Prologue.
"Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me?"
The repetitive nature of the voice over the broadcast made Molly look up from her work. She normally kept the television on while she was doing small, menial tasks. Not to actually watch it, but as a calming background white noise.
"Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me?"
Before she even looked at the screen, Molly was familiar with the voice. Even though it was electronically distorted. There was only one person she could think of who would say something like that. Who would ask such a self indulgent question. Only one person who could strike the type of terror that she was feeling right now.
Molly knew who it was before her eyes had even confirmed it. But that was impossible.
"Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me?"
Finally, Molly looked to the television screen. It was impossible, yet there he was. Jim Moriatry. Jim from IT.
She took two steps closer to the television set, not sure why she had done so and what being closer would achieve. She had over without thinking. Molly stared at him as he continued to repeat.
"Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me?"
So many questions were buzzing though her mind, colliding and exploding in a rain of confusion. How was he back? What was he doing? How did he survive? What was his plan? And, as always, the most important thing in her mind, this time, as many other times, formed as a question: Sherlock?
Sherlock had sent her a text earlier that morning. A brief message. To say he was going away for a while. Molly didn't know why he had told her, he had never told her when he had left before. It had been a few weeks since they had even spoken. Both of the. Probably still hurting from the incident on the lab when Molly had slapped him. Thrice.
But he had felt the need to tall her he was going away for a while. No other explanation other then that, and a sign off of 'Goodbye, Molly Hooper'
And now Jim was back.
She wasn't naive enough to think there was a reason behind him saying goodbye to her. But the alignment of the text and the reappearance of Jim made her realise that things were much more dire then she had first thought.
Sherlock was gone, and Jim was back.
Or Sherlock was gone because Jim was back.
Molly took a step forward again and sank to her knees in front of the television.
Questions still bubbling inside of her, warring with emotions dragged to the surface. Molly didn't understand anything that was going on, internally or externally.
Without further thought, Molly removed her phone from her pocket. She didn't know what she expected to be there. A text from Sherlock? Or a text from Jim? Neither.
They had all thought the case of Moriarty was over. They had assumed with the consulting criminal's suicide there would be no more to explore on the matter. They all assumed that Sherlock had won.
The battle maybe, us obviously not the war.
