Sally Holmes stood shaking in the flat that she shared with her husband and his best friend, John Watson. She could hardly stand still with the horrible stress that had overcome her. If only she hadn't fallen in love with and married the Reichenbach hero, then maybe she wouldn't be freaking out the way she was.

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson had become fugitives. Sally didn't like it. Not one bit.

Conspiracy had stated that criminal mastermind James Moriarty was a fictional character created by her husband. This conspiracy continued on to state that he had paid an actor to portray the criminal, simply for the purpose that Sherlock could "solve" his crimes and make himself out as a hero. Of course, Sally wasn't buying a single syllable of it. However, DI Lestrade didn't seem to be as competent as she, and now he had a warrant out for his arrest.

Watson was too noble to let Sherlock go down on his own, so Watson dirtied his hands in order to get a warrant for his arrest placed as well. And, as her sociopath would have it, rather than be taken into the station, found not guilty, and then subsequently be released, he escaped. And poor Watson went with him. And now they were who knows where. Sally was shaking. Where could those idiots have gone?

The sun started to rise, and Sally squinted in the light. She had been waiting up in the dark, waiting for her deceptively idiotic husband to come trailing in, so she could yell at him for being so stupid. But then dawn rolled in, and Sally was getting scared. She knew her husband couldn't resist a good text message, so she grabbed her phone and thought she'd send him one.

Where are you? I don't like what you did. Come home so I can yell at you properly.

Sally's text was then transmitted to Sherlock's phone, which then began to buzz. Sherlock was a few feet away, obliviously staring into space.

"Sherlock, are you going to answer that? It might be Sally, she's probably worried" John Watson said to one of his flat-mates.

"I'm busy," was all that Sherlock could say.

"What, too busy to, oh you know what, forget it," Watson said as he got up and made his way to Sherlock's phone. He looked at it, and read aloud the text that Sally had sent. Watson then waited for a response, but Sherlock simply said:

"I'm not really in the mood for that." Watson sighed, and then used Sherlock's mobile to reply:

This is John. We are fine. Sherlock needs some time to figure out how to best Moriarty. We are at the lab.

Once Sally received this message, she let out a sigh of relief. She decided that she was going to meet them there. But first, she needed some coffee to wake her up. Also, if Sherlock was going to be his irritating self, she needed a weapon against him. And if that had to be steaming hot coffee, so be it. She left her home of 221B Baker Street, hailed a cab, and then headed off to a coffee shop.

When she arrived at the lab, she angrily sighed. It was deserted, with no sign of Sherlock or Watson. She sat down her coffee with a loud thump, and then pulled out her phone to send Sherlock another text.

SERIOUSLY?!

By the time Sherlock received this text, he was standing on a hospital roof, having one last stand-off with Moriarty. When his phone buzzed, Moriarty laughed.

"Oh, you're not going to answer that? Might be one of the three people my snipers are aimed at. Good time for a final good-bye, don't you think?" he said with a wicked smile. Sherlock glared at him, filled with contempt for the insanity that was bent on ruining him.

The next thing Sally knew, Sherlock was calling her. She thought this was strange, but answered regardless.

"Sherlock, what is going on? I'm tired of this. Can't you please just let me know where you are?"

"Sally, I have something I want to confess." He said.

"What are you talking about?" she asked confused.

"Everything that you've heard about; it's all true."

"Sherlock…" she said disappointedly.

"There was never a Moriarty, I invented him" he said practically in tears.

"Sherlock, honey, please stop saying these ridiculous things. C'mon, tell me where you are" she pleaded as she wandered the streets near the hospital.

"Just stay where you are, right there" he said. Sally listened and did as she was asked.

"Sherlock, please, where are you? You're scaring me, I can hear you crying, for God's sake!"

"I'm not really that smart. Nobody can be that smart" he went on to say. Sally laughed.

"That's not true. You are, and you know that. You are the smartest man in the world, and you know that. I don't go around marrying idiots, you know" she added flirtatiously.

Sherlock gave a small laugh amongst his tears.

"When we first met," Sally began, "you knew about my brother. And all you did was look at my phone. And then you told me about my parents by the way I wore my hair, and my friends by the clothes I was wearing. Trust me, you are a genius. And I love you. I know you love me too, so please, stop scaring me. Tell me where you are, Sherlock!"

"I'm standing on the roof of the hospital" he said, clearing in rough shape. Sally timidly looked up.

"Sherlock, get down from there. You could…" Sally's voice trailed off. She knew it didn't need saying.

"This phonecall… it's my note."

"Sherlock, shut up and get down from there. Don't you dare do this!" She practically yelled.

"I don't have a choice"

"Don't be stupid! You always have a choice. Now listen to your wife and get down from there!" she screamed in tears.

"I love you, and I always will" Sherlock said in tears. Sally's heart sank when she saw the silhouette of Sherlock leap off the hospital roof.

"SHERLOOOOOOCK!" Sally screamed as she rushed over to where her husband had landed. In her rush out into the street, she was hit by a cyclist, but she shrugged it off and kept walking. Tears streamed down her face. By the time she got to Sherlock, he was already surrounded by hospital staff, and they wouldn't let her through. She screamed and cried for her husband, and soon John was there, and he was strong for her. He let her mourn and sob into his shirt.

A few days went by, and Sally, Watson, and Mrs. Hudson, all dressed in black, headed over to the local cemetery. Sally was unusually silent, as she knew she couldn't utter a word without risking bursting out into tears.

When they reached the grave, Mrs. Hudson and Watson said their good-byes. Then Sally sat down and leaned against the gravestone. "Sherlock, I love you, and I don't ever want to leave you." Then she closed her eyes and let tears stream down her face. She nearly jumped when she felt lips press up against hers. She alarmingly opened her eyes and saw her husband's face next to hers. She slapped him.

"I thought you were dead, you idiot!" Sherlock laughed, then his relieved wife kissed him. Sherlock helped her up, and then the two of them left the cemetery, hand-in-hand.