"But-but….you're dead" Molly stuttered looking at Sherlock. "I saw the footprints and the cliffs. There was no way that….you can't be alive" Sherlock watched in silence as Molly started breathing very quickly. Tears began to fall down Molly's face. "This has to be a dream, it has to be. Any moment now I'm going to wake up." Sherlock took a step forward "Please don't" Molly pleaded. "I'm going to wake up at any moment. If you stay over there, I won't be able to your face as well. If I can't see it, I can't miss it right?" Molly's voice broke. Sherlock's face was twisted into an expression of pain. "Molly, it's me" Sherlock whispered as he slowly made his way forward. Molly watched as he stepped closer until he was right in front of her. "See? It's really me." Sherlock said as he cupped Molly's cheek. Molly's knees felt weak and she let out a sob. She wrapped her arms tightly around Sherlock and sobbed into his shirt. Sherlock, in turn, enveloped her in his arms. "I'm sorry" he whispered against her hair "I'm so very sorry." Molly felt drops of water fall into her hair as she clung to Sherlock.

When Molly's crying had subside she looked up at Sherlock. His face was thin and he was in desperate need of some sleep. And Molly couldn't shake the feeling that his eyes looked incredibly sad. "It's you. It's really you" she said as she hesitantly raised her hand to stroke his cheek. Sherlock leaned into her touch. "How is this possible?"

"It's a long story. I can explain it to you later" Sherlock replied "I suppose Mycroft sent you here."

Molly nodded. "I see" Sherlock said with a small smile.

"What?"

"He said he was going to deliver me my Christmas present late on Christmas Eve."

"I don't understand."

"You're my Christmas present" Sherlock whispered, giving a small smile. "I do believe that my brother was under the impression that I needed someone to be with, and he chose you."

"But why would he send me?"

Sherlock's looked away and Molly could see a pink tinge to his cheeks. "I trust you. Moriarty's men would be after John and Mrs. Hudson because I am known to be closet to them. Lestrade is a part of the justice service, so if he were sent here it would be odd. Moriarty men don't know about you" Sherlock explained, still not looking Molly in the eyes "Besides" he whispered "I asked for Mycroft to send you."

Molly's smile expanded as she looked at Sherlock. She had forgotten how much she missed his face. She had truly had not remembered just how amazing his eyes were. Molly was suddenly very conscious of how close she was to Sherlock. She could feel his breath on her face and it made her blush. "So, how exactly did you survive the fall?" Molly asked.

Sherlock's smile fell. "I knew where a ledge was and I fell onto it. Moriarty did not. I've been hunting down his followers ever since" Sherlock explained. Molly lowered her head and nodded. She looked down to see that Sherlock was barefoot. "What are you doing? You could get sick!" Molly grabbed Sherlock's hands to find that they were ice cold. Sherlock gave a low chuckle at Molly's concern. "I'm fine, really I am." Sherlock said, giving Molly's hands a squeeze. Molly gave it some thought then said "I'm making you some soup" and began to walk towards the kitchen. "I can't let you do that." Sherlock grabbed Molly's hand "I'm fine."

"I don't care. I'm making some anyway." Molly sauntered off to the kitchen. Sherlock had to smile at her stubbornness. "And when I come back in there I want to see you at least wrapped in a blanket." Molly called from the kitchen.

Sherlock sat in the chair closest to the fireplace with the soup in his lap with a wool blanket around his shoulders. He had tried to shrug off the soup but it really made him feel better. And it wasn't only the soup that made him feel better; Molly's presence was giving him a warm feeling too. Molly was sitting at the base of the chair and turned to look at the grandfather clock when it began to toll eleven. "I hadn't realized that it was this late." Molly smiled "I do hope Mr. Thompson is ok."

"He will be home around noon tomorrow. He tends to drink at these parties and because he is with his family they just let him stay there. He'll be just fine." Sherlock let out a yawn.
Molly nodded. "Well, um…I'm quite tired from my trip" Molly yawned back "Do you mind if I go to bed?" Sherlock placed his empty bowl on the chair and guided Molly upstairs. The hardwood floor was partly covered in carpet and the door to Molly's room was a dark color. "Well…goodnight" Molly said awkwardly. "Goodnight." Sherlock said back before he turned away and walked down the hallway to the next door, which Molly decided was his room. Molly smiled at his retreating form and went into her room. The curtain were open so she was able to see her way by the light of the moon. She made it over to the bedside table and turned the small lamp on. It let off a soft yellow glow and illuminated the large room. There was a small clock on the wall and her bed was a four poster with deep blue sheets. There was a wardrobe in the corner and when Molly opened it she found that it contained all of her clothes that had been brought. There were even some dresses that she didn't recognize. She grabbed her nightgown and turned to notice that there was a bookcase near the entrance to the room. She slowly walked over to see that it was filled with books on anatomy and chemistry. But every once in a while there was a book on geography or even a book of fairytales.

She wasn't sure when she fell asleep, but she was awoken by muffled screams. She bolted up, her mind still groggy. It took her awhile before she realized that it must be Sherlock and she ran out into the hallway. Her theory was prove correct when she approached the door and heard the screams coming from within. She quickly opened the door and ran in to see Sherlock writhing in his bed. He was only wearing a pair of trousers and was drenched in sweat. He was obviously having a nightmare. "Sherlock." Molly ran over to him "Sherlock wake up. You're dreaming." He grabbed onto her arms and only loosed his grip when he realized that he was just in a dream sequence. "What's wrong?" Molly whispered, pushing Sherlock's hair off of his forehead.

Sherlock let out a deep sigh "Everyone was…" he choked on his words but soon recovered "Everyone was gone."

"I'm right here." Molly said, running her fingers through his hair.

Sherlock nodded and they both sat there in silence for some time. When Sherlock had relinquished his hold on Molly's arm she turned to leave just to be dragged back. "Please stay." Sherlock pleaded. Molly had never seen him so venerable. He looked like he would break at any moment. Molly slowly nodded and climbed next to him in his bed. She grabbed to sheets and covered them both. Sherlock hesitantly put his arms around Molly's waist. When she didn't flinch or move Sherlock nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck. "Thank you…for everything" he whispered against her skin as they both slowly drifted off to a peaceful sleep.