So I figured out that if you write with a high fever all you will produce is gibberish mixed with unaccented Spanish and Italian. Obviously this chapter underwent major editing once I was feeling better so that everyone could actually understand it. Thank you everyone who has reviewed! I'm grateful for you all! So cookies and pixie dust for all of you!

Molly felt the gun pressed up against her back. She forced her hands to tremble, knowing Moriarty never saw through her persona. It was so oddly true how similar he and Sherlock were. They were both incredibly brilliant but saw poor little Molly Hooper as something to be used and nothing more. When she dated him, knowing that he was gay and only wanted to get to Sherlock, she never let herself slip, while constantly researching him until she came to the conclusion that he was the Consulting Criminal before Sherlock did. But now, he was back, and that odd calm rushed over her as she looked down at the table, clutching the edge as if to keep from shaking. Actually no, she was shaking, it took very much effort not to turn around rip the gun from his hands and blow his brains out. It would be so easy, but she knew she couldn't. Not yet. First off, Mycroft and her other employers had warned her against it, and secondly, she had to be sure about him and who he was.

"I got acquitted, darling, isn't that wonderful news?"

"W-what d-d-do you want from me?"

"Sherlock will ask you for help, darling." Her blood ran cold.

"But why—"

"Oh I don't want you to refuse if that's what you're asking. Go ahead and help him like the bleeding heart you are, Molly dear, there's no fuss about that. But you're going to have to help me as well…."

"W-why should I?"

"Because if you don't, I'll kill you darling, I'll have Sebby gut you like a little fish."

She didn't smile, although she really felt like doing so. Moriarty didn't know about Anna yet. THAT was hysterical. The silly man was so totally Sherlock's equal and opposite, so the other side of the coin, he didn't bother to check Molly for anything suspicious. This was foolhardy. At least in knowing that she wasn't a genius, she was thorough in every endeavor she ever attempted. This was why she knew about Robert's lover Jane, or about who actually employed the pair other than Mycroft.

"W-what d-do you—"

"Darling, please stop stuttering, what I want you to do is accept his help, do whatever he says, and make sure everything goes according to plan."

Slowly, Molly nodded, and suddenly he was gone. Knowing he was still watching, she slowly sank to her knees and covered her face, barely able to stifle the laughs and turn them into sobs. A few minutes later, she stood up, straightened her coat, and went back to work, although she determined that Moriarty would soon learn of Anna's existence, especially if Molly was being followed. She took out a burn phone, and called, even though she knew Anna was in the middle of class, she would hear her own secondary phone go off.

"Anna, darling, step out of class for a moment."

The instructions were simple. Go to a certain flat in Hoxton, and tell the man and woman there that she was Molly Hooper's daughter. If the man is not there, wait outside until he arrives. Once he does, ask him a riddle. Even though Anna's memory was good, she made her repeat it three times before being fully satisfied. If the man knew the answer, go on inside. If not, run very fast, very far, and go to, dare she say it 221B Baker's street. That was only a last resort though. Anna was confused, but after telling her Molly's name, her real name, not any of the ones she conjured up before, she was trustworthy. She then had Anna dump the burn phone she was calling on, and her own before Mycroft could get that snippet.


They were about to go investigate the kidnapping, when Sherlock heard a sharp and hurried knock at the door. John opened it, and the pair unexpectedly found Anna Pyne on their doorstep. Her coat was wrapped about her tightly, over clothing she had obviously hurried into after taking off her school uniform. She also seemed to have been running for a great deal of time, judging from the sweat to her slightly breathless words.

"Mom told me to go here." She stated simply, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks, "Something bad's happening, I can tell." Anna rushed in before John or Sherlock could say anything, curling up in a ball on the sofa, "She said she wouldn't leave me, but she called me in school and—and I don't know what's going on!"

John knelt down in front of her, no doubt in an awkward attempt to calm the child, putting a hand on her shoulder, "Your Mum? Molly told you to come here?"

"Yes—she said to go to her friend's place first—but I went and I couldn't stay, she said to go here if—that didn't work." Obviously she was hiding something, but Sherlock's mind was buzzing too much with activity to really care.

"Mrs. Hudson!" He called out.

Moments later she arrived, spotting the frightened little girl, "Oh dear—"

"Watch her while we're gone." Sherlock was already out the door when he said this, John trailing closely behind.

As soon as they slipped into the cab, John asked the question Sherlock knew he had on his mind, "What on earth—"

"Molly must have panicked with Moriarty around."

"Oh…."


She offered her help, just like Moriarty said to, but somewhere she really didn't expect Sherlock to actually show up and practically beg for it. Molly sighed, "What do you need?"

"You need to help me fake my death."

Resisting the urge to smile, Molly nodded. This was easy. In fact, she had the job half done for him, with all the proper documents ready for three alternate identities, one even having red hair. It was a safety precaution, maybe a little far for protecting him, but if he was dead, she would have never had a chance to get Anna. Even with Anna back, she did want to help him still, even if it was playing one of Moriarty's games. In the end, if Sherlock's alive, she did her job.

She let him lay out the plans, subtly correcting them when needed and his back was turned. There was no reason to reveal her expertise on the matter, after all, not yet. Once that was out, she feared he would never trust her again. It was easy being little trustworthy Molly after all. Apparently she counted as well, which came to be a bit of a surprise. Molly never really thought of him as devoid of emotion, but Molly Hooper was specifically designed not to count. Later, she would have to examine how that went wrong.

"I'm sorry."

"For what, Sherlock?" There seemed to be loads of surprising things he's been doing as of late.

"This will endanger you, and your—"

"We can handle this, Sherlock." Molly let her gaze harden as she met his, "Now, I think you have a show to attend."


Anna found it odd that the contractor working on Mrs. Hudson's flat wouldn't take the money until afterwards. Even though her mother had warned her to be careful, she couldn't help but poke about everywhere he went within the area. She was careful not to disturb him, to act like the little shadow until she saw it. The case was longer than frankly necessary for someone's wallpaper tools, but not long enough to contain the poles that were often used. It was also locked. She worked quickly to remedy that, and when she opened it, she found a rifle and tripod. She wasn't as familiar with guns as her mother, but she knew it was something for a sniper to use.

"Little girls shouldn't go through people's stuff."

Slowly, Anna turned, and faced the man, her hands clasped behind her back, "You're going to die, you know."

"What?"

He didn't perceive her as a threat, not taking the gun that he had hidden in the small of his back out. Slowly, Anna grew more confident, "If you kill Mrs. Hudson, you're going to die. You work for that Moriarty dude right? This is supposed to be a straightforward job, but it's not. If you walk away, you won't die."

"If i walk away, I won't get paid." He returned gruffly, "Look kid I don't know how you know this, but I don't want to kill you-."

"If you killed me, you would die slowly and painfully without any hope for escape."

"Sherlock Holmes doesn't kill."

"But the Reaper does."

At that, the sniper masquerading as a contractor nodded, a small smile gracing his lips, "She's back eh?"

"Yes."

"Then my employer is done for."

"Most likely." Anna gave a small shrug.

"Last time I saw you, you were a wee little baby, yah know?" Unexpectedly he approached her and put a hand on her shoulder "You're a smart little lass, just like your mum...just don't think that you have to be just like her-"

"I'm going to be a detective." Anna crossed her arms jutting her jaw out proudly "Now either finish the wallpaper, which you're horrible at by the way, or get out of here."

The sniper chuckled, ruffling her hair, "Fine, you've won."

It was only after he left that Anna realized how horribly that could have gone, and elected to leave out a few details when relaying this information to her mother.


"Mommy, can I poke his cheek?"

"No, darling, he's going to be awake any time now."

"But he looks funny!"

"The sedatives made his face relax. It's nothing. Now shoo!"

Sherlock awoke to their voices, his head pounding, and when he briefly opened his eyes, the room spun around him, and he briefly hallucinated, seeing the ponytail of the mysterious woman who shot the serial killer Greg Kennedy. He kept them closed for a while longer, and then the next time he opened them, a pair of large electric blue eyes were staring at him, "Mom! He's awake!"

Molly appeared, twisting her ponytail around her finger, "Welcome to the land of the living dead, Sherlock. The drugs will wear off soon enough. You are incredibly bruised, but other than that, no injuries. We're at my flat right now, the one I moved into when Anna came. You be safe for the time being."

"John—"

"John is extremely heartbroken but very much alive. So it worked."

"Moriarty is—"

"He's not dead."

Molly's voice was surprisingly hard, her hands clasped together, but she didn't seem scared, "What?"

"His body wasn't found. I found signs he used a blank. He's probably injured." She rattled this off, almost bored, acting like a completely different person in fact. This Molly was completely cold, clinical, unfeeling, like the events of the day hadn't quite reached her yet. "I'm also pretty sure he knows you're alive as well, I mean it wouldn't surprise me at all."

Sherlock's mind was racing ahead to what must be done. Of course Moriarty was still alive, he probably planned as far ahead as Sherlock did, leaving the uncomfortable truth that Moriarty would probably know where to look. He sat up groggily, rubbing his head, wondering how long it would be safe to remain. It probably already wasn't safe. Yet Molly and Anna were so relaxed, and he watched as Anna read a book, looking completely calm aside from slightly trembling fingers. All occupants of the bedroom (obviously Molly's) heard the door open and slam.

"Wait here." She snapped at Anna before the girl had risen all the way, and she went out into the living room.

Anna slowly crept up to Sherlock, "She's going to keep you safe." She promised, patting his hand.

Sherlock cocked his head at her, seeing Anna's obvious pride in her mother, "Molly?"

Anna frowned and looked away, "I hear no guns. She's talking to someone."

"Obviously."


Robert was trembling with anger and rage, his pistol pointed directly at Molly, but his voice was deathly calm, "I get a call from intensive care, that Jane had been shot, and if it weren't for a child calling it in, she would be dead, what, what am I supposed to think of that?"

"You should think yourself lucky that I sent Anna there."

"Molly, this is no time for games she was—"

"Almost killed. I'm aware. I didn't know, honestly, I wouldn't have sent Anna if I knew someone was targeting Jane. I would have protected her, I swear. Hadn't I been doing that?"

"Don't you think you're starting to spread your protection a little thin? The Holmes brothers, me, Jane, your daughter, your old life…how do I know you won't just snap?"

"Because you know me, and you know very well I won't." Molly walked across the room slowly, and gently set her hand atop his, putting the gun down, "Will Jane be all right?" She found herself asking at last.

Robert nodded slowly, clearing his throat, and looking away as tears spilled, "Nothing too vital was hit, and Anna kept the blood loss down until the paramedics arrived. Good kid, just like her Mum." He then proceeded to give Molly a small and awkward hug, "I'm sorry I didn't know what I'd accomplish—"

"You needed someone to talk to." Molly shrugged, "I'll search leads. Keep in touch, but don't come here again. Do you understand?"

He smirked, pulling away from her, and tucking the gun in the small of his back beneath his shirt and jumper, "I really think I should do something legitimate after this. A nice retirement in Tuscany or California would suit my fancy. It would be Jane's choice, of course."

"So you told her?"

He chuckled, "She threw a frying pan at me. Good luck, little nobody." With that he walked through the door, "I'll only be in town for a couple weeks, but I'll make sure you can find me. Don't abuse that, or I will put a bullet in your head."

Molly sighed, and returned to the other room, "Just a friend, sorry about my loss." She slid down the closed door, exhaustion finally beginning to kick in. Sherlock eyed her, but said nothing, "Anna, I'm going to go check up on John. He won't want it, but that's to be expected." She stood up and promptly left.


"Mom told me not to let you use the laptop." Anna told Sherlock matter-of-factly as she slammed the pink computer shut and took it away, "She said your searches would raise flags."

"Your mother's smart but I'm—"

"Bored. She said to use this one instead." She went over to the closet, and pulled out a dark gray laptop, the sort that could be bolted shut, and gave it to him, "The pass is 2231. Password; Don't Fear The REAPER. Use the apostrophe, capitalize the first letter of each except reaper, which is in all caps."

"Where'd Molly get this? Mycroft?"

"She had it for a long time. It was here when I got here."

"Your mother's constantly surprising me."

"She should, she's your angel."

Sherlock didn't ponder for long what that could possibly have meant as he had work to do, researching Moriarty and his network freely on Molly's surprisingly secure computer, with Anna peeking over his shoulder until she fell asleep. Molly wasn't back for a long time, and when she did, he could hear her taking the sofa. Every couple hours, she would pop in silently to check up on him, always about to say something, but deciding at the last moment that it was better not to.

Oh I'm also very pleased that today Once Upon a Time and Revenge are coming back! Sundays will not be dull for a while!