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She was discharged from the hospital two days later. It would have been longer but she wanted to be home, and the doctor in charge of her care said perhaps that was all right, so long as she took care of herself. She had never minded hospitals, considering she worked in one, but being a patient made the place seem different. Sherlock had barely left the hospital in the last two days, and the hospital staff had taken pity on him and kept her the single occupant of the room so he could have the other bed. Or it might not have been pity; he had said something about how he thought his brother was involved in all of this so that was why he was getting special privileges. She didn’t know. All she knew was the sooner she was home the better.
Home. 221B Baker Street was home now. She hadn’t expected that, even after they began to date. She had thought when it was all over she would go back to her own flat and that would be that. When they had started to actually date she had thought it might be a possibility, but that would be up to Sherlock. It had been his home first, after all. When he asked her to stay when she woke up the night it all happened, she had been so happy she could burst. She didn’t want to leave him. She didn’t want to not be close. Six months of living under the same roof had done something to their relationship and neither wanted it to change, and she had been grateful for that.
She gingerly touched the bandage on her throat as the cab pulled up. She was resting her head on his shoulder, even though it pulled on the stitches slightly. She had taken the bandage off at the hospital to see how bad the scar was going to be. It was long, about eight centimeters, and she was honestly surprised there had not been more damage, that he hadn’t hit the carotid artery. She had been closer to dying than she wanted to think about. When the cab came to a complete stop she lifted her head up and gave Sherlock a small smile. He got out first and waited for her, then grasped her hand as they made their way to the door. He had been staying close to her, and since she wasn’t feeling suffocated she could acknowledge it helped.
She was the one who opened the door; she’d had her own key since day one, and it felt good to let herself into her home. She took a step inside after grasping his hand again and felt her gut churn slightly all of a sudden. She wasn’t sure she could go into the kitchen right now, or even walk past it. “I’m glad to be home, but I don’t know if I’m ready,” she said quietly.
“We don’t have to stay here,” he replied. “You still have things at your flat, correct?” She nodded. “Then we can stay there as long as you need to.”
“We’ll need food. I only have things in the pantry,” she said, squeezing his hand.
“We can go get them.” With that they turned around and he hailed them another cab. He had never been to her home, even when they had been friends. She hadn’t been there in at least a month, just to discreetly pick up a few things that she needed. As far as everyone was supposed to know she hadn’t kept her place. But her neighbor had been tending her plants for her and making sure no one took anything, and that had been enough to keep her mind at ease. They stopped for the groceries first, and she found she was actually more nervous to bring him to her home than she was to go back to where she had been staying. She let them in and watched him for a moment to see his reaction. “It is very different than my home,” he said quietly.
“Yes, it is,” she replied with a nod. She set her purse on the table by her door. Her place was smaller, but she liked it there. There was a lot of natural light due to front facing windows, and she had plants all around. Normally she had a cat, but her cat had run off when her neighbor came in to water the plants for the first time and Molly had given up on finding him again. “It feels very strange to be back.”
“I can imagine,” he said, setting the bags in her kitchen. “Are you comfortable here?”
“Not as comfortable as I was at your home,” she said with a slightly sad smile. “That feels like my home, more than this place does.”
He nodded. “I just want you to be comfortable.”
“I’ll be comfortable if you’re here,” she said, her smile widening slightly. She went into the kitchen and moved in front of him. He put his hands on her waist and she leaned up to kiss him softly. He kissed her back before she pulled away. “I told you I’d get my kiss when I was discharged.”
“I could give you a better kiss than that,” he said with an amused smile on his face.
“That was good enough for now.” She moved over to the bags. “Let’s put this away. I’ll make supper.”
“All right.” They worked together to put the groceries away, Sherlock occasionally asking where things should go. When they were done he moved to the stools at her counter and she began to pull things out again. She moved over to her knives, but the moment she picked one up her hand started to shake. Sherlock got up off the stool and came over, taking the knife out of her hands. “Let me,” he said.
She nodded and moved out of the way as he began to cut the vegetables. “I think it’s going to be a long time until I can hold a knife again. Or even a scalpel.”
“You are allowed time off of your job, correct?” he asked.
“Yes. I can take a few weeks. Mostly because of this exact reason. They want me to be in therapy for a bit, just so I can cope.”
“Perhaps that wouldn't be a bad thing.”
“I hope so.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I hate this. I hate all of this.” He looked up, looking slightly surprised, and her eyes went wide. “Not us! I mean…not feeling safe, not wanting to go home. Oh, God, I’m absolutely thrilled with us.”
“I had hoped so,” he replied, going back to the food. “I admit that the uncertainty I felt through the beginning of our relationship has ebbed considerably.”
“You weren’t sure about us?”
“I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t screw things up to the point we couldn’t fix it,” he said quietly. “I was worried you would leave and hate me.”
“Sherlock,” she said gently, putting a hand on his arm. He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. “The only thing you could ever do that would ruin this relationship is to cheat on me or lie to me about something important. I know this is new to you. I’m patient and I’m willing to work through a lot. So you don’t have to worry.”
“When you told me you loved me, that was when I stopped worrying,” he said, setting down the knife. “Other than thinking I might lose you that evening. I worried about that until the bleeding stopped.”
“That’s going to haunt you for a while, isn’t it?” she asked quietly.
“Yes. Even though I didn't approve of the ruse at the start, I let it continue. I put you in harm’s way.”
“You did not do that,” she said, moving him slightly so he was facing her. “I’m a grown woman. I knew the risks. I knew something like this could have happened.”
“I could have shot him before he cut you. I could have stopped him from hurting you.”
“Not without the chance of hitting me. If you had hurt me you’d never have forgiven yourself and we both know that.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest. “You did the best thing you could do, Sherlock. Remember that, okay?”
“I just wish you hadn't been hurt,” he murmured as he held her close.
“I wish I hadn’t been either, but we can’t help that.” They stayed like that for a little while before she pulled away. “Come with me.”
“Why?” he asked, looking at her.
“I want to go lay down, and I don’t want to lie down alone,” she said as she reached for his hand. “After that first night you slept in another bed and I had a horrible time sleeping. The food will keep as soon as I put the meat in the refrigerator.”
“I’ll do it,” he said, letting go of her hand for a moment before putting the meat in the refrigerator. When he was done he went back to her and took her hand in his again. “Show me your room?”
“Okay,” she said with a nod. She led him to her room and opened the door for him. She liked her room. It was suited to her tastes. But it was not his room, not his bed, and she hoped she would be able to sleep here.
“Do you want to change?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t mind sleeping in this tonight.” Then she thought about something. “What are you going to sleep in?”
“I can go purchase something later, or sleep in these clothes. And I can go back home and get some things later,” he said with a slight shrug. “I just don’t want to leave you alone right now.”
She let go of his hand and played with the lapel of his coat for a moment. “I like that you’re considerate. I wouldn’t have expected this before everything.”
“Only with you, Molly,” he said. “You are the exception to how I deal with everyone else. You will most likely always be the exception. Well, you and Mrs. Hudson.”
She chuckled slightly. “I hope you don’t think of Mrs. Hudson the same way you think of me.”
“Not in the slightest,” he said with a small grin. “I told you I don't know if I love you, but you are important to me.”
“You’re important to me, too,” she said, sliding her arms up around his neck. “Think I can get a better kiss than the one I got earlier?”
“I can do that,” he said with a nod before kissing her. She had to admit, kissing him was different than it had been with everyone else. Not better, not at first, because he was still holding back the first few times. But when they got more comfortable it became something that made her go weak in the knees. They hadn’t gone any further, and she wasn’t in a rush, but there was something about a kiss from him that brightened her day. The last time they had a fight the kiss when they reconciled had made her almost initiate a make-up shag just because she wanted to know just what doing that with him would be like. But she knew it wasn’t the right time.
He pulled away from her and rested her forehead against hers. “Was that better?”
“Much,” she said. Then she moved her head. “Come on. Let’s go lay down.” She let go of him and went to her bed. This might not be home anymore, but he was with her, and that would make it home enough for the time being.