When Molly awoke she woke with a shiver run through her body and a deep pain running through her chest. Memories of the wedding night flooded Molly's brain making the pain in her chest tighten and constrict. Sherlock, Sherlock was there, he was in disguise and they danced, yes they had danced and they had kissed. No, she painfully remembered, they had almost kissed, and it almost broke her in half.

Molly brought her fingers to her lips and gently stroked where only moments ago to her, Sherlock's lips had been. Tears silently flowed through her eyes and streamed down her face pooling in the corner of her mouth. She couldn't help wonder what if? What if she had let Sherlock come to the wedding with her, what if he would have danced with her the whole night and no one else never once daring to look away from her, what if Mary never interrupted them, what if Sherlock kissed her? What if Sherlock loved her instead of the alternative?

Molly shivered again; she reached for the blankets and pulled them up wrapping herself in them. The warmth should bring comfort to her but if anything it did the exact opposite, the usual soft blanket felt itchy and thin. Molly looked down and let out a gasp.

Instead of seeing the floral bed arrangement that were on her bed she had she looked down and saw a thin white blanket with the words ST. BARTS stamped on the side. Quickly Molly snapped her head to the left and eyed the heart rate monitor tracking her heart beat, how had she not heard that before? She took in her surroundings quickly cataloguing everything she saw; pale white walls, heart rate monitor, plastic chair in the corner of the room, flowers and greeting cards on the dresser. She was in a hospital.

Suddenly the room began to spin and Molly was left gasping for air. The pain in her chest came back but this time it felt different, it felt like someone was inside her ribs dragging their nail across the bone making her shiver and squirm in pain. More tears fell from her eyes but these were not tears of sadness, these were tears of pain and there was nothing she could do to stop them. The pain in her chest increased as Molly struggled for breath. Beside her the heart rate monitor's beeps became louder and more frequent telling her that there was something wrong.

"Molly!"

The sound of her name snapped her back to reality and very slowly she turned her head and faced the man who spoke her name. Sherlock stood in the door gripping the frame so tightly that his knuckles had gone ghostly white, the look of fear was written over her face making Molly feel scared for the first time in a long, long time. He stood there for another second before he crossed the room in one swift movement and before she could blink he was beside her sitting on the bed. She would have smiled and blushed if it weren't for the excruciating pain brewing in her chest.

"Molly I need you to focus on me, can you do that?" Sherlock asked. Molly nodded her head quickly. "I'm going to put your breathing tube back in your nose, it fell out in your sleep. Don't move okay, just stay still and it will be over soon I promise."

Molly held onto his words and nodded her head all while watching as Sherlock grabbed the breathing tubes from the side of the bed and gently inserted them back into Molly's nose. The rush of cold oxygen ran down her throat and slowly Molly felt the fire slowly die down and then finally extinguish itself.

"Thank you," she whispered after finally being able to find her voice.

"Are you alright?"

Molly nodded her head and slowly leaned back in the bed. "Yes, thank you Sherlock."

Sherlock watched her with careful eyes for a second, studying her chest as it moved up and down, up and down. He sighed a sigh of relief when Molly's breathing finally evened out, her attack was over.

"What happened to me?"

"You passed out," he answered, his voice flat and emotionless. "Do you remember the wedding?"

Molly nodded her head but didn't say anything, she was afraid if she spoke it would be too painful for her.

"Well you left the reception and passed out in the park, a police officer found you that morning. You're in the hospital, you've been here for three days being treated for pneumonia."

The word pneumonia made Molly open her eyes and stare at Sherlock, surely he couldn't be serious. As if reading her thoughts Sherlock nodded his head. "Yes I know what I said Molly, pneumonia, they x-rayed your chest and took blood. They have you on antibiotics and they've been monitoring you for awhile now but they still need you to stay for another few days just to be sure. When you came you were also suffering from hypothermia, Molly you could have died."

Molly let the words sink into her before she nodded her head finally accepting her fate. She opened her mouth to ask Sherlock a question when a bright patch of red on Sherlock's cheek and lip suddenly caught her attention.

"Are you hurt?" she asked him quietly.

"Don't be ridiculous Molly, why would I be hurt?"

"You've got red on you."

Sherlock brought his hand to his face and stroked his cut gently. "Yeah well turns out John's punch has gotten significantly better than last time he punched me in the face, plus this time he was wearing a ring so-"

"Wait! Did you say John punched you?" Molly asked. "That means that you saw him."

"Wow Molly I wonder how you came to that conclusion," Sherlock rolled his eyes, "yes Molly I saw John, and Mary. Our reunion was…something I won't be forgetting for awhile, but at least he knows the truth now."

Molly giggled despite the pain it brought her. "At least you don't have to hide out in my flat anymore."

Sherlock nodded his head. Looking down at her brought him pain though he didn't quite know why. Part of him was angry at himself for not looking after her and the other part of him felt like this was his entire fault.

While Molly slept earlier and he sat by her bedside he had gone to his mind palace and ran through all the scenarios in his head and he came to the conclusion that he was the reason for Molly's current condition. If only he had stayed with her, he was that confident in his disguise that he could have easily fooled John, but not Molly, never Molly. She would be able to spot him from a million miles away, she was special like that and he was thankful he had her in his life.

He smiled at heartfelt smile at Molly and felt something warm inside him brew as she returned the gesture. He had the strong urge to lie down beside her in her bed to track her uneven breaths, for science of course. He had always been interested in the bacterial infection she was harvesting in her lungs and he could only imagine the joys he would have at studying it closely under the microscope in his flat. But as he continued to stare at her he realized that no, it wasn't just the science he wanted to get closer to, it was he; he wanted to get close to Molly.

"You should rest now, Molly."

Molly nodded her head and eased back into the pillows and after a moment closed her eyes. Sherlock suddenly had the strong desire to lean in and silently run his fingers through her brown hair that he could only imagine would smell like strawberries, he wanted to stroke her delicate cheek, he wanted to hold her and tell her everything was okay and that soon the pain and hurt would be only but a distant memory. He wanted to hold her, to have her close, hell even to have her. He wanted Molly.

Or maybe it was the drugs talking.

Sorry that this chapter was really short but it's an important chapter for future chapters!

Thanks again to everyone who has read this and supported me!

Hope to have another chapter for you soon!

-Lemon