They suddenly became aware of a muffled noise coming from the bedroom. Molly and John ran as fast as they could to find Sherlock trying to turn over in his sleep but he just couldn't. They gently helped him over. Molly sat on the bed next to him gently rubbing her fingers through his hair until he was fully settled. She lent over to give him a kiss on the forehead. John watched her with Sherlock and smiled.

Once they were sure he was settled again, the returned back to the living room.

John looked over at Molly "Tell me about it"

"About what?"

"You and Sherlock. Is it serious?"

Molly blushed slightly. "I don't really know yet. It's early days. What I do know is that there's something there between us which wasn't there before. He seems so much more gentle. So much more open to me than I've ever known him to be. I'm wary that of course it might just be the side effect of the drugs he's on, so I want to know they're totally out of his system first but I'm cautiously optimistic! We've had some wonderfully tender moments just the two of us, and it feels so right when we're holding each other. I guess we've just got to take it slowly."

"I'm pleased for you both, I really am. It's so weird seeing you both together. Catching you in his arms earlier was lovely to see, but really weird. He just looks so content. Well, you both do."

John looked downwards after he'd spoken and took a very long, very large drink of his wine, draining his glass. He refilled it straight away.

"What's happening with you and Mary, John?"

"Nothing at the moment, to be honest. You know the story. You know what she's done. I can't pull myself to be in the same room as her at present, we sleep in separate beds. We will sit down and talk about it soon. I love her too much to let this just all go. But for now I have to focus on Sherlock. It's her that put him in this position. It's her that hurt him so badly. I understand that she did what she had to do. Sherlock keeps telling me that he'd have done the same had he been her. That's all very well but I need to understand why. Why she did what she did in her past. Why she shot my best friend and almost killed him. There's alot of questions to be answered but I need Sherlock to be a part of much of the conversation to help me to contextualise it and to understand it. So until he's well Mary and I are not on speaking terms. We're married and we're together. We're just not a couple if that makes any sense? My focus is on him until such time as he's ready to help me."

"And I'm here for you if you need me"

"Thank you Molly. It means more than you know"

Molly and John spoke long into the night. The subject got round to some of the cases Sherlock and John had solved, some of the stranger autopsy's Molly had performed, and Lestrade and the work he was doing to find the person who shot Sherlock. In some ways Molly and John found it quite funny that they knew exactly what had happened that night but they just couldn't tell Lestrade. They laughed about the ideas Lestrade had for the identity of the shooter. None of them remotely anywhere near the truth.

It was well past one o'clock in the morning when, with both bottles of wine empty, they popped their head in to check on Sherlock. He was peaceful and settled. John wished Molly good night, and headed up to his old room. Molly settled herself down on the sofa. She knew she would struggle to get to sleep in the strange surroundings of the flat, with all the noise outside. She picked up the book she'd brought with her and had read a few pages when she heard the same noise coming from Sherlock's room. She got straight up and went to see him.

Sherlock was awake and trying to get himself off the bed to go to the bathroom. He had managed to get his legs onto the floor and was sitting up, but was finding himself in considerable pain lifting himself onto his feet to walk. Molly was quick to help him and he used her to lean on as they both walked into the bathroom.

She helped him to the toilet, smiling to herself that the Sherlock she knew just 5 or 6 weeks ago would never have let her help. But his injuries and pain meant that at the moment he really didn't care.

Once they were done in the bathroom, Molly helped Sherlock to settle down into bed. She stood up from the bed and went to leave. Sherlock's hand reached up and grabbed her wrist.

"Don't go"

"I have to go back to bed. It's nearly 2am and I'm tired."

"Stay with me. Please?"

"What, in your bed"

"Yes"

"But what if I hurt you. You've been in quite a bit of pain."

"You won't. I just need to know you're close"

Molly smiled to herself and walked around the other side of the bed. She carefully pulled back the sheets and climbed in next to Sherlock.

He was lying on his back and she lay next to him, making sure she didn't touch him. But before she realised, a hand had reached over and was gently pulling her closer to him. She duly obliged and snuggled in closer. He put his arm underneath her, so that her head was resting on his shoulder and her lips were touching his cheek.

Sherlock gently turned his head towards Molly and smiled at her. Their kiss was soft and tender. Delicate and loving. Erotic and sensuous. Molly could feel the heat rising as their slow kiss deepened and prolonged.

When they did pull away from each other, Molly felt quite breathless. She let out a gentle sigh and looked deeply into Sherlock's eyes.

"I want you, Molly Hooper"

"And I want you too, Sherlock"