Hi again! First of all for the record I do know it is not Wednesday and I am very sorry! Right now I think it is about time to end our little cliffhanger so here is the next chapter!

Disclaimer: Though I would greatly love owning these amazing characters I sadly do not. They belong to the great Moffat and Gatiss!

Next thing I knew, I was on top of the man yelling at the top of my lungs and pummeling him to a pulp. It felt like I was on the outside watching this happen to two other people, not doing it myself. After what felt like an eternity, I felt my self being dragged off of him. I was so exhausted and angry I didn't resist the hands that pulled me free of my trance-like state. It turned out to be Lestrade and Molly, but as soon as I was off Lestrade took his turn. I just sat on the floor staring at my feet until once again I was pulled up and seated in my chair. Apparently, Molly had somehow managed to pull Lestrade off of "Sherlock" before any more damage was done to him. I looked up and saw the man now in a standing position, but he was swaying. His face had bruises already forming on his pale skin and blood trickling from his mouth, nose, and other various gashes covering his face. Before he fell down, Molly led him to the chair across from me where he slumped down and stared at his enormous feet. I couldn't take looking at him so I stared without blinking at my shaking hands. Suddenly, there were comforting hands rubbing my shoulders in a tender way. Glancing up, I remembered Mrs. Hudson had been in the room the whole time and now she was trying to help me calm down. I gave her a tight, forced smile and returned my gaze to my hands. How can this be happening? I thought, shaking my head slowly.

"John, I'm sorry," the man whispered.

I looked up to meet the eyes of the man who used to be my best friend. My eyes welled up, but I refused to let the tears fall down my cheeks. I didn't say anything, I just stared at the familiar face that I had grown so accustomed to seeing everyday and then lost for what I thought was forever. My mind felt like someone mixing cookie dough, I couldn't figure anything out or put anything together.

"No," I muttered. "No, no, no." I repeated the two letter word over and over again.

I stood quickly up and felt my head spinning in circles as I stumbled to the door. It felt like I was looking out someone's glasses who had a very high prescription. Everything was blurry. I ran to the side of the curb and threw my hand in the air for a cab. Collapsing onto the seat as soon as the door opened, I told the cabbie where I wanted to go before I even knew what I was saying.

"St. Bart's hospital."

The car went into motion and I held my head in my hands. It was the only thing I could do not to explode in a wild mass of emotions. I slumped down and held my breath for what felt like an eternity until the cab came to a halt. Stumbling, I fell out of the cab after throwing a random amount of money in the approximate direction of where the cabbie was seated at the wheel. Standing before the white brick building, I did something I hadn't done in three years. I looked up at the roof. It was the same as I remembered it, looming large over many other buildings and also the place that my best friend "died". Images of the black coat fluttering as the body that wore it plunged to the concrete that lay below flew in front of my eyes. I don't know how long I was standing on the opposing sidewalk to the building, but after a while I noticed a body standing tall next to me. When I was starting to ignore it and thinking that it was just someone with an interesting hobby, an awkward hand was placed on my shoulder and I immediately knew who it was. Turning to face him, I again looked into his face. I don't remember much, but I do know he hailed another cab back to the flat and guided me into the seat. During the whole duration of the event I stayed somber and allowed him to move me forward. The ride back was silent and full of unsaid words. When we got back to the flat, he led me back up and sat me down in my chair where there was a cup of tea waiting on the end table. Lestrade was sitting on the sofa staring straight ahead at the fire place and not acknowledging anything around him. Mrs. Hudson was in the kitchen preparing more tea for everyone else and Molly was sitting in the chair next to the desk while Sherlock took the seat across from me.

Molly was the first one to to speak, "John, Mrs. Hudson, Greg, I'm very sorry for not telling you all, but the thing you all need to understand is that I couldn't. Nobody could," she stuttered at the end and looked down at her feet.

"Why?" I muttered, leaning back and actually looking up at her.

This time though, the person to answer was not Molly, but Sherlock. "Moriarty had been on the roof with me and as you probably all know, he committed suicide. Before that though he had told me something that I knew was coming ahead of time. If I didn't die, all of you would. He had snipers already out and ready to pull the trigger at his signal. Moriarty knew that that was the only way I was going to jump off of Bart's; if I knew he would hurt you all. Before I went to the roof I had everything planned. I knew I was going to have to fake my death. Jim was a smart man, but he didn't remember one person. Molly. She was the only person I knew of who would be able to help me since she is a pathologist. Molly was driving the truck that stood in front of the building and the people surrounding were people of my homeless network. Two of them rolled a replica of my body from the truck and when I jumped I landed on a cushion and was pushed into the underbelly of the truck by two other members of the network. The biker who hit you, John, was another person working for me as a distraction so we had time to get away before you got there. I changed into a disguise and Molly acted as though she were picking up trash from her building when I escaped into her flat. She then went back to work, labeled the fake body as my body and it was finished except for one part. The rest of the Moriarty network was still out there. If I showed my face, they would kill you all on sight. That's how the next part of my journey went. For the next year Molly hid me in her flat, away from the world until most people would've forgotten almost completely that I had ever existed in the first place. Next, I knew I needed help and the only person I knew could help me was my brother. After severely lecturing me, Mycroft agreed to help me destroy the web. It took two years to kill or scramble the network to no return. There is only one person left on my list and that is a man named Sebastian Moran. Jim Moriarty's cousin and right hand sniper. He's currently trying to find new members. That's it," he finally finished throwing his arms in the air in surrender.

Mrs. Hudson choose that moment to come out with a tray of tea cups with cream and sugar in little pitchers on the side. When she handed Sherlock his, she patted him on the shoulder and smiled at him. I realized then that she wasn't mad at him, she was just extremely happy to have the man who was like a son to her back and mostly safe. Knowing that everyone was waiting for me to say something, I took a deep breath and let out a large sigh before speaking.

"You know what? I hated you every day for doing that to me. If I ever saw you again I vowed to myself I would kill you on sight. Now, though, I'm still angry, frustrated, and sad, but I'm also just extremely happy to see you alive and breathing," I said looking into my now empty cup. "I guess I'm just mixed up on what to feel," I looked up into his pale, sharp face that held bruises and gashes but not the blood. It was familiar, yet haunted me to look at.

Lestrade, who I forgot was in the room, took his turn to speak then. "I feel the same as John, I couldn't have put it any better myself."

Mrs. Hudson didn't say anything, but everyone knew what she was thinking. Everyone stayed silent and it felt good and comfortable to be in the same room with all of my friends for the first time in three years. It was now 8 o'clock and no one felt like eating anymore so we decided to say or goodbyes for the night. It surprised me when Lestrade gave Sherlock a quick hug and left immediately afterword without word to anyone else. The thing, or person, that surprised me most was when Molly gave Sherlock a quick hug before she departed and he actually returned it. Of course Mrs. Hudson gave him a giant hug and he returned that, but I had no idea why he would hug Molly. I shrugged it off as just a way to thank her for helping him, but it still bugged me. When everyone was gone, Sherlock looked at me.

"I see you didn't redecorate," he noticed pointing to the smiley face that still scarred the wall.

"Well, actually," I began, "I didn't live here," I said sitting down again.

He nodded because he obviously didn't understand why I wouldn't. Sentiment is still a puzzle to him, I thought, flicking the television on. He walked back to the bathroom to take a shower to see if the dye would come out of his hair. After half an hour of watching an extremely stupid soap opera, which always seemed to be on now, I walked back to the bathroom to see how Sherlock was coming with the dye. I knocked on the door and he immediately opened it. He was standing with his robe on and was rubbing furiously at his still red hair.

"It. Won't. Come. Out," he growled throwing the towel to the ground in frustration.

"Of course it won't," I answered stifling a laugh. "It's probably permanent." When I said that he got an odd gleam in his eyes and I knew what he was thinking. "No, I don't have a razor here. You're just going to have to live with it until it comes out."

He huffed and stomped out of the room, pushing past me so he could get to his room.

"I'm going to bed!" I called after him and I trotted down the hallway to my old bedroom.

The room smelled musty when I stepped in. It was just how I remembered it except with an extra layer of dust coating everything. After I threw on a pair of old pajamas I found in a drawer that weren't eaten by moths, I turned down the covers of my bed and got in. Nothing had ever felt so good. My body quickly relaxed and I fell asleep. For once in the past three years, my dreams weren't haunted with Sherlock jumping, but instead it was when we first met.

So that's it for now! I'll try to get the next chapter up by maybe next Friday... And now for a little self advertising! So I just had another story come out and I would absolutely looovve some feedback on it! The story is, The Making of a Machine. As always comments are welcome, don't forget to check out my new story!