Swallowing thickly, Sherlock looked at Molly for a moment to make sure, but then he glanced back at her arm. He hoped that it wouldn’t hurt her too much, but he knew better than that. After a few moments, he moved quickly, but it took longer than he wanted it to to pop it back into place. When it was done, his hands remained firmly placed on her arm to make sure it wouldn’t get any further injuries. “You really should have gone to one of the nurses, though, Molly. I’m not exactly the best person to go to when you need help with these things.”
Not being able to help the sound of pain which left her, Molly’s good arm instinctively reached out to Sherlock, not quite trusting herself yet. “Is it done?” she gasped, still not wanting to look yet. She trusted Sherlock fully with this, knowing him well enough to know he could easily do this. “I may need some ice as well. Not too sure.”