Disclaimer: None of the characters from Sherlock belong to me. I am simply the annoying next-door neighbor who sneaks in to play in the sandbox.

Triggers: None in this chapter, but the few will be posted on my bio in the next few days to avoid spoilers.

Author's notes: See below Chapter

This relationship wasn't normal by any means – how could it be when one Sherlock Holmes was the reason behind their first meeting?

She hadn't even remembered his name the first couple of week when he'd tagged (or, rather, been dragged kicking and screaming) along to the lab. He'd only seen her as the kitten-obsessed, quiet woman who occasionally blogged and had an unrequited crush on the mysterious detective. Through Sherlock's trips to St. Bart's, they formed a friendship.

A friendship that stayed strong after a psychopath had tried to blow two of them up by gaining the trust of the third, and through the suicide of their friend – a 'proven' fake detective who'd hired an actor to be his arch-nemesis. Molly had kept an eye on her friends after Sherlock's death, but she watched the former army doctor carefully. Knowing how much John had admired and relied on his friend, Molly tried to pay special attention to John as much as she could. She tried to cheer him up as much as possible, but she knew that she could never give him the truth about Sherlock, no matter how much both parties wanted it said. She could, however, make sure that he wouldn't do something he would later regret.

For six months she continued to check up on him once or twice a week, feeling and useless as she watched John sit in his new flat (he'd moved out of 221B as soon as humanly possible) and grieve. Her heart broke the first time she saw that he was using his cane again. But there was something about Doctor John Watson – even in his grief – that demanded respect, not pity. So as his friend, Molly was determined to give him that much, even if that required her to be yelled at or ignored until he passed through the grief he clung to.

It took around another six months for John to finally be able to leave his flat for extended periods and to be able to have a job without fear of losing it, but he did it – and Molly was so proud of him. From what she'd heard, John was quite a mess when he'd come home from Afghanistan. Surviving that hell and then two years later watching their best friend throw himself off a rooftop would be enough to break any person. There was a quiet strength in the former army doctor, Molly knew, and it was shining through now.

It was that strength that first attracted Molly to John – the quiet strength that few people had possession of. Even though she told herself that she was checking up on the doctor for Sherlock's sake, there was a part of her that admitted that she had a slight attraction to the doctor.

Through texts and lunches, that feeling began to grow and also became reciprocated. John began to fall in love with the tiny pathologist. Her simple demeanor and unassuming attitude was something that he was grateful for during his first year without his best friend. At first, the texts and lunch dates had been an apology for being beyond cruel when she'd first began to check up on him, but quickly he found himself completely enchanted by the woman. They had the same taste in music and hobbies, and they both had somewhat odd jobs. And the fact that she saw past the broken man in grief to the true man he could be increased his optimism every time he saw her.

They only went on a few true dates before they both knew that this was going to be a good, permanent relationship. Molly would, as they grew closer, become his confidant and help him with whatever she could while he would become her source of comfort when her job became too much. Each relied on the other to get through the day; yet it never bothered either of them. They knew they'd found what they were looking for in the other.

Soon they began talking of where their relationship was headed. Molly thought that marriage would come next, but kept her thoughts to herself, trying not to frighten him off. To her surprise, John was thinking the exact same thing and three days later, one Molly Hooper was engaged to John Watson.

As the two started to plan the wedding, something extraordinary happened – the only consulting detective in the world, Sherlock Holmes, apparently rose from the dead. John and Molly were relaxing at her flat after a hard day when they heard a knock at the door. John motioned for his fiancée to stay seated and went to answer the door.

From where Molly was sitting, she couldn't see who was at the door, but she could hear John and how furious he was. Running to the door, her jaw dropped at what she saw.

John turned to stare at his fiancée, who'd dashed in after hearing him shout. Molly turned pale when she saw Sherlock lying on her floor. "I thought he was dead," she whispered, unsure of how to react.

"So did I, but apparently the git was never really dead," John growled, too angry to raise his voice.

The three stared at each other, unsure of what to do. John, finally feeling the reality of the situation, left without a word toward Molly's kitchen. Trying to calm himself to think rationally, he poured himself some coffee when he heard Molly begin to question Sherlock.

"What are you trying to do, Sherlock? You know exactly how he was when you supposedly died. Just showing up without any type of warning…" Molly trailed off with her voice breaking. John listened intently, trying to catch every word. Unfortunately, he couldn't hear Sherlock's excuses, but he could hear every word that Molly said. "I could only do so much to help him. He lost his best friend and he had to make the decision to live by himself." Sherlock said something, probably not happy with her excuse. Then Molly replied, "I'm here because you asked me to take care of him and be–"

"You're here because he asked you to be?" demanded John, unable to be silent after a horrible thought came to mind. "You knew that he was alive?" he shouted.

"Yes," Molly whispered with tears gathering in her eyes.

"How long have you known?" John demanded, wondering what the h-l was happening. There was no way that Molly could do this – at least not for long. Perhaps, he started to think, that Sherlock had approached Molly earlier and forced her not to tell.

"I knew since the day he jumped," she confessed, the relief of finally coming clean obvious on her face.

"So…everything was a lie? Was this," motioning between them, "a lie?" When asked this question, Molly began to play with her engagement ring – a sure sign that she was thinking of the perfect way to phrase her answer. That only confirmed the fears in his mind. "That's what I thought," John growled angrily. He grabbed his keys and mobile before leaving his hurt, confused, fiancée and his newly resurrected best friend standing in her flat.

Author's Note: Hello! Thanks for taking the time to read this. This hasn't been beta-read or Brit-picked, so if you see something I missed or if the formatting is off, please feel free to let me know.