"What the fuck are birds so excited about at five am?" a familiar voice pulled Molly out of her sleep. She rolled over as the opposite side of the bed was being vacated. "Shut up!" Sherlock shouted out the window suddenly, making her jump.

"Hey you'll wake the neighbors!" Molly whispered, flopping on her back.

"They're already awake because of all the bloody birds!" Sherlock said back at full volume. His breathing was loud and labored as he paced the window line.

"Sherlock!" Molly hissed. She had not extended an invitation to her flat while Baker Street was being repaired for him to make her the most hated tennant in the building. "Stop that!"

With a huff he turned away from the windows and crawled back into the bed. Molly could not believe that she was babysitting this full grown five year old, gasping at the end of his temper tantrum. Just as she was trying to roll over she felt his now cold fingers grabbing at her sides pulling her towards him while rolling her over to face him.

"What in the hell are you doing?" she demanded. Sherlock planted his head between her breasts and let out a few shaky breaths.

"The noise is too much, I need something to focus on," he mumbled.

"And my breasts are something to focus on?" she scoffed trying to wiggle her way out of his grasp.

"No, your heartbeat.," Sherlock confessed, "I need to hear it." Molly stilled as his voice dropped. "I could hear your breathing before, but I can't over the birds… I need to hear it, to make sure you're actually here."

"I am. Promise," she said as she snaked her arms to cradle his head, covering his free ear. They laid there as his breathing slowed, returning to a normal pace. Sherlock hadn't told Molly much about what had happened at Sherrinford and she normally wasn't one to pry but his tantrums were growing more frequent in the past few weeks.

If she went to the store he would follow her. When she left for work he would go with her. If her yoga class ran over he would call her in a panic. She found him one morning sleeping on the other side of the door when she got out of the shower. Every morning she would wake up to his beautiful mess of dark curls on the pillow next to hers and his warm fingers wrapping around her waist.

"Sherlock…" Molly murmured. He looked up at her with his once cold and unemotional eyes, now filled with fear and tears. "Tell me what's going on. What did Euros do to you?"

He shuttered at her name and Molly pulled him closer.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me what you need," Molly felt tears in her own eyes, "you can't just use me like this."

"Euros… S-she had a coffin for you. She knew that you are all I have, all I truly care for. Molly she deducted what I would have put on your coffin lid, and it was correct. I needed to... to see you, hear you, touch you- anything that would have promised me that you were really alive but I didn't have that. I went mad," he whispered. "I tore it apart because I couldn't get to you and the closest thing to you was that coffin. I couldn't stand it. Smashed it to bits."

"I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere." Molly ran her fingers through his hair, trying to lull him back to sleep.

"I love you," he croaked.

"I love you too," she replied.