Chapter 9: Revealing

Molly's dreams were torturous, repeating on loop the nightmares of Sherlock and John, dying and crying. She struggled to wake up, but she was caught fast in the snare of sleep, held under by the medications she was sure had been administered to her. The nightmares were becoming so distressing though, that Molly no longer cared about anything other than waking up. Vaguely, distantly, she could feel herself thrashing on her bed and getting tangled in her blankets. She let out a small cry as she was forced to watch a burning Sherlock. Sherlock, with his mouth open and screaming. Sherlock, with trusting eyes that were suddenly wide with horror and pain. Sherlock, burning burning burning. Molly could only watch. She let out a scream of anger, hurt, and fear.

In the next second, she felt herself be forced awake by someone holding her in their arms and pulling her up into a sitting position. They were shouting at her, trying to be heard above her screaming, trying to wake her up.

"Molly, Molly, listen to me! It isn't real! Look! Open your eyes! Molly!" At that, the owner of the voice shook her, gently but firmly. Her eyes flew wide.

Again, she couldn't process what she was seeing. She was in her bed, trapped by the sheets that were acting like a straightjacket on her. Next to her on the bed was Sherlock. He was holding her close, focused completely on her. His face was white, his jaw was clenched, and his eyes were just as wide as hers. There was a crease between his eyebrows and Molly realized that he look scared. She had never seen Sherlock look scared before. This revelation broke the dam that was holding Molly together. She slumped against him, sobbing, no longer caring if he thought she was weak.

"Shh, shh," his vice came from above her, no longer yelling, but not whispering either. They must be alone in the flat.

"Sherlock…Sherlock…I'm so sorry…" The sobs that were erupting out of her were making it hard to speak, but she knew that Sherlock understood. "I…I…"

"It's alright, Molly. I'm here. No one can hurt you now." Oh. He thought she was having nightmares about her attacker. She shook her head at him.

"It wasn't that. It was…you were there and it was dark. I tried to get to you, but the lightning… You….burned and there was nothing I could do…nothing…" She trailed off, aware that Sherlock was looking at her with shock and horror.

"You were having a nightmare about me?"

"About you dying."

He didn't reply, just held her even tighter. Molly hesitated for a moment, then lifted her arms and slipped them around his waist. It felt good to feel him there, safe and with her. She felt herself relax a little more.

Suddenly, she remembered the argument that they had been having before she had fallen unconscious again. She buried her face in his shirt so he wouldn't see her face.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"How could I be?"

They were both silent for a moment before she felt Sherlock inhale in preparation to speak. She braced herself.

"You thought…I was mad at you? Molly, I was upset, sure, but not really mad. I guess…" He trailed off as if seeing for the first time what she had been thinking. "You thought I was mad because John kissed you. Because you thought he was my John."

Molly was starting to get confused. "Well, of course, what other reason is there for you to get so upset?"

"John and I were never a couple."

"You weren't?"

"No."

"Then why…?" Molly was already having trouble thinking properly, this wasn't helping.

"I was jealous that he kissed you." Well that cleared that up. Maybe Sherlock had loved John all along but never told John. And he wasn't happy that John seemed to be getting close to Molly in Sherlock's absence. Molly was more than a little uncomfortable.

"Sherlock…it's none of my business what goes on between you two. I didn't ask him to kiss me." She would much rather not be having this conversation. At least until she was healed.

Sherlock let out a groan of frustration and let go of her. The sudden release surprised Molly and she promptly flopped back down on her pillows. Sherlock was up and walking around, pacing, and muttering to himself.

"Sherlock?"

He stopped pacing and stood over her, his face unreadable. He stared down at her, thinking. Molly was about to speak when he opened his mouth and said the words that would forever change Molly's life.

"I am not jealous of you for kissing John. I am jealous of John for kissing you, Molly Hooper." Suddenly he was leaning over her, his hands cupping her face and a look of such caring on his face that Molly suddenly found that she couldn't breathe. "It isn't easy for me, you know, to reveal my heart to anyone. But I love you. I love you, Molly Hooper."

Author's Note:

Ok, I was asked of to clear up the pairings for this story, and so I shall: This is intentionally Sherlolly. I've got the John stuff mixed in to create some more romantic tension.

Also, sorry my update was so late. I graduate tomorrow and I've been very busy.

Don't forget to review!