Slick Cement

Window

*Molly POV*

I message Sherlock, standing below his window in the darkness.

I'm here. Open the window?- MH

Its unlocked. Use the tree.- SH

Thanks. Ill be right up.- MH

When I get to the top, I knock lightly on the glass. Sherlock opens it, clearly flustered. I realize he doesn't have a shirt on, making me blush.

"Sorry. All my shirts are in the wash right now."

He holds out a hand, pulling me into the room. I trip on my way in, falling against Sherlock. He immidiately wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. For a few moments, neither one of us moves. I lie my head on his shoulder, hugging him lightly.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

"Did you eat something yet?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Sherlock kisses the top of my head lightly, finaly taking a step back. Redbeard jumps on me as soon as Sherlock moves, paws on my chest.

"Redbeard, down. Get down."

He sits down, tail wagging. I kneel beside him, scratching behind his ears. Sherlock sits on his bed, offering me a seat on the spinning chair that is by the desk. I sit down, Redbeard following to sit at my feet. Sherlock inhales sharply, looking down at his feet.

"What's wrong?"

"I...I umm...should tell you what happened, shouldnt I?"

"Only if you are comfortable with it."

He nods, biting his lip. He still wont make eye contact with me, staring at a stain on his rug. Redbeard runs over to him, jumping onto the bed and sitting at Sherlocks side. I walk over, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. He wraps his arm around me, letting me lie my head back on his shoulder.

"Its...ummm..its complicated. What's going on right now. I'm not sure how well I can explain it to you..."

"Its okay Sherlock."

"Like I said earlier, Redbeard is my service dog. I need him to help with everything, I've had him since I was seven. He...he really does help with everything. There is so much that is wrong with me and so little we can do about it that it just helps to have him with me."

Redbeard lies his head on Sherlocks knees, licking his hand. Sherlock seems to relax, taking another deep breath before he continues.

"I am anorexic, I have been since I was thirteen. We are managing that the best we can, but that is what happened today. I hadnt eaten an acceptable amount of food in about four days, and that doubled with the football guys made it worse. I thought I could manage, but almost passed out instead. I was...was ummm...moving too fast."

"Why didnt you tell me?"

"I got scared again."

I turn, hugging him tightly. He starts crying, hiding his face from me for a few minutes until he is breathing normaly.

"It scares me, everything. I don't want to be like this, and it makes my anxiety worse when anything happens. I dont like the hospitals, and thats the only reason I'm not in one right now. We have managed to keep me out for three years now, because of what happened the first time."

He doesnt elaborate, just lies back against me. I run my fingers through his hair, noticing the slight smile on his lips when I do it.

"Its okay Sherlock."