It's almost pitifully easy. According to Sherlock's notes, Moran and Adair gamble several times a week. Sherlock has to have been watching them for a while because he has details on where they'll be and who they'll be playing with, as well as what he thinks their favourite cheats are. That's all information John is willing to accept as true, because this is Sherlock and he doesn't miss things when it's important, not when it's what's standing between him and the ability to come home. Over the next couple of days, John stays with Sherlock while Greg puts in a handful of carefully schedule appearances around the flat where Adair is rumoured to be staying. Once or twice he runs into the man, even gets the chance to talk to Adair about a made-up crime in the neighbourhood, and John has to congratulate Greg for his patience in not shooting Adair on sight because John's not sure he'd be able to keep himself from doing it.

Greg is certain that Moran's seen them together, so tonight the last part of Moriarty's web won't know what hit them. Greg's scouted out the building where Adair and Moran are supposed to be gambling and, based on the information he's brought back, John is ready to go in. He's taken a page out of Sherlock's book and got a little disguise together, though he wants to be recognized so he doesn't try very hard. He even cleans and polishes his gun, making sure that all the parts are in working order.

The hardest part turns out to be finding someone who can stay with Sherlock. In the end John texts Molly and asks her to come to the room. She already knows and if she's kept the secret for this long then he's fairly sure she's not going to tell anyone anytime soon. Molly seems to be surprised by the request but, like the sweet girl she is, she writes back to say that her shift has just ended and she'll be by as soon as she can. John and Greg work out the last few details of their plan while they're waiting for her to show up. Within fifteen minutes there's a knock on the door.

John gets up and checks to see who it is before he opens the door. Molly smiles at him tentatively but before John can say anything she catches sight of Sherlock over his shoulder. Her eyes go wide and her mouth drops open. She pushes past John and rushes over to the bed, looking down like she expects Sherlock to fade away at any moment. "He came back to you," she says in a dazed, disbelieving voice. "I can't believe it."

Instantly John finds himself forgiving Molly even though he didn't know that he still harboured anger or resentment towards her. She looks like she's going to cry and her hand is actually shaking as she reaches down and touches Sherlock's cheek, gently like. He stirs briefly before settling back down and John steps forward. "Let him sleep, Molly," he says kindly, ushering her into a chair. He recognizes the symptoms of mild shock when he sees them and Molly's just been thrown for a loop.

"Oh, thank you." Molly sinks down into the chair heavily and stares up at him. For the first time she seems to realize that he's disguised and her lips quirk into an uncertain smile. "I'm sorry, John. I wanted to tell you but he asked me not to, and he seemed… well, he seemed so certain that he would be putting you into terrible danger if you knew. He wanted to come home so badly." She bites her lip, like she thinks she's said too much, and asks, "Is it… is it over, then?"

"Nearly," says John reassuringly, patting her hand lightly. "Greg and I are going to take care of the rest of it tonight. I realize it's a lot to ask, Molly, but I need someone I can trust to stay with Sherlock and watch over him. He's sick. He's got an infection - "

"I'll do it," Molly says before John's even finished explaining. Her lovely brown eyes are filled with determination. "Just tell me what to do."

It says something about the world when a man like Sherlock Holmes can find good people who are so earth-shatteringly loyal to him. John smiles at her and she relaxes a bit. "Thank you. All you have to do is give him some antibiotics around eight. He'll probably sleep the rest of the time so that's alright."

"What do I do if… if someone comes to the door?" she says and her tone makes it clear she's not talking about housekeeping.

John's thought about that. "Hand me your phone," he says and she does. He adds a contact, a familiar number that somehow he knows by heart even though he hasn't dialled it for months. And then, for good measure, he makes sure that his number and Greg's are both correct as well. "If something goes wrong call this number first and then me and Greg," he tells her, handing the phone back. "It's Sherlock's brother."

Greg stiffens in surprise and John gives him a quick glance in reply that begs him not to ask, not in front of Molly, who in spite of her best efforts is already jittery enough. He grabs his gun and tucks it into his waistband, then moves over to the bed. Molly and Greg both look away but John doesn't really care: he's past the point where he cares about what people think about him and Sherlock. Now that he knows Sherlock is alive that's all that matters. He feels no hesitation in leaning down and brushing a kiss over his forehead. Pale, verdigris eyes flutter open and peer up at him and Sherlock reads the situation in a single glance.

"John…" he says softly, miserably, ashamed.

"Shh," John whispers. They're so close he can feel Sherlock's breath against his cheek every time the man exhales. He's not wholly sure what drives him to do it but he finds himself gently pressing their mouths together, a light touch of lip against lip that feels more right than anything else John has done in the past two years. Sherlock's eyes are enormous when he pulls away and John smiles crookedly. "Go back to sleep," he says lowly, "and when I come back we're going home."

Home. It's the promise that allows him to step away from Sherlock and walk towards the door. Greg joins him and they listen to the sound of Molly locking the door behind them before Greg asks, "Mycroft?"

"Adair will be with us," John reminds him. "He won't be a danger to Sherlock, not after tonight."

"Right." Greg lets out a slow breath and then nods. "You ready?"

"God yes," John says and means it.

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