A/N: DON'T WORRY, I DIDN'T FORGET ABOUT YOU I STILL LOVE YOU I PROMISE! I was just trying to focus at first on my novel in November because NaNoWriMo, but then I gave up on that and decided to focus on one of my other fics for NaNo, which didn't really work out, and then in December my friend and I did a drabble challenge and it was adorable and I should shut up now, shouldn't I? Yeah, okay.

So, here you have it, the first chapter! From here, each chapter is going to be split into parts- first by episode, and then I'll see how long the final chapter ends up being, and I'll decide how to split that up when I get to it. Oh, and by the way, remember, this isn't my head-canon, this is my dad's. In my head-canon, Mycroft is amazing and fantastic and ohgodIlovehimsomuch.

Oh, and this chapter is exactly 777 words. This pleases me.

Anyway. Shutting up now. Please read, review, and most of all, enjoy! (And don't kill me!)

The death had been the easy part to figure out- and in no small part in thanks to Molly. Knowing someone who worked in a morgue who would also do anything for you (even if you did not reciprocate the feelings), it turns out, is very helpful when staging one's death. As The Woman might say, Sherlock knew the Medical Examiner- well, he knows what she likes.

They had planned it all together. Every move, every step, from the rooftop to the pavement to back inside. They had planned how to keep John away from him, as John would be able to recognise if that hadn't really been Sherlock.

The plan, of course, put together at the last minute, hadn't been fool-proof, but Sherlock and Molly were no fools, so it was pulled off without a hitch.

In his absence from his regular life, Molly kept Sherlock informed on how everyone was doing- especially how John was doing without him.

Sherlock had wanted so much to go see John. To just tell him he was okay, and he could stop being sad and lonely, and that it would all be over soon. But he knew he'd have to wait. It would be too risky if he were to see John now. Any change in his behaviour, and the others in his life would begin to suspect something. So he couldn't. And so he didn't. For three years, he had to let John think he was dead, as much as it hurt the both of them.

So, one by one, he tracked down Moriarty's men. One by one, he found them. One by one, he would go to them, wherever in the world they were. And, one by one, he would take them out.

That, however, had been the easy part. The hard part had been in making sure no one would find out what he was doing. No one could know his plans, no one could know he was alive, no one could know anything. It would put everything he was working for in jeopardy, and he couldn't risk that. If the wrong people found out he was alive, it would put not only John, Mrs Hudson, and Lestrade at risk again, but Molly as well, and the few others who would help and harbour him when he felt himself being too much of a burden on or nuisance towards Molly.

So he made sure to stay off of the radar of not only Moriarty, not only the government, but so, so many more.

Most of Sherlock's days spent in Molly's flat were days spent aimlessly walking around when he was unable to find one of Moriarty's men. He would pace around and play his violin- not his violin, not really. His violin was still back at the flat, safe in John's care. He would sometimes throw fits, even throwing things across a room in frustration every now and then. Although he usually regretted those immediately, and that was usually when he would leave and stay elsewhere.

It was then, when he wasn't at Molly's flat that he usually did the most research. Molly could be helpful in his searching and was sometimes very valuable, but her resources and abilities were limited.

As he had found each of the men, however, he would go to them and see to their end. And in their final moments he would make them give him at least one other men until he was sure they had all gone. Sometimes their fear of Sherlock alone was enough to make them give him a name. Sometimes, like he had done with the cabbie, Sherlock had to rather painfully force a name out of them.

Before he knew it, three years had passed, and he had taken all of Moriarty's men down. When it had gotten down to the last few, it had gotten surprisingly easier to finish them. He had finally done it- he'd gotten rid of Moriarty's spider web.

But there was one thing that still remained. Moriarty himself, the centre of the web which was crumbling around him at the hands of Sherlock.

As Sherlock spent an extensive amount of time- he didn't know whether it was hours, days, or weeks- thinking about his plan, that was when he started to reflect on his past encounters with Moriarty, and that was when he was forced to dwell on them.

And when he was forced to dwell on them was when Sherlock started putting together all of the pieces. That was how he had discovered Moriarty's dark secret. Much to the villain's surprise. And it almost made Sherlock wish he hadn't.

Yeah. That was boring. But the next few chapters will be better, and will be updated MUCH, MUCH SOONER, I PROMISE! Please don't forget to review!

Keep Writing. XD