It could be anything. Anything at all. Anthea didn't pay much mind to the storm going on around her, she didn't want to interfere. All she knew was that she was gripping the chair so tight, digging her nails in underneath the seat on the both sides, that her pain response should have been triggered. Oddly, it wasn't. She felt nothing.

Trying to keep her mind together, she was focusing on fixed point on the wall in front of her as they wheeled Mycroft off, rushing away in the opposite direction. She should have heard the thundering feet of the Sherlock pounding down the hall, but she didn't. She wasn't even sure she could see him… Honestly, she needed to get herself together first, why wouldn't he just go away?

Sherlock wasn't sure what he had expected when he texted Molly to sit with him, but this wasn't it. Maybe, even though she never showed any signs of it, he expected her to stay close… uncomfortably close. He had expected to have to create distance between them physically or ask her, non verbally of course, not to hug him or hold his hand. But, she did none of that.

And he wasn't sure he was happy about that.

Did he, maybe, want her to offer him physical comfort? A proverbial and literal shoulder to cry on?

No, after all, that just wasn't him. He didn't need that did he?

Politely, he set her coffee on the table in front of her, where she sat pretending to read and enjoy a magazine article on safari's.

"Thank you." Molly passed him a sweet smile as she picked up the coffee and took a few big swallows.

"You're welcome." He nodded. "So…uh— safari's?" She held it so tight to her face, he'd practically had to lay his head on her shoulder to see the headline.

"Yes."

"Oh— you… ever been?"

"No."

"Could be fun." Molly passed him a funny look before a knowing expressionswept through and she laid the magazine down.

"Sorry."

"For what?" He asked, knowing full well she was apologizing for trying to brush him off.

"Are you alright? And I don't want you to say you are just to put my mind at ease. I know better." Feeling his breath hitch, he took a swig of coffee before answering.

"I actually am alright I just…" almost silently, he cleared his throat. "didn't want to be alone… with my brother, who just took a bullet for me and …. Anthea."

"Whats wrong with Anthea?"

"Nothing, she just—" Sherlock swirled his coffee in the paper cup a bit. "well, she likes my brother and— my brother isn't,… you know Mycroft."

"It makes you uncomfortable to be around both of them at the same time?"

"Not usually. But, in a situation like this it's not preferable." He sighed. "You know I don't like to do this." Even though she was looking right at him, Sherlock was looking everywhere else but at her. The cup in his hand, the floor, the far wall… everywhere but at Molly.

"I know."

"I'm — scared, Molly. I am human and I care deeply for my older brother, despite our complicated relationship and I don't want to loose him. Specifically, I don't want to loose him and it be my fault."

"Thank you." The tone of her voice finally bought his attention and when he felt her hand wrap around his wrist, he didn't even try to fight it off, he smiled. "You know its alright to feel that way and I'm glad you want me to sit with you while you do."

"Thank you." Although, he was certain they could've had more of a moment, her hand left his wrist and her eyes darted to the hallway.

"Are those noises coming from Mycrofts room, Sherlock?" She asked. He felt his heart sink as he got to his feet and walked to the corridor, with her by his side.