Sherlock Holmes was reportedly found on the banks of the Thames with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the chest. The body was processed through Bart's Hospital, Molly Hooper conducting the autopsy. Scotland Yard found a note that had been written, saying he couldn't live without his wife, who had been murdered some weeks before. The reports said there were drugs in his system, enough for a fatal overdose even before he shot himself. There was a small service.

Sherlock Holmes rolled out of bed late in the morning, texting John that he would pick Rosie up from Mrs. Hudson once he had had something to eat. John texted back from his surgery, thanking him and reminding him that Chester needed to be walked and to pass the message on to Mrs. Hudson. Life continued like normal, except Sherlock would disguise himself whenever he went out. It was fun, becoming the butcher down the street or a tourist looking for a local eatery. He could wander into Scotland Yard as Anderson, or make his way to Downing Street as Mycroft, and no one would be any the wiser.

Alice was still working with Moran, who had stayed inside for a few days, watching the fallout of Sherlock's death. It had been on the news worldwide, and a large memorial service was being organized for the city, and the nation as a whole, to pay their respects. The government had made an official statement through Mycroft, who had written something up for the Prime Minister to say when addressing Parliament. She would visit Sherlock nearly every night, having dinner or watching a movie with him and Archie. John and Rosie would sometimes join them.

It was on one of these nights that Alice made it over just in time for Archie to go to bed. She bade him goodnight, going to sit with Sherlock, who had poured her a glass of wine and was busily working, looking something up on his laptop as she sat down. "I'm working on a case involving a stolen ring and a disappearing actor. 6 million Pounds on the line," he told her, not looking up from the maps that he was studying. John had wandered into the room, stopping by to say hello before heading back downstairs. He had just taken Chester out for a walk, and was dropping the dog off, since Sherlock couldn't leave the flat without a disguise.

When John's door had opened and closed again, Sherlock set his laptop aside. "Aren't you working?" Alice asked, looking away from the news programme that she had been watching.

The detective sighed, turning to her. "It's nearly solved, I just have to track down a step-brother in the Urals. No, I have a bigger problem."

"What is it?" She switched the television off, waiting for an answer.

"When are you coming home?"

"What do you mean?"

"When are you coming back to Baker Street? You've been gone for almost two months. John's moved back in downstairs, and hell, we've even got Archie. You're still gone, though. When are you coming back?"

"I honestly don't know. I mean, I could tell Moran that I'm getting my own flat. Or that I'm coming back here now that you've been bumped off, but he would want to bug the place. We've got to get rid of him. We could trap him here, but we would have to either get him arrested for something or kill him," she thought aloud. "Now everything we could arrest him for, I could be taken in on. That is, if I was still alive. But then if we kill him - Mycroft's given me permission to do it - well, we'd have to get him alone."

"Would you?"

"Would I kill him? I could," she nodded, Sherlock not replying. "I would do it, if I had the chance. I don't think it would be a problem."

The detective nodded, thinking for a moment. "Come here." She set her wineglass down, Sherlock pulling her into his arms. "I miss you." Alice was somewhat taken aback by this sudden display of emotion, but she shrugged it off. "Things aren't the same around here. It's not just everyone moving in. It's waking up and not seeing you there, and not having you working at the table across from me, and not making you dinner. Or making dinner with you. I don't see you at Scotland Yard, and I don't come home late at night to drop into bed beside you. Alice, I know we don't exactly have what could be called a 'normal' marriage, but I miss it."

"Me too," she said, holding onto him tightly. "I miss finding body parts in the kitchen, and trying to clear science experiments off of the table for dinner, even if I would give up and have dinner on the sofa half of the time. And I miss waking up next to you and being able to see you when I come home, even if it's late at night." She sighed, resolving, "I'm going to tell Moran that I'm moving out. I've gotten back on my feet, and now that the world thinks we're both dead, I can operate in the shadows. Something like that. Besides, he doesn't need me hanging out in the house all of the time."

Sherlock was thinking again, she could tell. He always had the same look when he was struggling with something. "Everything you said on the bridge," he began, "was any of it true? Do you regret your decisions?"

"No," Alice replied immediately, leaning forward to give him a kiss. "Of course I don't. You're… you saved my life, Sherlock. More times than I can count. You've given me so many adventures, and I'm incredibly thankful for you. I'd have probably been dead already if I hadn't met you. Seb and I were talking the other day, and we could only think of a few of the people we'd originally worked with who were still alive and out of jail. You've given me a real home and something to look forward to, instead of coming back to Chester and a quiet apartment."

"I don't bother you? WIth all of my… idiosyncrasies?"

"No. I mean, finding eyeballs in the microwave and blood all over the laundry room can get a bit annoying sometimes, but it's all part of you. And I love you, so I forgive you."

He switched subjects quickly, asking if she had been to Sherrinford lately. "I've been meaning to go visit my sister. Do you want to come along? You wouldn't have to talk to her. Mycroft's given you free access to the entire facility, so you can talk to whoever you want."

"I was there a few weeks ago interviewing Jamie, the cannibal. One of the cannibals, actually," she said, thinking back to her talk with the man. He'd said he wanted to skin me too. I was honored." Alice chuckled, adding, "I haven't seen Eurus lately, though. I'm sure she'd enjoy a visitor. When do you want to go?"

"Friday?"

"Friday," she agreed. "I'll move back in by then, and we can leave together, two people who are supposedly dead. That'll be fun. We don't exist, and we're going to an island that doesn't exist, to visit a woman who doesn't exist. I like it."

Moran was up when Alice got home. He stood, making his way to the kitchen door, which she had quietly opened and closed, creeping towards the stairs. "Hello there. Home a bit late, aren't we?"

"You sound like my father," she frowned, unbuttoning her coat.

"You never had a father."

"Well then," Alice scoffed, stepping up onto the stairs. "That's not very nice." She turned her back, getting halfway up the stairs before Moran stopped her.

He leaned on the wall by the stairs, crossing his arms. "Where have you been?"

"Out."

"That's not an answer. I need to know who you talked to, who you ran into. Just in case."

"I ran out to pick some things up. Nothing to worry about," Alice insisted. Moran raised an eyebrow. She sighed, clarifying, "Feminine things. I'm bleeding like a stuck pig, Seb. I figured you didn't need to - or want to - know that."

Satisfied, Moran simply said, "Let me know next time, okay? You're not a prisoner here, but if anyone sees you…"

"I'll be fine. Now if you let me head on to bed, I would be very grateful." Moran nodded, Alice heading off to her room. She dropped her purse on the bed, throwing her shoes in the closet without direction. Moran would be dead soon, and hopefully they would be back to chasing common criminals - forgers, blackmailers, and serial killers without a crime web to keep them going even after they were locked up. They would all be back in the Baker Street flat, and she would have Sherlock and Chester back. And Archie. They would be officially adopting Archie as soon as the war with Moran was over, and as soon as they were officially alive again.