A/N: I'm updating sooner then I thought I would be, I felt bad that the last chapter was a bit short so I kept on writing. This chapter is still just the story, but it's also possible my fake suicide explanation is close to what happened in the show, we wont know for sure until next season though. Thank you to everyone that has reviewed! I love to read them and they really encourage me to write. :)

Chapter 4

It had been simple really, faking his own death. Moriarty had been clever when he paid a man to have plastic surgery to look exactly like Sherlock, causing a young kidnapped girl to mistake Sherlock as her kidnapper. The seeds of doubt had been sewn, for Donavan it had even been the nail in Sherlock's coffin when the girl screamed her head off as Sherlock attempted to interrogate her to no avail. But it was foolish for Moriarty to let Sherlock able to deduce this, it allowed him to his the man's corpse as his own. The man had to die of course, there was no way Moriarty could afford for a second Sherlock to be running around, especially one as dimwitted at the man he paid to do it. It was a shame Moriarty assumed the body had been taken care of by another well paid man, but help was hard to come by these days. The body had been thrown over a bridge, but when the body hit the rocky cliffs instead of falling into the water, the man simply had a lack of caring, figuring the high tide would come soon enough and carry the body away.

The fake Sherlock had arrived on Molly's table the morning before the fall. Thinking the resemblance to Sherlock was too uncanny to not mention, she had promptly texted Sherlock about it.

"-New body just in, striking resemblance! You really should see it! x x"

It had been in the back of Sherlock's mind the whole day, he hadn't got a chance to see it until an hour before his meeting with Moriarty on the roof. Moriarty's second mistake, letting Sherlock decide upon the place and time of their meeting. Really, Moriarty was proving himself dumber by the minute that day.

It was Molly that he had chosen to call in his hour of need, she had the body he so desperately needed, and was able to wait two stories below the roof, prepared to toss the body through the window after she had the proper equipment to do so. Moriarty had been a fool, not realizing by dictating the location, Sherlock had set himself up to be forced into jumping off the building. It was only logical that this would be Moriarty's last demand of his favorite detective. Sherlock did not expect for the man to shoot himself first though, although in the end that had made it easier to get the timing right on jumping from the roof at the exact moment that a large waist truck drived by, allowing him to land on the top of the truck as a second body identical to his fell from a different window where Molly was waiting. It also helped that Molly would be the one doing the autopsy report, so all the 'facts' would match up.

Now all Sherlock had left was four assassins to kill, a simple enough task for him, or so he thought as he grinned to himself reclining in a chair in Molly's flat.

Molly had just woken up, she was still wearing her cat pajamas and large furry slippers as she wondered into the living room with a cuppa coffee.

"You're up early Sherlock."

"Didn't sleep actually, so I'm up late, not early."

Molly had turned the tele onto a news channel, barely paying attention to it. "When will you be coming that you're still alive?" Molly had once crushed over Sherlock, but after he had been secretly staying at her flat she started to loath him. He would insult her every chance he could get, he stayed up at strange hours making all manner of odd noises, and even worse, talked incessantly about his flat mate John. It was enough to drive anyone mad.

"Don't know yet,"

"When will you know? I mean, people are very upset about you, I went to your funeral yesterday."

"I know, I saw you there."

"You saw me?! What if someone had spotted you? Don't you think you're being a bit cruel to everyone."

"There are things I have to do before I can 'come back', just trust me on that. You're the only one that no one really pays any attention to, so I know if I stay here no one will find out. Besides, no one expects to see someone they believe to be dead."

Molly bit her lip at the insult, she knew she was practically invisible, but it still hurt that Sherlock would say it out loud and with no thought behind it. Just stated it as a dry fact, which it practically was to be fair.

A news report came on that hardly surprised Sherlock "Funeral of fake genius detective took place yesterday at the Forest Lawn Cemetery on 2nd and Cherry." A picture of Sherlock wearing his very hated hat popped up on the screen.

"Why is it always the hat picture?" Sherlock mumbled to himself.

Molly wasn't sure if she should change the channel to lighten the mood or if he really wanted to hear what the media had to say about him. He seemed more offended at the hat picture then by the title of 'fake genius'.

John awoke to the sun beaming down on him from the large window in the living room, he had fallen asleep in an awkward position while admiring Sherlock's violin. His entire body felt stiff as he got to his feet and attempted to stretch. He sat back down and closed his eyes again as he slowly recalled his dream. It was of Sherlock falling, no, jumping off the roof of that building. Every detail had been crystal clear, but none of it made any sense. It had been nearly a week, but the things that Sherlock had said to him on the phone, they still didn't sit right with him. Sherlock's last words still rang in his head, "It's all a magic trick. Goodbye John."

'No. It couldn't be. How could it?' The seeds of doubt had been sewn once again.