Grace

I couldn't even look at this man that stood before me. This was not the man that I had fallen in love with, the one who I had agreed to marry, no, that man was dead, killed by him. My James was dead and now I was left with the cold-hearted wicked Moriarty.

"Look at me!" He snapped as he roughly grabbed my arms. "We are getting married tomorrow whether you like it or not!"

"No! I'm not marrying you." I spat and he slapped me.

"Why are you so damn stubborn!" He screamed at me.

"Because I hate you!" I screamed back. "What happed to the James that I knew?" I slowly placed my hand on his cheek and for a moment I watched his face softened and my James was back. But quickly he was gone and Moriarty shoved me to the ground.

I cowered in fear as he held his hand up as if to beat me. Suddenly he stopped and looked up his eyes filled with fear.

"How?" He gasped and suddenly a gunshot went off and Moriarty fell to the ground a bullet hole in his head.

Slowly I turned around to see Mycroft standing behind me leaning on his umbrella.

"Mycroft!" I gasped as I ran into his arms. "How did you find me?" I asked and I was surprised to feel his arms wrap around me.

"I've been searching for you since the funeral." He said.

"Why didn't you think I was dead, everyone I saw thought I was."

"I did think you were dead." He said as we slowly walked out of the building. Before we left, I turned around to look at Moriarty laying on the ground, his blank eyes staring at the ceiling. I tried not to cry as I walked away. This man had taken me to hell and back, he had beat me, raped me, and almost killed me multiple times, but there was a part of me that cared for him still and I hated him for it.

"Why did you search for me then, if you believed I was dead. Sherlock surly didn't care enough to even…"

"Don't, my brother is crushed, the only reason I searched for you is because I had some hope that my brother didn't fall in love for nothing. I couldn't let him suffer the way I did." Mycroft snapped

"Mycroft…" I started and I could feel the tears welling up.

"No, don't, start let's just get you home." He said and we both headed to a car that was waiting. On the drive to the airport, Mycroft informed me of everything that was going on. John was in a relationship, a pretty serious one by the way Mycroft described it. Molly and Lestrade were now together as he had split from his wife. I was happy for him, he deserved happiness and I knew he would be good to Molly, which was what she needed, someone good. However, what really got me was when he told me about Sherlock. He had stopped solving cases, and Mycroft told me that Sherlock was alone, having kicked John out and he was back on drugs.

"This is all my fault." I gasped as we got onto the plane.

"No Grace, it's mine. Sherlock wasn't raised to deal with grief. He was raised to keep it all inside. I should've tried to be closer to him but I just kept my distance." I could hear the sadness building in Mycroft's voice as I turned to look at him. "That's why I want to get you home and soon as possible. Maybe you could break Sherlock of this disgusting habit and get him back to the Sherlock we all know." He said clearing his throat.

I put on a fake smile trying to hide the fear that was inside of me. "I'm not ready to see Sherlock again." I thought. After everything that had happened in the past two years, what had happened between James and me, I felt as if I had betrayed Sherlock. And I knew that the minute he saw me he could read me, he would know everything I did. He would hate me, he would be disgusted by me and I couldn't let that happen.

When on the plane, I slept the first good sleep I had had since I had been with Moriarty. However, the sleep was cut short as I had a nightmare.

"You think you are free Gracie! You will never be free." Moriarty screamed at me.

I woke with a start to find the plane empty.

"Mycroft!" I called but I was met by an unnatural silence. My body was shaking; I needed a drink, something to calm me down. I ran over to the bar to find it fully stocked. Quickly I grabbed a bottle and popped the lid off. I downed about half of it before I heard Mycroft.

"Grace!" He called and I hurriedly shoved the bottle back behind the bar. "We are here," He said.

Hesitantly I got into the car. On the ride to the flat, I held my hands between my legs trying to hide how bad they were shaking. I desperately craved that bottle of scotch that was still on the plane.

Mycroft wasn't the small talk type of guy, so the car ride was silent. As we turned onto the street all the memories that I had tried to forget suddenly hit me. The first moment I saw Sherlock, when we dance, our first kiss. Then, I remembered what I had done with James, and how guilty I felt. The guilt tore at me as the car slowly came to a stop. I looked out the window to see the place that I had longed to be for the past two years, but now, it was the last place on earth that I wanted to be.

"I can't," I gasped as Mycroft opened the door.

"I never thought I would hear you say that, this coming from the girl who broke through my brother's shield and made him feel love. Grace Watson, if you can do that you can do anything." Mycroft said as he helped me get out of the car.

"Thank you." I sighed as I hugged him. For a moment, I swear I could hear him say, "Fix my brother."

I stood in the street for a while after Mycroft left. A part of me wanted to run; to just leave, but the other part of me knew that I owed Sherlock so much. As I opened the door, the familiar scent took me back.

A smile slid across my face for the first time in years, I realized, I was home. I could feel myself shaking as I slowly grabbed the banister and walked up the stairs. As I took each step, I could feel my heart beating faster.

I turned into the parlor and saw John standing facing the fireplace.

"John," I gasped. I saw the sadness in his eyes as he turned to me.

He took a step back as he looked at me. "This isn't funny." He snapped, not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.

"John it's me, its Gracie." I said taking a step closer.

He looked me up and down. "But you were dead, we buried you ." He said his voice cracking.

I know I'm so sorry, I made a deal with Moriarty…" I started.

"It has been 2 years!" He screamed causing me to jump.

"I know, I know." I said starting to cry.

"You couldn't have done something to let us know that you were ok, a call, a letter, something!"

"I couldn't, Moriarty blocked my phone and he said if I did let you know, he would kill you and Sh…"

"Do you realize what hell you put me through? Do you realize what you have done to Sherlock?"

"I'm sorry." I cried and suddenly John rushed to me pulling me into his arms.

"Your alive," He sobbed as I cried into his neck.

"I'm so sorry."

"I forgive you for everything," He said pulling me closer.

We both cried for a while before we sat down on the couch and talked.

"You look awful," John said and I laughed.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically.

"No, I mean, you're really pale and skinny, too skinny as he pointed to my arms."

"Can we not talk about it?" I said and again I craved some scotch I knew there was a bottle hidden at the back of the fridge or at least there was the last time I was here. However, I couldn't show John my weakness.

"How are you alive?" John asked.

"John no, please, no questions." I begged the thought of the scotch got worse as I started to feel my hands shaking."Where is he?" I asked.

"I do not know, that's why I'm here, Mrs. Hudson called. Sherlock hasn't come home in a few day." He said and I could hear the worry in his voice.

"He's on drugs again." I said my voice cracking.

"What!" John gasped.

"Mycroft told me. We need to find where he has stashed it." I said as I suddenly stood up not being able to sit still any longer.

"Grace, this is Sherlock we are talking about." John said as my eyes quickly darted around the flat. "He's probably hidden it somewhere where we will never…"

"It's in the fire place!" I exclaimed as I rushed to it reaching up. "Oh my god!" I gasped as I pulled out a one pound bag of cocaine. Sherlock was in way deeper than I thought. "John!" I looked over and saw the fear in his eyes.

"What are we going to do?" John asked.

"We are going to get rid of it now!" I exclaimed angry at Sherlock for being so stupid. I quickly went to the sink and dumped the whole bog down the drain.

"Grace," I heard someone mumble.

"How could he be so stupid John?" I said but when I turned around, I found that John wasn't behind me. It was Sherlock. He stood, his eyes red, as he looked me up and down. His hair was matted on his head and he looked as if he hadn't taken a shower in over a week. He was unnaturally skinny and ungodly pale.

"Sherlock." I gasped placing my hand over my mouth. "What happened while I was away." I thought.