A/N: Hey, sorry it's been a while since I updated this! I haven't seen the next episode of Sherlock yet so I'm sorry if I get this whole 'revealing of Sherlock' thing wrong! Anyways, thanks for reading and enjoy! (Pssst! please don't give me spoilers either!)

"Hello Molly," John said with a kind smile, showing her into his apartment, which was still 221 B on Baker Street. Molly nervously smiled back and walked through the doorway, clutching her purse anxiously; today-this moment actually-was when Sherlock was determined to reveal himself to everyone in London, John first and foremost. They made their way upstairs and into the sitting room.

"Are you well?" John asked, "You said this was urgent?"

"Um, yes I'm well, thank you. To get right to it, I wanted to ask you not to...hate me for this…" she sighed inwardly. John's brow furrowed. "Hate you? Why would I-"

"He made me swear not to tell you, you see, and I didn't expect him to come back so soon! Just...don't hold me in any lower regard." Molly interrupted, hearing Sherlock walking up the stairs quietly.

"Molly I don't...who? I don't think I understand." John continued, squinting his eyes and tilting his head. The topmost step creaked and the two of them, one in wonder and the other in pensive silence, turned to greet the tall and dark visitor.

Sherlock, instead of narrowing his eyes in his usual manner, looked at John with brightness in his dark-rimmed blue eyes. John's jaw fell and he began to stumble backwards.

"Hello, John." his deep voice made Molly's heart pound.

"Sher.."John's voice came in a whisper. He swallowed hard and kept his gaze focused on the detective. "Sherlock…" His voice cracked involuntarily.

John hesitantly stepped forward, making his way to Sherlock. He poked the detective's stomach gingerly.

"Bloody hell, you're real…" his voice wavered again.

Molly knew how hard it must have been for John to suddenly see Sherlock but it made her smile in spite of herself.

Sherlock remained silent, looking very content and a little relieved, narrowing his eyes at Molly when he thought she wasn't looking.

Sherlock stood, gazing out the window of the flat in the sitting room just as he used to to just two years before. John was still in shock and Molly was in the kitchen trying to calm a very spooked Mrs. Hudson.

After another long moment of silence, Sherlock turned and faced John.

"I'm sorry John. I'm sorry for all the pain I might have-"

"Might have?" John laughed bitterly, turning towards the detective. "No, Sherlock. You have caused pain! You have...had destroyed me and Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson and Molly-or at least I thought-when you jumped off that bloody hospital!"

Sherlock closed his mouth and watched John pace in his anger; he fidgeted where he stood but held the doctor's angry gaze.

"Do you understand how much it hurt to watch you," John began shaking his head, "...watch you...jump? To watch you land on the pavement? To bury you?"

Molly and Mrs. Hudson walked into the sitting room.

"I do, John." Sherlock said.

"Do you really?!" John shouted, grabbing the skull off the mantlepiece. "I don't think you fucking understand!" he threw the skull at Sherlock who dodged just in time.

"John, stop!" Sherlock protested, running towards the doctor. Just as he did, John lunged for him and punched him in the jaw. Sherlock took a step back in astonishment and promptly rolled his eyes.

"Oh dear!" Mrs. Hudson waved her arms about in worry.

"Oh for goodness' sake!" Molly cried out. "Stop it! Sherlock only did what he had to, John!"

The room was silent for a moment, the air heavy with the anticipation of the drama that was sure to come.

"...Why?" John breathed. "Why, Sherlock?"

"I...I had help from Molly-"

"I don't care how you did it, Sherlock," John interrupted. "I just want to know why?"

Sherlock looked around, searching for the right words.

"Because if I didn't, you, Molly, Lestrade, and Mrs. Hudson would...have died. Moriarty had men stationed around all of you to make sure that I jumped off that rooftop. He wanted it to end in blood and he didn't care if his was mixed in as well; he only wanted me dead for certain. The game was over." Sherlock explained, walking around the room, unable to make eye contact with John.

"Why did you try to convince me that you were a fake?" John asked quietly.

"I couldn't have you looking for me. I had to distinguish every possibility for the hope that I might still be alive."

Silence again.

"I didn't want to ruin your life-"

"So you decided to show yourself to Molly but not me." John interrupted coldly, turning to Molly. "And you didn't think to tell me? You didn't think that maybe I would have-"

"Stop it, John!" Sherlock rose his voice. "Don't blame Molly. None of this is her fault."

John closed his eyes and shook his head. "Why…" he took a deep breath. "Why now?"

"Because he's still alive." Sherlock answered calmly but sternly. Molly's heart sank; nothing was going the way it was supposed to-but with Sherlock and John, what else was to be expected?

John let out a sigh and without a word embraced Sherlock who just as quietly let him.

Molly heaved an inward sigh of relief.

"Ohh...Well...I'd better put the kettle on…" Mrs. Hudson said distantly, walking off towards the kitchen.

Molly and John brought the few things Sherlock had brought into the flat and John paid for a cab to take her home after he'd apologized for his earlier conduct. Molly, for the first part of the drive home, thought deeply on Sherlock; his mannerisms, his new brightened smile...his attractiveness…

All this went through her mind before another face appeared. But why should she think of Moriarty? He was handsome to be sure, he was deviously clever but he was a killer, a murderer who did not deserve her fancy of attention-but like in almost all other things, he would get what he wanted.

For the latter part of the drive, she sat, staring out the window, and thought angry thoughts of the madman of her dreams.

One week later and Sherlock had of course found a murder case and of course it was interesting and of course John, Sherlock, and Molly knew who'd committed the crime. Lestrade was over the shock of Sherlock's miraculous return and Sherlock was somehow bestowed with permission from the commissioner to help as a consulting detective once again; Molly didn't quite know how he managed it.

So there she stood, another two weeks gone by, inspecting the latest body from the latest case of the latest wild goose chase that Moriarty had decided the throw their way. Molly was beginning to wonder when the villain would show his face. He'd been around so much, Molly was reluctant to say that she'd almost grown used to his presence.

Her mobile vibrated on the counter. She sighed and took off her bloodied gloves to pick up the phone and look at the text message she'd just received.

I know.-SH

Molly stared at the message, confused.

Know what?-Hooper

Five or six seconds later, the mobile buzzed again.

Your feelings for Moriarty.-SH

Molly froze.

It's simple chemistry. But he's only using you.-SH

How could Sherlock know if she didn't know herself?

Be careful.-SH

She was touched that he'd thought it necessary to warn her but she still didn't see any danger in her affection for Moriarty. She knew it was wrong but she couldn't help it; she was still, however, determined to refuse him for as long as she possibly could.

Thank you, Sherlock.-Hooper

'Maybe I'll move to the country...get away from everything...' Molly thought to herself for the thousandth time in her life but she knew she'd never do it; she was too attached to Sherlock to ever leave. Pining after him was all she had left.

She walked into her flat, weary. Kicking off her shoes and dropping her purse beside them, she wobbled her way to the sofa and laid down, closing her eyes.

She then abruptly opened them again when she felt something warm against her. She turned her head to see Moriarty laying next to her on the big sofa with an amused smiled.

"Helloooo~" he practically sang. "How much did you miss me?"

Molly jumped up but hardly had any time to react as someone set a hand on her shoulder and stuck a needle in her neck.