artbylexie:WWII!Sherlolly AU - HomeSherlock is ready to leave this place, has been ready to leave th

artbylexie:WWII!Sherlolly AU - HomeSherlock is ready to leave this place, has been ready to leave this forsaken place for days now, but his limbs are unresponsive, and frankly he is dying of boredom. Really, he wasn’t more than a bit dehydrated and malnourished with some superficial wounds (a dislocated shoulder was hardly worth all the fuss), there was no reason to not let him go home, to be in his own home finally after two years of being away, to see his wife, for Godssakes.“Sherlock!”His ears perked up as he heard her voice, though he was weary of getting optimistic. He’d often heard her voice in the dark nights of his incarceration, his delusional mind conjuring her up from thin air to get him through the pain and the fear. Even though he was in England now, and the war was over (or so he’d been told), they still hadn’t let him in touch with anyone–“Oh my God, Sherlock.”And suddenly, there she was, uniform crinkled, hair falling out of her cap, tears filling her eyes. Real, solid, a white knuckle grip on the end of his hospital bed, chest heaving up and down as if she were out of breath.He cleared his throat and tried to sit up as much as he could. He knew he must look a fright: he hadn’t shaved in weeks, his hair was long and unkept, thinner than he’d ever been and there was the damnable shaking of his hands. “Molly,” his voice was altogether too rough.Suddenly, she was there: she’d climbed right onto the bed with him and had his face in her hands, kissing every bit of his face that she could find, before clinging to his neck. He felt his own tears spring up as he held her to him as closely as he could.“I thought you were dead,” she hiccuped against him, “I kept waiting for the telegram to come, or someone to show up to the flat. There’s still so many unaccounted for so I had hoped so much that you weren’t–”Molly stopped to sob loudly and try to kiss his neck at the same time. Sherlock made soothing noises, but was unable to form proper words as he reveled in her miraculous presence.“And then Mycroft showed up in the morgue, and I think my heart would stop. And then he told me you’d been POW but you were here now and I don’t remember what else he said.”She pulled back and held his face again, looking deeply into his eyes. “You’re home. God, Sherlock, you’re home.”He pulled her towards him, crushing their lips together.He was home. And for the first time, he really believed it.I’ve had this banging around for almost a year (nearly to the date), and I finally wrote something to go with it. I guess I felt inspired today (thanks, Radio 4!). This ridiculous AU makes me so happy.  -- source link

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