#starlight-falls

Thanks for the tag @starlight-falls (ages ago, so very sorry!)

I did this one before but it was so long ago, so here let´s go again! :))

So I decided to add this to my “Love Is Like” series, so I’m tagging @starlight-falls for this as well!

A Sense Of Home -Sherlock returns to Baker Street after being released from the hospital.

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Eventually he was discharged, and it was off to Baker Street with him. Apparently, she and Mrs. Hudson had decided to see if he could even get to his bedroom first, but just in case the downstairs room was ready for him and Molly. Fortunately, he made it up with only a bit of pain and the minute he got into bed he reached for Molly and then went back to sleep. He seemed to be sleeping too much, at least for him, but his doctor had said his body was repairing a heinous injury and it was good to take it easy. But Molly had said if he wanted there were cases at the ready from Greg that didn’t require crime scene visits and things he could focus on if he chose to be bedbound for a while.

This brush with death had caused him to change a few things. First and foremost had been how he was planning on treating his friends. Like Lestrade, for example. He knew full well the man’s name was Gregory, and it was about time he started giving him a measure of respect and calling him that. And John...they had issues that they would need to work on because there were aspects of their friendship that could turn decidedly unhealthy, but he’d make the effort. His friendship with John was important, as was his friendship with Mary.

And Molly...well, he would be the best man he could be for her, he realized as he drifted off, holding her in his arms. She deserved nothing less.

He woke up before she did, his nose nestled in her hair, and he smelled her cherry blossom shampoo as he yawned. It was home. This was home, even if they didn’t stay in Baker Street. Wherever she was, that was home, and he needed to make sure she knew that.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek softly, too tired and too sore to try for a proper kiss because the angling was not in his favour, but she nestled more into him, seemingly even in her sleep to be careful of his abdominal wound. She rolled over and soon her nose was nestled in the crook of his neck and her hair was splayed over the pillow more, and their ankles were hooked together as their legs tangled. He took the opportunity to put an arm around her and pull her close and drift back off to sleep, having contented sleep for the first time since before his sister had made her move.

“Comfy?” she murmured some time later. He blinked and looked down to see she had just pulled away a little, her head now on the pillow, looking up at him with bright eyes and a warm smile.

“For the first time in ages,” he said, tightening his hold on her.

“I was so worried I would hurt you but it just felt so nice to share a bed again.”

“The stitches will dissolve soon and then it’s just muscle pain and even that’s fading,” he said, rubbing her back gently. “Being home and in bed with you is doing a great deal more good than harm.”

“I’m glad,” she said. “Let’s just spend the day in bed, then, alright? No funny business, just cuddling and kissing and sleeping.”

Oooh, you thought I was going to leave “Love Is Like” alone with the angst? I THINK NOT! The next few stories are going to deal with an AU version of “The Final Problem,” with some obvious differences as I have not seen the episode yet and am mostly dealing with a different set-up as well. But please enjoy the angst, @marcceh and @starlight-falls and everyone else!

All His (Her) Fault - When Sherlock returns to Baker Street to see signs of violence, he believes it to be all his fault even though, in reality, it was all his sister’s doing

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He returned home to Baker Street, arms laden with groceries and things for the cats, not expecting what he found. Bullet holes in the door, which had been kicked off its hinges. No sign of Mrs. Hudson or Molly, just four frightened (and thankfully alive) cats. His vision went white until he saw the folded note on the kitchen worktop. Fearing the worse, he opened it with shaky hands, but relaxed when he read his brother’s excellent script.

They’re safe. Molly wants her cats. Come to the fortress.

The littlest ones really shouldn’t travel in such cold weather, but he put a small, thin blanket into the carrier with them and their mother, and Toby in another carrier before putting the tins of cat food and the kitten milk in the pockets of his Belstaff. He was shaking as he signaled for a cab, and warier than he had the care to be usually, and kept an eye on the driver and the other on their surroundings to make sure he went to Mycroft’s home as instructed.

Mycroft was waiting for him on the steps. He must have seen Sherlock enter Baker Street and then gather the cats and get in a cab via the surveillance feed. “How did it happen?” Sherlock growled as he came up the stairs.

“Our sister,” he said quietly. “Your home will be prepared but for the meantime, the three of you are welcome to stay with me until we can sort this out.”

“How do you sort her out, Mycroft?” he asked pointedly. “I know almost nothing about her and yet I know she’s a danger to us all.”

“She wants a present,” he said quietly, looking Sherlock in the eye.

“Me?” he asked, surprised.

Mycroft nodded. “Pay her a visit and she’ll leave the women in your life in peace.”

“Mary…”

“Is fine. After the attack on Baker Street, we sent the Watsons to a different safe house. John is on full alert.” Mycroft reached out to take one of the carriers. “Molly is upstairs. I’ll see to the kittens.”

“Don’t go stealing one of them from us,” Sherlock said, handing him the carrier with Midnight, Smokey and Martha. “I have their supplies.”

“Set them on the foyer table and take Molly’s cat to her.”

“Fine,” Sherlock said. He emptied his pockets onto the foyer table as soon as he got inside, then took the carrier to the guest room he knew Mycroft would give Molly, the one decorated in roses. A sign of life while surrounded by so much death. Death he had brought into their cozy world, or the potential for it, at least. That was how he saw it. It was his sister that did it and it could have been so so much worse.

He set the carrier down and opened the door before bringing it inside. Once the door was shut behind him he let Toby out, and the cat jumped onto the bed next to a sleeping Molly. Sherlock realized he had no idea whether either of the women had been home or if either of them had been hurt…

He sat on the edge of the bed and gently roused Molly awake, though Toby had seemed to be having a headstart on that. Molly stretched and then when she saw Toby she put her arms around him. “Are the others okay?”

“Frightened, but alive. Mycroft has the kittens now. Don’t be surprised if Smokey stays with him after all of this is over. Or Martha. He may not want a goldfish, but I doubt he can resist the cats.” He reached over and smoother her hair back. “Were you at home?”

“No, but Martha was. She took a sedative and was asleep last I heard. I was picked up straight from Barts by Mycroft himself, just before I was to get on the Tube. That’s why I didn’t know about whether the cats were alright.”

“He didn’t think to warn me at all,” Sherlock said darkly. “It was my sister’s doing.”

“She really is dangerous, isn’t she?”

“Her reach extends greatly, it seems.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Get more rest. I need to speak with my brother. My sister wants a visit.”

“She can’t have you,” Molly said, her eyes wide.

“I will take every precaution imaginable,” he said. “I deserved worse for ignoring her all these years, even if I didn’t remember. But you did not deserve any of this. I’ll make sure it stops.”

“You promise you’ll be safe?”

He nodded. “I’ll also try to speak to you before I meet with her, to let you know what we decide to do. You deserve that much, if not more.” He took her hand away from Toby and kissed it gently. “I love you, Molly. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Promise?”

I love the idea of these being Molly and Sherlock out on undercover cases instead of AUs 

So we’re moving away from the hospital stuff, which I hope will please peopls, and gearing up for the ending of the series as this is a proposal fic! I used a sentence starter from @creativereadingfanfiction for this series which I owe the existence of to @starlight-falls . Enjoy!

Half-Hearted But Fully Accepted - Sherlock asks a half-awake Molly to marry him, and is surprised to learn when he himself wakes up later that she remembers accepting.

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The mist hung over the streets, refusing to move. There was nothing bright and cheery outside the hospital window, but Molly had done everything she could to cheer up the inside of the room, and he appreciated it. She was there more than anyone else, sometimes even falling asleep by his bedside, and all he wanted to do was pull her close and sleep next to her. His injuries and all the cording and tubes, however, prevented that.

Currently, she was asleep next to him, her head resting near his arm, and he had shifted so he could stroke her hair back. He’d come close to death before, but never this close, never in all the time he’d been a consulting detective. Even at the worst in Serbia, he had known he would live. When his sister shot him, however, he had been so sure he was going to die with all these regrets.

He loved Molly. Wanted a life with her forever. And it still seemed too soon for marriage but there had to be something he could do. A long engagement, perhaps? Would she be amenable to that? He wanted not only to share his life with her but God forbid, if he actually did die, he wanted it acknowledged in some legal way that they were bound together.

“Mmmm, such a pretty baby,” Molly murmured in her sleep and he smiled. He would like children with her, would like to continue his lineage and hers. He hoped they would take more after their mother in appearance and temperament than him, but still. As long as they were healthy, he would be happy.

“Marry me, Molly,” he said softly.

“Okay, Sherlock,” she said with a yawn before shifting into another position. And with that, he shut his eyes and slept for some time. When he awoke, Molly was gone but his brother was there instead.

“I’d rather have Molly here,” he said as he attempted to stretch as much as he was able.

“She’s off to sleep in a proper bed, which is what your fiancee needs.”

His eyes widened. “She heard me?” he asked, surprised.

“And she agreed. I assume you want out Grandmum’s ring? I know Molly can’t wear jewelry at her post but it’s much in her style.”

Sherlock was quiet for a moment. “I would, I think. She’d appreciate something with history.”

“I think she’ll just appreciate you were alive and able to ask,” Mycroft said. “Eurus is still not talking, but she is showing she feels pain at what she did. I doubt she will be of use to the government any longer, so I will be arranging for her care elsewhere. I just don’t know where. Mummy and Father are not happy with me.”

“I don’t imagine they would be,” he said. “But you did what you needed to do. She has proved she needed to be tucked away, but...perhaps we can be there for her more.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “You want to be in her presence again?”

“She needs us, Mycroft. We’re family.”

He nodded slowly. “Yes, we are. And about to get larger. I think Molly will be a good addition.” He stood then. “I’ll arrange for the ring to be sent to Baker Street since I doubt you would want it stolen before you can give it to her. I will have it hidden in the sock drawer.”

Significant Changes In Store (A “Love Is Like” Story) -Molly feels she has a decision to make about where she wants to live and if she wants to still live with Sherlock if she’s not in Baker Street, but Sherlock has another suggestion.

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Written for @starlight-falls and @strangelock221b

EXCERPT:

She settled onto her bed and tried to ignore the faint smell of damp as she reached for her mobile. She knew the number to the hospital room and dialed it with ease. After a moment, John picked up. “Hello?”

“Could I speak to Sherlock, please? I mean, if he’s not asleep?”

John chuckled. “He’s bored out of his mind and driving the nurses crazy. I think he’ll enjoy talking to his girlfriend for a bit.” In the background, she heard Sherlock tell John to give him the phone. “I’ll pass it over.”

“Thank you,” she said, a smile on her face.

Sherlock spoke almost immediately after that. “Please tell me you are planning to visit.”

“Sherlock, I need rest. The hospital chair just isn’t comfortable.”

“I’ll tell Mycroft to have them send in another bed. Or to let me share a bed with you.”

So I am not a monster (and people asked for it) here is the almost immediate follow-up to “All Apologies,” so @starlight-falls , @strangelock221b and others can see Sherlock is alive and well...ish.

Pulled Through (A “Love Is Like” Story) - Sherlock wakes up in a room surrounded by friends and family, finding out just how close to being truly dead he nearly came.

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"I'm not going this year."

“Oh my lord, he’s waking up.”

“There’s enough morphine in his drip to sedate an elephant!”

“Ex-addict. He’d need a higher dose to make him lapse into unconsciousness to heal.”

“Move, both of you, or I swear--”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t stand there much longer, Mycroft, if you want to keep living.”

“I had been trying to move but your husband is blocking me.”

“MOVE!”

“Yes, Molly.”

Only now were his eyes fluttering open. He’d been dreaming of home, of his family – his whole family, Eurus included – celebrating Christmas, and how he wasn’t going to the family home for New Year’s to spend it abroad with…

“Molly,” he said quietly, feeling the hand in his grip it more strongly.

“Hey,” she said softly, and it looked as though she’d been crying, and quite recently. He remembered the last thing before blackness was his sister and himself arguing over the gun, and then coldness, and then nothing.

“I...was shot?” he asked.

“In the abdomen,” Mary said from somewhere else in the room. “Not quite a kill shot, but it’s clear your sister didn’t mean for it to hit you at all. I mean, there’s a way you can shoot someone in the abdomen with little injury...” She trailed off. “Sorry. Old habit.”

John stood next to Molly and he grinned down. “We nearly lost you a few times, but you’ve got the luck of the devil himself.”

“No, I just...” He tried to take a breath and winced. “Damn.”

“It’s going to hurt to do a lot of things,” Molly said, smoothing his hair back. “But Mycroft’s arranged for me to take time off to nurse you back to health. Both of you.” She moved to the side and saw Mycroft in a wheelchair. “He was damn lucky all he broke was a leg and an arm.”

“She broke them,” Mycroft said offhandedly.

“Eurus...” Sherlock said, trying desperately to stay awake.

“You were pronounced dead at Sherrinford once she got help to you,” Mycroft said quietly. “She’s gone catatonic even though the emergency technicians tried one last time to revive you and succeeded.” He paused. “It helped our sister aimed the gun at them. If she hadn’t, you would not be here.”

Sherlock dipped his head down and back up in as close to a nod as he could manage. “Will she be told...?”

“That you’re alive? Yes,” Mycroft said. “Perhaps that will help but we do not know.”