Sherlock. I love you; please come back." I whispered, clinging on to some hope that he was still there and would come back to me.

I began to feel woozy and after a few moments I collapsed in a heap on the floor. Alone. In the background I could hear footsteps and feel a pair of strong arms pick me up and begin to carry me up the stairs. I tried to open my eyes, but all I saw was a haze, nothing in focus or coherent.

"Molly! Wake up. Please." A baritone voice begged, the owner of the voice was shaking me vigorously.

"Sentiment dear brother. Look and all you will see is weakness." A cold harsh voice replied,

"Liar." Sherlock bellowed, "Look at her and all you WILL see is strength. After everything she has done for you and me; you still treat her like dirt. Why? Is it because you have never felt sentiment? Or is it because you have never received sentiment, from another human?" He was angry now, this sounded like what John told me about when Mycroft told Mrs Hudson to 'Shut up.'

"You are like The Woman, you have fallen and you WILL suffer." Mycroft retorted,

"You. Are. Wrong." Sherlock said angrily, "I am nothing like her. She was weak; I won't fall like she did."

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you won't." Mycroft tested, his voice like a razor blade. He paused; I unconsciously stopped breathing for the silence. "I thought so." He said after a moment of silence had passed.

I exhaled; gasping for air I tried to sit up.

"Molly." Sherlock murmured thankfully, wrapping an arm around my waist and helping me up.

"Miss Hooper," Mycroft said curtly, his signature umbrella in the pot by the door.

"It's Doctor Hooper," Sherlock growled, "Are you alright Molly? Any dizziness, nausea, headaches, blurred vision..." Sherlock said, listing the symptoms of concussion...

"I'm fine Sherlock, It was the pain from my arm that made me pass ou..." I tried to finish my sentence but Sherlock's plush lips were pressing against mine insistently. Mycroft cleared his throat and we both turned to face him. Having Sherlock here made me feel empowered and so I decided to seize the moment. "Get out Mycroft." I insisted, my voice as cold as his was a moment ago,

"I'm Sorry?" He queried, a smug look on his face.

"I said 'Get Out, Mycroft'. I believe I incorrectly assumed you spoke the same language and so just in case you need explaining further; LEAVE NOW." I replied sweetly, looking straight at him.

"You will regret this Miss Hooper. Did you know he ki..."

"Killed my brother? Yes, I'm not an idiot, Mycroft. I know everything and I will love him no matter what." I said, stumbling to my feet with the help of Sherlock.

I walked to the door; picked up his umbrella, placed it underneath one foot and snapped it in half. "Good day Mycroft." I announced, swinging open the door; throwing his broken umbrella through and gesturing for him to leave. Thankfully this time he took the hint and strode out, not uttering a word upon his exit. I slammed the door behind him, smiling to myself that I was no longer the mousey pathologist.

I took a deep breath and smiled, cradling my broken arm I walked over to Sherlock and embraced him, relishing the feel of his strong arms around me, protecting me.

"Come on, let's get you to a hospital and all bandaged up." He muttered into my ear, hugging me tighter and then releasing me.

"Come on Molly."

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. :-)