Molly stood in the doorway, staring at the letter. She couldn't believe it. He loved her?

The pathologist then broke out into a wide smile. Sherlock Holmes was in love with her! She didn't think that anything could be more amazing than that.

She knew that it was going to be a bumpy road for both of them. Sherlock wasn't, to put it lightly, the most sympathetic of people. But she knew that he would try with all he had to make her happy. And she would be patient with him. He was married to his work, she knew, and she would try to understand when he couldn't spend much time with her.

She went and sat down on the couch, content with everything. Usually after work she would read the sappy romance books that she had next to her bed, but tonight was different. Tonight she knew that she was loved, and that she loved him back. This was better than any other love story that she had ever heard.

A knock came at the door. When she opened it, she found a beaten and bloody Sherlock Holmes standing there, looking like he hadn't eaten in weeks and hadn't slept for longer than that.

She gasped. "Sherlock!" she put an arm around his waist and helped him inside. She laid him down on the couch and went and found a first aid kit.

When she got back, she looked at him to see the damage. His face was covered in blood, his hair matted with it all. The white shirt he was wearing was soaked red, as well as his trousers. Dark circles were under his eyes from lack of sleep. He was skinny, too skinny.

Molly sat down on the bed next to him and started to clean his face. She tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill by how bad he looked. Her hands started to move to unbutton his shirt to clean the wound, but he stopped her.

She looked into his eyes, wondering. He just shook his head. "You don't want to see it."

She smiled at him. "Sherlock, it has to be cleaned or it's going to get infected. I have to." She started to unbutton his shirt. "I work with dead people everyday. Do you think that blood really bothers me?"

He didn't respond, and she thought he had gone to sleep. She cleaned the wounds quickly and put away the first aid kit.

She was about to leave the room when Sherlock spoke.

"Stay," he said.

Molly just nodded and climbed into bed with him. Sherlock wrapped his arms around her.

"My Molly," was the last thing she heard before she fell asleep.