I've had this idea floating around in my head for a while now, which is why it's set before we know what happens with The Abominable Bride and series 4. Hopefully, this will help take your mind off the upcoming terrors of TLD and you can properly enjoy it.

I own nothing. Enjoy!

She was rereading the letter for what seemed to be the millionth time. He hadn't anticipated that she'd find it. It must have accidentally fallen out of his pocket when he was there last night to say goodbye.

She just couldn't believe that Sherlock would keep this from her! But then again, it said right there exactly why he wasn't telling her. He was trying to be gallant, to do the right thing. But this couldn't be the right thing to do. Because it just felt so wrong.

Running on autopilot, she read it again.

Dear Molly,

I'm aware that this is not something I would usually, or ever really, do. However, I feel that this is the best way to relay my sentiments about my upcoming exile.

There are so many things I want to tell you. But I can't. Because it would be cruel to tell you that I love you and then to leave the next day on a suicide mission, knowing that we could never really be together.

Because I do love you, Molly, I truly do. I yearn for a life with you. At first, I resisted my attraction to you. I was certain in my mindset that the Work was the most and only important thing in my life and always would be. I had continued to resist my attraction to you for quite a while, but during my time away after the Fall, I realized it was useless to ignore it. I decided I wanted to pursue a relationship, to explore the possibilities. I didn't know if I loved you at that point, I didn't even know if I was capable of it. But I was willing to try.

Unfortunately for me, you were engaged when I came back. I decided to step out of the way and let you be happy with your fiance. I began to doubt that I would have ever been able to make you happy in the first place. However, when I met Tom, "Meat-Dagger," I soon realized that your relationship with him wouldn't last. I thought that once you broke it off, maybe I could try and ask you around for experiments and some of Angelo's cooking at Baker Street. A date. Maybe not a normal one, but a date nonetheless.

But I got caught up in the case. It overtook everything in me. I can't bring myself to say I regret the decisions I made during this case. I did it for the good of many people, but especially for John and Mary.

The one thing I do regret about this case is that you began to hate me. You couldn't stand me. I don't blame you, Molly. The drugs really were for a case, but I know that that could never excuse it in your eyes.

As for my murder of Charles Magnussen, the man needed to die. Trust me when I say it was the only way. I was too confident, I thought I had it all planned out and that I could beat him, and I suppose that I did beat him in a way. Just not in the way I had hoped.

I am more than willing to accept my punishment for my crime. While my mind does scream against the injustice of it all, I know they can't just let a murderer go free, no matter how much the man deserved death.

If I had gone to prison, I would have gotten murdered by one of the criminals I helped to put into prison no doubt. I figured it would be better to go out while solving my last case than to die at the hands of some idiotic amateur killer I once put in prison.

This exile was my only option. I haven't told anyone it's a suicide mission. They don't deserve to have that kind of painful farewell thrust upon them. I will not tell you either, Molly. I don't want to leave you with thoughts of the what-might-have-beens.

My time for writing this letter is coming to a close, so I must bid you adieu, Molly Hooper.

Forever yours,

Sherlock Holmes

By the time she finished the letter again, Molly was sobbing. They weren't just cries anymore, they were heartbreaking, broken sobs of a woman who had just lost everything. It felt like she was being crushed. She couldn't believe that he was in love with her, and then that he was going to die! This was probably the biggest grievance the world could have bestowed upon her. This just wasn't fair. To have the man she loved given to her, only to have him ripped from her later on. She kept rereading the letter. She just had to make sure, it just didn't seem real to her.

Molly went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. This was a perfectly lousy situation so what better to do than have a cuppa? As she was filling the kettle, she thought back to the words of the letter. "Because it would be cruel to tell you I love you and then to leave the next day on a suicide mission...I was willing to try...I began to doubt that I would have ever been able to make you happy in the first place...A date. Maybe not a normal one, but a date nonetheless...The one thing I do regret about this case is that you began to hate me. You couldn't stand me. I don't blame you, Molly...I don't want to leave you with thoughts of the what-might-have-beens." Well, she sure was dwelling on the what-might-have-beens now. As for her hating him, as if she ever could! The man held her heart solely in his hands. It was his to do as he liked with it. But he couldn't do anything with it now. Other than break it, but she supposed it wasn't exactly his fault. She had a feeling he would have acted on his feelings had it not been for the case. She really did believe that. And then to think that he didn't think he could've made her happy. Who was she kidding? Just being near him made her happy. Most of the time anyway. She would've been perfectly ecstatic just to call him hers. Sher just couldn't believe he had so little confidence in himself and her love for him.

Meanwhile, in the airplane taking Sherlock away from London...

Sherlock went to pull his letter to Molly out of his pocket as had become a habit the past couple of days. When he found his pocket empty, he internally panicked. He didn't want his brother, John, Mary, Gavin, or Molly getting a hold of it. Molly... Oh no. That is it. That is the only possible solution. It was at Molly's... Which means she would find it... And being the curious creature she is, would read it... And then she would be... sad? At least he hoped she would. Who knows? He had gotten continually worse and worse at deducing Molly Hooper's emotions, even if he could tell what she had for breakfast that morning and that the waitress had flirted with her based off her blouse. This was not good. This was very not good. She would be angry. So so angry. Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything about it now. He was free from the consequences even. Well, the consequences being Molly's wrath. But he didn't want to be free of the consequences. He wanted her wrath. Longed for it even.

As Sherlock sat in his seat, wishing for things to be different, or for him to have not lost the letter at the very least, a man came out with a cell phone. "Sir?" Sherlock looked around at him. The man held out the cell phone, "It's your brother."

Mycroft. What on earth was he calling for?

Sherlock took the phone and held it to his ear, "Mycroft?"

"Hello, little brother. How is the exile going?" Sherlock could hear the usual condescension and arrogance in his voice. He internally gave an irritated huff. "I've only been gone four minutes."

When Mycroft next spoke, Sherlock could hear the smile in his voice, "Well, I certainly hope you've learned your lesson. As it turns out, you're needed."

Sherlock felt a rush of hope at these words, but kept his reply snappy and short, "Oh, for God's sake. Make up your mind. Who needs me this time?"

Mycroft gave an exasperated sigh and replied but didn't give an answer to the question, only creating about a hundred more. And all with one word, "England."

"Mycroft, will you stop speaking in riddles?!" Sherlock was getting fed up with his brother dancing around the question.

"Fine fine. Moriarty is back, dear brother. He seems to have hacked every screen in England simultaneously. We're going need your help to find out what he's up to this time."

Sherlock could feel the plane turning around, the pilot must have been informed already.

"All right. I suppose I'm going to be cleared then?"

He could hear Mycroft's sardonic smile, "Yes, I imagine we can accomplish that much."

"I'll be there soon. I assume you will fill John and Mary in for me."

"Yes, of course. Because there is nothing else I'd rather do at the moment. And I definitely don't have other things to do."

"Oh, just do it, Mycroft." He could see Mycroft rolling his eyes at the demand in his mind's eye. "Oh, and also, double Molly Hooper's security detail. I want her protected at all costs."

"My my, is that sentiment I hear talking, Sherlock?"

"No, it's me, Mycroft. And I'm telling you, you do not let anything happen to her. Do you understand?"

He could imagine Mycroft rolling his eyes and sneering, "Yes, I believe I understand perfectly. And yes, I will keep Doctor Hooper safe."

"Then I will see you soon. Goodbye." Sherlock hung up the phone and put his hands up in the prayer position on his chin.

He didn't really know what he was feeling. He was relieved that his exile was canceled of course, but he felt very agitated and yes, worried, over the Moriarty broadcast. Though there was no way that it was actually Moriarty, it could very well be someone just as dangerous, especially if they were able to accomplish hacking every single screen in England. Perhaps a leftover piece of the network that he missed? Nevermind that, he'd figure it out later. At the moment, what was important was that he found Molly. Oh, Christ, she is going to be angry.

"Well, time to face up now," Sherlock said to himself as the plane landed on the air strip.

Well, that was part one. Part two is coming soon. Hope you liked it and please review! I'm new to this and therefore very needy. And I really want to improve my writing, so if you have some tips, fire away! Thank you and have a nice day (or night, whichever is correct at the moment)!