When Molly awoke it was morning. At first she couldn't remember where she was and then she heard the bleeping. A bleeping which indicated a heart monitor, and it all came flooding back. Sherlock. Critical. Surgery. John.

As her eyes adjusted more to the light, she looked up to see Sherlock still unconscious. She'd spent the night asleep in the chair by his bed.

As Molly looked at Sherlock, she wondered. How did this brilliant man, the one who was always one step ahead of everyone else, manage to get himself shot in the first place?

She knew he was somewhere he shouldn't have been when it happened, but no-one would tell her where. So therefore he must have been on a case. She knew John found him and called the ambulance - again indicating he was on a case with John.

She knew he'd flat lined shortly after being shot. The doctors had worked on him for 25 minutes with no response so they had called it, but had somehow pulled himself back. How very Sherlock! That indicated very serious injury which was going to require quite some recovery time. And then why did he leave hospital 2 days ago, only 5 days after being shot, whilst still very sick and without being discharged? Why risk his health so freely? Why put his life in danger, only to end up even more sick than he was before.

Molly wracked her brains. And the more she thought, the more she concluded there was only one person he would risk everything for. John. This must all be to do with John. But John was there with her last night. There with Sherlock. But one person wasn't there last night. Mary. So this must be to do with Mary?

Molly was lost in her thoughts when she heard Sherlock stir. He didn't wake but was trying to turn himself over. The grunts he was giving indicated this must be causing him considerable pain. She gently tried to help him, but it was obvious the pain was just too much for him, so he settled back in exactly the same position as previously. Molly re-held his hand. The pulse monitor picked up slightly. Molly smiled and settled down to watch Sherlock sleeping.

The morning was broken by regular visits from various doctors, all of who asked Molly how he'd been during the night, whether he had awoken, had he tried to move. She felt like she was giving the same responses over and over.

"He's a lucky man having a girlfriend like you" said one doctor. Molly went to correct him but stopped herself. Why can't they think she's his girlfriend. It's not like she told them that herself, did she? It's a conclusion he'd jumped to, not her. She smiled.

It was around noon when John popped in to see how Sherlock was.

"Molly, you still here?" asked John.

"Yes, I wanted to be here when he woke up" she said "He's tried to move a couple of times too but it's obviously causing him too much pain. I wanted to help him move if he needs me."

"Look, I'm here now. Why don't you go and grab a shower and something to eat and come back when you're ready. I'll stay with him until you return" said John

"Thank you" said Molly, and she got up to go. "By the way, is everything OK with you and Mary? It's just thought I might have seen her here last night but she wasn't here and.."

"It's fine" John whispered. "Please don't ask any difficult questions at the moment. You'll get to know more when the time is right. But please, the only thing that is important at the moment is Sherlock gets well. We need him, Molly, more than you can ever imagine. I need him back by my side, helping me through."

Molly didn't respond. She just nodded, kissed John on the cheek and headed out of the door. She glanced back to see John sit down next to Sherlock and bury his head in his hands. At that moment, she made a silent vow to herself - to help Sherlock all she could and to be there for John. Whatever had happened was none of her business, but she could help out in some way. That's what friends are for after all.

Molly returned a couple of hours later, having showered, changed her clothes, eaten and feeling much better. John was sitting next to Sherlock, just staring into space.

"I bought you a coffee and a sandwich" she said as she handed over a bag from the local coffee shop. "I thought you'd probably be hungry"

"Thanks Molly" John started but he found it hard to get the words out

"I'm not going to ask" Molly replied. "It's none of my business. What matters is that you know I am here for you, Sherlock... and Mary. I'll do whatever it takes. I know you'd do the same for me"

John's head lowered onto his chest, and he simply nodded to her. Then opened the bag and tried to pretend to be interested in the sandwich she'd bought, but he couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks.

It was one of those awkward moments. Through his tears, John obviously wanted to speak. To pour his heart out to her but he just couldn't. The pain inside was too great. Molly walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him and held him close.

After a couple of minutes John took a deep breath and Molly pulled away. They both settled back down into their chairs, next to Sherlock. John worked his way through his sandwich. He wasn't hungry but he hadn't eaten since last night and he knew he'd only make matters worse if he didn't eat.

It was half way through the second sandwich that Sherlock suddenly stirred. His eyes were slowly opening and he was waking. Molly went to the light switch and turned the lights down slightly, so it wasn't too bright for him.

Molly and John breathed a sigh of relief. Always good to see someone wake, albeit slowly, from such major surgery. John's doctor instincts kicked in, immediately going and checking him, then going and telling the hospital doctors he was awake. Molly stayed put, not wanting to leave him, but the doctors asked for some time with him to check him over and to see how he was doing.

John made his apologies at this point, saying he had to get back to Mary.

It was a good hour later that Molly returned to Sherlock's room, to find him sleeping again. It was getting late in the day and as she hadn't got much sleep the night before, she settled into the chair next to his bed to get some rest.

It must have been some time later when she awoke, to find Sherlock awake and looking at her.

"I've been watching you sleep" he said "You are interesting when you sleep"

Molly blushed

Molly didn't know how to answer "How are you feeling?" she asked him, changing the subject

"Ok, I think" he said "rather sore and I see they've limited by morphine intake."

Molly tilted her head to one side. And then let out a smile. Sherlock was on his way back. Same as always. It would take the body quite some time to recover, but his brain was as alert as ever.

Molly moved over to Sherlock and gently kissed his forehead before holding his hand again. The pulse monitor picked up slightly again.

"I've been so worried" she started. "John's been here with you most of the day too."

"How is John?" Sherlock asked

"Like something is troubling him" She replied "but I've told him its none of my business and we have decided for now that our whole focus is on getting you well. When the time is right or if I need to know, then I'll ask questions."

"Thank you, Molly" Sherlock answered "I knew I could rely on you. I do need your help with all of this, but not just yet. I'm too tired."

And he closed his eyes to sleep again. Molly smiled. Of course she'd help. That's what Molly Hooper is all about.