Thanks for reviewing and favoriting this story everyone. And thanks to my beta for all the love and support. Hope you enjoy this chapter. It's mainly just a short little filler but it has some fluff which I think everyone could use a little of! I don't know about you all but it's been a very long week and I was craving simple, sweet Sherlolly. it seems to make everything better don't you think?
Ducks in a Row
Forty weeks old
For the most part Sherlock thinks of Molly as a sound sleeper. She doesn't stir much, only when she rolls over or snuggles closer to him for the warmth his body gives. He still doesn't sleep as much as he should; spends the nights he stays awake watching her and the serene look on her face as her chest rises and falls or sneaks to the nursery and does the same with Annabelle.
There's one night in particular that never seems to leave his mind. He had, for the most part, managed to fall asleep soon after Molly does, her body pressed against his as she softly snored. He figures he sleeps for about two hours before he hears the yelling and the whimpering. His first instinct is that it's coming from the baby monitor but when he opens his eyes he sees Molly tossing and turning beside him, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. She was still asleep.
Sherlock sits up quickly and puts a hand on Molly's arm but it doesn't seem to faze her so he shakes her slightly, the knot in his stomach tightening when she doesn't wake up and lets out another yelp. He grabs both her shoulders this time and calls her name, watching as her eyes shoot open and she gasps, collapsing in his arms and sobbing into his night shirt. He's completely taken aback.
"Shh, love it's alright. Look at me, you're alright." He chants the words over and over as he rubs circles on her back. Her sobs eventually fade until all he hears is an occasional whimper or sniffle. She keeps her head buried in his chest as if she's ashamed, and it's not until he gently pulls back that he looks into her eyes and sees something that looks like fear and heartbreak all mixed together.
"I'm sorry," she mumbles as she wipes at her eyes, "I had a dream, nothing to worry about." She tries hard to play it off but to Sherlock she is practically transparent. He wipes a stray tear away with his thumb, stroking her cheek.
"What was it about? Obviously something that scared you." Molly stares down at her hands in her lap, picks at her fingernail and avoids his wondering gaze. But his eyes seem to burn into her and she looks up, waving the white flag and sighing heavily and she snuggles into the save haven of his body.
"It was about you." Is all she says. Sherlock stops, his fingers tangled in her hair as he looks down at her. He gnaws at his bottom lip, doesn't know what to think. Molly breaks the silent barrier he's created around them, can't stand the lack of noise when her mind is still reeling from the reality of her dream.
"I've had the dream before; a few times when you were gone. Do you remember when you came over with that horrible stab wound and you nearly bled out on my couch?" he nods deafly because of course he remembers, he nearly died. And he expected her to fix it.
"After that I started having these nightmares about you dying and I couldn't save you. I can hear your voice but I can never find you, all I can hear is you calling for me." She shakes her head as her voice cracks slightly, drops to a whisper. "I know it's not real but the voices are so loud and I can't stop them. They just come out of nowhere; this is the first I've had in a while."
Sherlock squeezes his eyes shut and holds Molly close, trying to get a grip on his emotions as guilt wells up inside of him at an alarming rate. He had never thanked her after that and he had been so wrapped up in saving John and Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson that he hadn't even thought of the impact the entire year had on her.
He bites back a sigh and kisses the top of Molly's head, tells her he'll be right back before he slips out of bed and disappears down the hallway. She tries to protest but her body is exhausted and her eyes are swollen and sore from crying. She snuggles back in the covers just as Sherlock reappears in the doorway, carrying Annabelle who blinks sleepily.
"You're a lot calmer when you're holding her," he explains when she raises an eyebrow. He gets back into bed and lets Molly take the baby from his arms, bringing her close and kissing her head. She still smells like baby powder and soap, innocent and all hers. She snuggles against her mother and her little eyes fight hard to stay open.
She looks at Sherlock again, smiles up at him and lies against his chest. His heart beats loud and steady beneath her and lets her know he's alright. It brings some comfort to her to have her family around her. In some ways she figures Sherlock has saved her as many times as she's saved him even if he isn't aware of it.
He drags her away from his thoughts when he whispers her name, so soft she can barely hear him. She reaches up and brushes his hair back, wants to feel him beneath her fingertips. He's warm and so very alive.
"I just want you to know Molly I'm never leaving again. You're never going to see me like that ever, I promise alright?" his voice is a low rumble she can feel vibrating his chest, his eyes locked onto hers and waiting for her response. She smiles, one corner of her mouth tipping up slightly. She wants to say something but all the words have left her mind and all she can see is him.
So she kisses him, soft and sweet and with everything she's got.
It's all the answer he needs.