Alright everybody this is the final chapter. "If you think you have fun reading them, that's how much fun I have writing them." (thank you Benedict for that quote) Anyway thanks to everyone who made this story Count(again sorry about the pun) Enjoy!

Lestrad walks over to the door, and opens it up. "Here is your pizza sir." The pizza guy hands Lestrade the box. His eyes are filled with sadness, as he examines it's contents, catching sight of two familiar letters SH.

What kind of a sick joke is this? Lestrade shouts. Sherlock smirks playfully, and takes off the uniform. "Oi, you bastard! Lestrade exclaimed."

The Di marches over to Sherlock, and gives him a big friendly hug.


Molly was in her pajamas, waiting for her boyfriend to come home. Perhaps one day, she would go with him, on cases. Molly continued to think quietly to herself, about their future... She didn't want to admit it, but she felt scared for him. Even though he had been gone, only for a few hour's. She was beginning to feel insecure, sitting all alone in her flat, wondering if he was going to leave her again. Molly new it was late, so it was no surprise when she glanced at the clock.

A jolt of electricity, coursed through her body, as the doorknob slowly turned. Soon revealing a battered detective, standing in the doorway. "Sherlock what happened to you?" Molly exclaimed.

"Well my back is stinging, and my lip feels numb," The detective says, matter-of-factly.

"Sherlock your stitches!" Molly couldn't believe she forgot to check his stitches before he left. She quickly walks over to Sherlock, and takes off his coat and shirt. Molly's fears are confirmed, as she lays eyes on his torn, and mangled stitches.

"Sherlock how did this happen?" Molly could see the answer, written in his hurt filled eyes, and gently slides her arms up his shoulders. "John did this didn't he?"

Sherlock nodded his head.

Molly takes out a few tools from her medicine cabinet, and gently fixes the torn stitches, and split lip. "Did you eat anything while you were out?" Molly asks, dressing his back in fresh gauze.

"I ate at Lestrad's," Sherlock replied, putting his shirt back on. The detective let out a big yawn. I'm going to take a bath Molly.

"All right, just be careful not to get your back wet," Molly warned, putting away the supplies.

The warm water, felt so good on his skin. He hadn't taken a bath since before he was captured. Sherlock wished he could lie down, but he remembered Molly's warning, not to get his back wet.

After Sherlock washed up, he dried off, brushed his teeth, and slipped into his pajamas. The hallway was dark, so He walked carefully, so he didn't trip on anything that might be lurking in the shadows.

When he made it to Mollys room, the detective was surprised, to find her sprawled out on the bed. Ever since he's been back, Molly's acted differently towards him. What happened to the shy, insecure pathologist he once knew?

Sherlock ignored the uncomfortable feeling beginning to set in. "I thought you were asleep?" the detective asked, hoping to find some answers.

"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to wait for you," Molly replied, gently tapping the empty space next to her.

The two of them pulled back the covers, and climbed into bed...

Molly felt his warm body, resting against hers, as she nestled deeper into his arms. Sherlock smiled, and tenderly stroked Molly's hair, closing his eyes, as he slowly drifted off, lulled by the sound of her breathing. The uncomfortable feeling was gone.

Later the next morning...

"Molly, would you like to?..."

"Have dinner?" Molly replied, anxiously.

"Solve crimes?..." Sherlock answered, with a confused look.

For the rest of the day, Molly took the place of John. Taking notes, examining bodies etc.

Towards the end of the day, after they finished work, Sherlock leans in and gently plants a kiss on her lips. "Thank you Molly Hooper. The detectives looks her in the eye, and smiles. "Will you meet me at my flat, around let's say 8:00?"

"All right," Molly says, trying not to let the excitement show. The detective pulls his coat collar up, and disappears down the streets of London.

...

How dare he not tell me he was alive! How could he let me grieve over him?

The army doctors thoughts were interuped, by a sudden sharp sting in his neck, causing his vision to blure, as he was lowered onto the pavement.


John is awoken by the rustic smell of brandy, permeating through the darkness. He tries to wriggle free, but the ropes tied to his hands and feet, burn his flesh the more he moves. He was a soldier, he had been captured by enemies before. John pushed away the overpowering feeling of pain and fear, and clenched his fists, readying himself for a battle.

"Hello doctor Watson, I hope you haven't been too uncomfortable." The lights turn on, as a strange figure, descends down a mother of pearl spiral staircase.

John squints from the sudden brightness, and leans his head back, wincing from his sore neck.

"Sorry about that, my men tend to be a little rough when following orders." John could see the man had a short beard, blond hair, porcelain white skin, and dead eyes, that stared at him through the specticles resting on his sparrow-like nose.

"What do you want with me?" John yelled.

The figure calmly walked over to the desk in the corner, and sat down. "I need you to answer some questions... Don't worry, no harm will come to you, I'm not a villain, just a business man."

"Does Sherlock care about you?"

"Do you mean as a friend, or what?" John growled, tired of being a prisoner.

"As a friend," the slender man replied. "What are some things, Sherlock cares about the most?"

John exhales dramatically.

The slender man, looked closely at the doctors body language, as John told him, only the bare minimum of his knowledge. "Thank you doctor Watson for your time. Cesaris, we need to try something different." The slender man gives a quick hand gesture, to one of his henchmen, and then leaves through a marble tiled elevator.

A sudden spray of mist, renderes John partly unconscious. Hearing the cold sound of his kidnappers feet hitting the floor, and feeling his body being transported to another location, was the last thing he sensed, before completely blacking out.


"John... John, wake up."

The doctors eyes slowly opened, and soon caught sight of the cramped space he occupied. The smell of rotting wood, and garbage, only enhanced the feeling of claustrophobia that began to set in.

"I need to get out of here," John mumbled to himself, rubbing his wrists and ankles.

"Perhaps I can be of assistance John?"

Watson turned around in horror, as he laid eyes on a skinny, dark haired detective, beside him. "No, you're not really here, you're just a figment of my imagination," John scoffed.

"That's right John, I'm not really here, I'm just your brains way of coping with the trauma you've endured. Neat right?"

"What trauma?" John asked, his voice sounding flustered.

The figment of Sherlock, pointed to John's nasty head-wound. The doctor moved his hand, up to the spot Sherlock was pointing to, and felt a warm liquid seep in-between his fingers.

"Oh, this is just brilliant! Why of all people did I want you, why not my other friends?" John scoffed.

"O please, your other friends couldn't get you out of a locked car, much less dig you out of this place," Sherlock stated. His voice grew deeper. Now there is a reason i'm here... subconsciously, you know i'm the only one who can get you out."

"Well go on then, get me out of here!" John baited.

Sherlock closed his eyes, and placed his hands under his chin, in a praying position.

"How's your mind palace going to help?" John sputtered.

"I have many blueprints of architectural structures, I've stored over the years. All of them have a weak spot, we just need to find out where."

"No, that wont work, too risky... that beam could squash you." Sherlock talked out-loud to himself for the next few minutes, trying to find a solution.

"John I know what you should do."

The army doctor perked up all of a sudden. "What?"

"Do nothing. This structure is a very unstable, complex framework, of interconnected wood and metal. Any movement to the support beams, could collapse it's entire anatomy, burying you alive. Unless someone takes it down from the outside, it's best to just wait it out."

"Wait it out are you insane?... Well I for one have had enough wait-"

"Shhh.. someone's outside"

"Where are you going? John asked."

"Don't worry i'll be back." Before John could say another word, Sherlock disappeared, into thin air.


Save Souls now!

John or James Watson?

Saint or Sinner?

James or John?

The more is Less?

...

"Mary what's wrong?"

"This." Mary walked over to Sherlock and handed him her cellphone. "At first I thought it was just a bible thing, spam, but it's not, it's skip-code."

"First word, then every third, save... John... Watson"

"St. James the Less it's a church. Twenty minutes by car."

Sherlock hurried Mary into the street, and held out his hand, stopping an oncoming motorcycle...

"Hold on John... hold on." Sherlock and Mary raced to the church.

...

"What took you so long?" John yelled. "You've been gone over six minutes."

"I went to take a look outside. John I have some bad news, apparently there's a group of people outside, who are going to have a bonfire party in a few minutes, and you're-"

"I'm the wood," John finished.

"I'm afraid so, but don't worry, I'm coming to rescue you. Well the other me is anyway."

"How do you know?" John asks, furrowing his brow.

"I don't know anything, you do, remember? I'm just a figment of your imagination."

"John you must listen to me, any moment now, their going to light this whole place on fire. There's going to be allot of smoke, and it's going to get unbearably hot, but whatever you do, you must not panic."

"John, promise me that no matter happens, you won't panic."

The army doctor stares Sherlock in the eye. "I promise."

Sherlock's voice grows softer. "I will stay with you, and help you through the ordeal." The detective places his hand on John's shoulder, and smiles reassuringly.

John felt better, having Sherlock near him. The doctor looks him in the eye, and knitts his brow, exhaling in confirmation.

Teenagers shouting-

"Sherlock I can't breath, the flames are getting closer!"

Seeing the terrified look on his friends face, Sherlock slides his hand into the quivering army doctors, and gives it a soft squeeze.

The fear in Johns eyes, tugged at the detectives heart. "Hold on John, hold on!"

...

"John!"

"John!"

Sherlock and Mary make their way through the crowd of people, frantically calling John's name. They dig, and dig, through the scraps of debris, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of the army doctor.

The searing heat, bites at sherlock's skin, with each passing moment. But the detective ignores it, focusing on one thing, rescuing John.

...

A look of relief soon washes over them, as they finally catch a glimpse of the army doctor. The two of them pull him out of the burning ruble, and carry him to safety.

"John can you hear me?... John!" Sherlock moves his hand up to Johns neck, and breathes a sigh of relief, when he feels the weak, but steady pulse, of the army doctors.

John soon openes his eyes, and abruptly sits up, coughing from the residual smoke in his lungs. "Oh, John your alive!" Mary gives John a big hug, and kisses him, letting a few tears flow down her cheeks.

"John who did this to you?" Sherlock asks, his voice shaky.

"I- don't remember anything, other than being transported here," John mumbled.

"Sherlock he's burning up!" Mary said, feeling his forehead.

"Yes I noticed, we should get him checked out a Bart's."

She nods, and helps John to his feet. As they head towards a cab, the army doctor looks back, and sees someone familier, standing near the pile of burning debris. The Sherlock figure waves, and smiles warmly at John, before dissapearing from sight.

John waves back...

"Who are you waving at John?" Mary asks, a little concerned with his mental state.

Just a friend, John says smirking.

Mary walks with John over to a cab, with a confused look on her face. When suddenly, the army doctor faints in her arms.

The detective frantically runs over, and helps Mary, get John into the cab. "To Bart's and step on it!"

...

Sherlock texts Molly on the way to Bart's.

Molly somethings happened to John. Meet me at Barts, in room 207, and wear something nice- SH

Molly soon arrives outside room 207. Sherlock's expression is one of wonderment, as he marvels at her emerald-green evening dress, which flawlessly conformed to her figure. Her hair was draped around, the side of her neck, and beautifully hung off of one shoulder, and the subtle shading of her makeup, framed her face perfectly, accentuating her coffee brown eyes, as they glistened in the dim lighting of the hospital room.

Molly soon laid eyes on two food trays, in front of her, with candles beside them. "Sherlock did you do all this?"

Not sure if her expression was one of enjoyment, he motioned for her to sit down beside him. "I know it's not a fancy restaurant, and hospital food leaves much to be desired-"

"I love it!"

"You do?" Sherlock replies, with a puzzled look.

"Are you kidding, a candle light dinner for two, Sherlock it's perfect, thank you." Molly and Sherlock both lean in towards each-other and kiss...

A few moments later...

"So what happened to John?" Molly asked, eyeing the figure, lying on the bed across from them.

"Someone with an ulterior motive against me, or John kidnapped him," Sherlock says dryly.

"Did they tie him up?" Sherlock knitted his brow in concern at her comment, and walked with Molly over to John's bedside, to examine him.

"So he was taken somewhere else?" Sherlock muttered, seeing the chafing around his wrists. "You don't suppose-" Molly and Sherlock both looked at each-other, and slowly pulled back the covers exposing Johns chaffed ankles.

"Both his hand and feet were tied to something, most likely a chair." Molly sensed he wanted to be alone for awhile, so she walks over to one of the chairs, and sits down.

...

The detective places his hand on the army doctors shoulder, "John what did they do to you?... I will find out who did this, I promise." Sherlock stands up, wiping away a few stray tears that managed to escape, and turns towards Molly. "Well, we can't let all this food go to waste can we?" Sherlock says, nervously sitting down next to a worried pathologist.

Without warning, Molly suddenly leans in towards the detective, and kisses him passionately... Sherlock leans in, and deepens the kiss, his hands gently cupping the sides of her face. Molly soon pulls away to speak."We should eat now, you went though allot of trouble, preparing this lovely meal."

"Why eat dinner, when you can have desert?" Sherlock replies, playfully kissing on her neck, causing Molly to giggle.

"Sherlock I'm serious, you can have dessert after you eat dinner." The detective exhales slowly, and nods.

...

After Sherlock and Molly finished eating, the two of them began to feel sleepy, and soon, fall asleep on each others shoulders...


A small patch of sunlight breaks through a cloud, brightening the hospital room. John opens his eyes from sudden brightness, and sees Sherlock's hands clasped in the usual position, with Molly laying on him. "Good morning sleepyhead, how are you feeling?" Sherlock asks.

"A little smoked," John replies, causing both of them to smirk.

"So you're going out with Molly now?"

"Yes," sherlock replied.

Beeep. The detective reached into his pocket, and took out his phone. "It's a message from Mycroft."

"What does he want?"

"Not here John, hospitals are full of hidden cameras, we need to discuss this somewhere private."

...

Molly wakes up, with her arms rapped around Sherlocks neck...

"Sorry, did we wake you?"

"It's fine, I have to go to work anyway." Molly stretches her arms, and walks out the hospital door. "See you later Sherlock."

...

After john is released from the hospital, they both visit the underground tube system, and examine one of the cars, rumored to hold a bomb. After they discover it, Sherlock plays a joke on John, by pretending he doesn't know how to deactivate the bomb. This causes the army doctor, to reminisce on his old memories of the fall. John is snapped out of it by the sound of Sherlock's loud laughter, and hears police behind him, coming to properly deactivate the bomb.

...

"Why did they try to kill me? If they knew you were on to them, why go after me?.. put me in the bonfire?"

"I don't know. I don't like not knowing. Sherlock ties a scarf around his neck. Unlike the nicely embellished fictions on your blog, real life is rarely so neat." Sherlock stops at the bottom of the stairs to put on his coat.

"Don't pretend you're not enjoying this."

Sherlock hums, with his back turned away from John.

"Being back. Being a hero again. You'd have to be an idiot not to see it. You love it."

Sherlock turns to face him. "Love what?"

"Being Sherlock Holmes, John finished."

"I don't even know what thats supposed to mean." Sherlock turns and walks down the hall, putting on his gloves.

"Sherlock, you are gonna tell me how you did it? How you jumped off that building and survived?"

The detective stops for a moment and then answers."You know my methods John, I'm known to be indestructible."

"No, but seriously. when you were dead, I went to your grave."

"I should hope so."

"I made a little speech. I actually spoke to you."

Sherlock turns to face him. "I know I was there."

"I asked you for one more miracle. I asked you to stop being dead."

"I heard you," Sherlock says softly.

The detective fights back the emotion, and draws in a sharp breath. "Anyway, time to go and be Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock smiles and heads towards the door, hesitating for a moment before reaching over to the coat rack, to grab his deer stalker of a peg. The detective places it onto his head, tugging it into position.

"Are you ready?" John asks, looking at Sherlock.

Sherlock nods his head, and the two of them walk out the door together, to meet the reporters, as they gather around them.

"Sherlock are you going to continue working with the police, even after the events concerning Richard Brook (aka) Jim Moriarty?"

"Yes, you'll just have to wait till our next adventure, to find out exactly what that entales."

Sherlock smirks smugly, and gets into a cab.

I hope you enjoyed this Story. If you did feel free to review:)