The day after the incident, Sherlock began to work on getting sober and Molly delicately told John about what had happened while the two of them were stepping out of the lab. The doctor sadly shook his head with anger and pain as he didn't look at Molly, but looked at the detective through the window of the door. "I'm done with his suicides," he bitterly muttered. He turned back at her, but didn't look her in the eyes. "I'm now worried that he'll-" His voice faded as he swallowed, not wanting to carry on the thought.

Molly sighed as her heart ached. "I know. He's working on it," she told him. "He is going to get random tests and after what happened, I'm sure it struck some sense into him." She hoped that it was true. She was wasn't ready to come home to finding her beloved boyfriend dead in his flat with a note or with a syringe in his hand. "We just have to be supportive and stay by his side."

"But six months," he whispered as he looked into her eyes with pain.

"I know. I know." She looked down with her eyes, biting her lip, still not believing that he kept that hidden for six months.

John placed a hand to his forehead as he walked around a little with a sigh, then stopped and looked at the working detective through the window. His hand fell to his side as pain and worry grew over his face. "I don't want to go through another suicide." He sadly smirked. "I really don't want to."

Molly placed a hand on his shoulder. "Me too," she muttered. She may have helped the detective fake his death, but there was no way she was going to let him die. Especially permanently. That was one too many times for him to die.

The two of them just watched Sherlock through the window in silence as he was looking through a microscope, not caring if he noticed them or not, but more than likely, he didn't. His narrow eyes were so concentrated on what they were studying as his mind was thinking. His mind was too brilliant to waste and so was he.

A week had past.

A week exactly from the incident when Molly was going to say the night at 221B Baker Street. So far there were no signs of the drugs or of him using them, then again… Neither had any of that was seen for six months. She was wearing an oversized shirt when they were turning in for bed, but she stopped by the doorway, just watching her boyfriend with concern as she gently tapping her two fingers together. It was on this day a week ago she could've found her boyfriend dead.

"Molly?"

"Hm?" His baritone voice caught her attention.

"Are you coming?" He was already laying in bed in the dark room.

Silently she made her way to the bed, crawled under the sheets, and cuddled close to Sherlock's chest, making him automatically hold her. "Sherlock?" She began meekly.

"Hm?"

It sounded like he was tired.

"I know it's too soon to ask, but are you sure that you're getting sober?"

"What makes you-"

She was trying to fight the tears as she rested her head on his arm. "You lied for six months," she whispered as a tear escaped. How was she supposed to trust him after that? Half a year that was kept hidden and now she was supposed to trust him?

He held her close and kissed her head. "I haven't touched the stuff since that day," he told her in a low and groggy voice. "I promise you I'll past the upcoming test. Whenever that may be." He began to get drowsy. "Don't fret, Molly."

Molly said nothing, rolling over with her back to him, but still close and with his arm around her waist. She placed a hand over his own, fearing of what if it would turn cold and stiff. Fighting the thought, she closed her eyes tightly. He is alive, she told herself. His heart is beating and he is alive. No drugs of any sort are flowing though those veins… I hope. She remembered walking into the flat, only to see her boyfriend on the brink of tears and him telling her that he lied. It was only seven days ago that she found the gun on the table, only with him telling that he was contemplating to-

Did he even place the gun to his head?

The thought made her open her eyes with dread, staring into the darkness as Sherlock was heavily breathing behind her.

She didn't want to imagine the thought of Sherlock sitting on the couch with the gun placed to his temple and finger on the trigger, only thinking if he should pull it or not. Well, she did imagine it and it scared her. She could just see him setting the gun down and laying back on the couch, not ready to give up. No. He was not ready to give up the fight.

Sherlock Holmes was not going to give up.

She took a deep breath to calm herself as she closed her eyes, remembering that he told her that the only thing that stopped him was the he was not going to give up.

He was a fighter and a defender.

Molly knew that he wasn't going admit it, but she knew that he wasn't ready to leave her, John, or the others… The other reason why he didn't do it.

"Molly," his drousy voice suddenly spoke.

She knew that his sharp mind sensed her concern.

"I'm not going anywhere. Trust me."

She slowly smiled as her mind began to soothe, knowing that it was true. "I do, my love."

The rest of the night was peaceful as the two fell asleep and woke up, still in each others arms.

Five days after was the test.

A confidant Sherlock along with a nervous friend and girlfriend were waiting in the lab for the results.

When they came out, Molly looked at the results on the computer with John over her shoulder and the two smiled at each other with relief. Molly was relieved to see that Sherlock was clean. So relieved that she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him strongly.

John gave a proud pat on his friend's shoulder when they couple pulled apart, who just looked bored and confused to see all the excitement.

"I told you I was clean," he dryly told them as he looked at the pair. A small humorous smile formed over his thin lips. "I thought you had more trust in me than that."

"Well, we're just glad that you don't have that crap in your veins," John smirked. "Let alone with a bullet in your brain."

Sherlock smirked at that. "I suppose you're right about that." He then looked at the two of the with disappointment. "Clearly you two had less faith in me."

"You lied for six months, Sherlock," John stated.

"You got to admit, I lied pretty well." There was humor in his grey eyes.

Molly lightly slapped her boyfriend's arm. "Too well," she grumbled, looking at him in the eyes. "This is something to proud of otherwise you would've lost the brain of yours."

"That would be awful, wouldn't it?" He asked as he looked straight ahead of himself in a pondering manner.

"Is that the only thing that stopped you?" John asked, earning both of their attention. "Just not wanting to give up? You faked your suicide once already!"

Sherlock gave a small shrug. "I suppose I didn't want Mrs. Hudson or Molly to walk into my suicide. That would've been depressing."

"Like I checked your pulse on your supposedly dead body?" John snapped.

"I already apologized for that," the detective muttered.

"Just no more suicides? Alright?" John asked, making sure that it was the plan.

Sherlock smirked. "No more suicides."

The doctor gave a curt nod of the head. "Yeah. Glad that's settled."

Molly hugged her boyfriend, resting her head on his chest with a smile on her face. "I love you."

He wrapped his arms around her and said quietly, "I love you, too."

The pathologist didn't want to let him go as she closed her eyes, relieved that his first test was clean and knew that this wasn't going to be an easy journey, but they were going to pull through. They always did.

"Um… Yeah," she heard John say. "I'll just… Leave you to your hugging fest."

She felt Sherlock give him a small wave to shoo behind her back, making her giggle.

The sound of John's footsteps began to grow distant as the couple lovingly kissed each other, then the doors opened and closed, leaving the two alone.

Molly savored the kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes, knowing that he was not going anywhere any time soon.

Sherlock Holmes was never going to go down without a fight.

I want to thank you for favoriting and reviewing it really helps and am much obliged. I hoped you enjoyed it.

Also, I will be turning this into a full-length story called Words Never Meant to be Said.