The next morning Sherlock was the first to wake up. He was asleep in Molly's room, she was fast asleep still in his arms. Sherlock sat for a long moment with the realization of what he had done. He moved to sit up and Molly stirred and rolled over to the other side of the bed.

"Sherlock?" She asked. Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed and spent some time rubbing his eyes. Molly sat up and went to him, setting a hand on his shoulder. Sherlock pulled away.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock spoke, shaking his head.

"What?" Molly asked, confused.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock repeated more urgently. "Molly, I don't know what I'm doing." He turned to look back at her. "Whatever happened last night, I want you to keep it secret, it meant nothing." Sherlock bluntly spoke. Molly stared at him for a minute.

"Sherlock…you can't mean that." She began to protest but Sherlock stood and went to put on his clothes.

"Molly, I mean It and I'm sorry to do this to you." Sherlock continued, trying to get out of her flat as soon as possible.

"Sherlock you can't just leave me here after last night!" Molly shouted.

"I can and I will." Sherlock frowned, grabbing his jacket. Molly blocked the door with her body.

"I was right you know, she isn't right for you. I am." Molly snapped. Sherlock was getting annoyed.

"Do not bring Céline into this," Sherlock growled.

"I'm sure she got around while you were gone," Molly spoke, coldly. Sherlock turned red and grabbed her arm, getting in her face.

"Look, Molly, you can't corner a grieving man and expect that sleeping with him will make him fall in love with you." Sherlock coldly spoke back.

"What do you have to grieve?" Molly spoke before Sherlock pushed her out of the way and left. Molly followed him down the stairs. "You'll be back when she sends you away again," Molly shouted after him, her nerves causing her voice to crack.

"I'm not coming back Molly," Sherlock spoke before leaving and slamming the door in her face. He didn't realize that Mycroft had dropped his parents off at 221b Baker Street that morning.


Mary was kind to be there first thing in the morning with a change of clothes when Céline was able to leave. Céline was able to change that morning and she was stuck with a sling for the next couple days while her dislocated shoulder had a chance to fully heal. When Mary got there they quickly left for her appointment, driving in silence for a long part of the drive.

"You don't have to go, I'm sure they'll reschedule." Mary finally spoke up when they got about halfway to her appointment. Céline sigh.

"Mary, I have to. I'm not going to let him make me weak." Céline sternly spoke. Mary nodded and turned the radio up. A couple of minutes later they got to the therapist's office and Céline got out. "Thank you."

"Of course, just tell me when you get back to your flat so I know you're not…" Mary began. Céline nodded.

"I will, I promise." She spoke. Mary smiled and pulled away and Céline watched her for a moment before entering the therapist's office to check-in and wait for her appointment.


Mycroft had been updated about the evening's events by one of his agents. He just knew about Céline and the strange kidnapping and he put some of his agents on it to find out who had done it. But deep down he was certain that nothing would be found out. That morning he had been tied up with his parents. They were visiting from the country and they annoyed him over breakfast before requesting to see Sherlock before their Matinee of Les Mis. Mycroft had dropped them off at 221b Baker Street and they had been entertained by Mrs. Hudson for an hour before Sherlock arrived back home. It was odd to Mycroft, he wondered where Sherlock had been. He wondered if he had spent the night with Céline in the hospital. When he returned to his office he decided that he had wasted too much time most of the day and focused his energy on work and nothing else, shutting his mind off whenever it wandered to Céline or his brother. He wanted to get as much done as possible before his parents returned in a few hours.


Watson got to 221b Baker Street after taking a half-day at work. He entered the house and heard talking coming from upstairs. When he entered the living room Sherlock perked up.

"John!" He exclaimed, excited that he had a reason to kick his parents out. They were the ones sitting on the couch talking. Watson saw them on the couch and drew back.

"Sorry, you're busy," Watson observed. Sherlock quickly rushed over and pulled his mom to her feet.

"Oh no! They were just leaving!" Sherlock quickly spoke. Sherlock's mother exchanged a confused glance with her daughter.

"Oh, were we?" Sherlock's mom asked, confused. Sherlock nodded.

"No, no, if you've got a case." Watson pressed. Sherlock gave him a look.

"No, not a case." Sherlock bluntly spoke. Pushing his mom and dad toward the door, when he got them to the hallway he spoke to them. "Go, bye!"

"Yeah, well, we're here 'til Saturday, remember." Sherlock's mom spoke. "Give us a ring." As Sherlock pushed them out down the stairs his mom continued to talk. "I can't tell you how glad we are, Sherlock. All that time people thinking the worst of you. We're just so pleased it's all over."

"Ring up more often, won't you? She worries." Sherlock's father spoke as they got to the entrance to 221b Baker Street.

"Promise." Sherlock's mom spoke as Sherlock opened the door and shoed them outside.

"Promise." Sherlock snapped before slamming the door shut and taking in a deep breath. He returned upstairs. "Sorry about that." Watson shrugged.

"No, it's fine. Clients?" He asked, curious. Sherlock shrugged.

"...Just my parents. They're in town for a few days. Mycroft promised to take them to a matinee of "Les Mis." But can you believe he tried to talk me into doing it." Sherlock scoffed.

"Those were your parents?" Watson laughed. "They're so…ordinary?" He was amused. Sherlock scoffed and turned to the evidence pinned to the walls, shrugging.

"It's a cross I have to bear." He softly spoke. Sherlock had been distracted from the mess he had caused with his personal life by trying to kick his parents out and focus on the terrorist plot Mycroft had trusted him with. Sherlock turned and noticed Watson was back to normal. "See you've shaved it off, then." Sherlock pointed out, noticing the missing mustache.

"Yeah. Wasn't working for me." Watson shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. Sherlock chuckled.

"Good. I prefer my doctors clean-shaven." Sherlock nodded, turning to the evidence.

"So, why am I here?" Watson asked, sitting down in his old armchair. Sherlock was carefully staying the evidence.

"According to Mycroft. There's an underground network planning an attack on London, that's all we know." Sherlock began.


Céline was at work in her office. Her therapist's appointment with Faith had gone well. She had discussed a lot about her father and Moriarty during the course of the meeting and she was set to go back next week. It was Sunday but she decided to drop by and work on her lesson plans for the week to get her mind off of Sherlock and all of his antics. As she worked she decided she wanted a coffee and wandered over to the coffee shop. As she waited for the barista to prepare her order she was lost in thought. Considering what her therapist had told her that morning about Mycroft.

There was no doubt, Céline was hurt. Sherlock had hurt her once more but she tried to reason that she wasn't sure how far he and Molly had gone or what exactly had happened between them and that thought brought her temporary solace. However, when she returned to her office. Molly Hopper was waiting for her by her office door and that illusion would quickly shatter.

"Molly?" Céline frowned. Molly nervously straightened up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I wasn't sure if you'd be here since it's a Sunday, but I thought I'd wait a few minutes," Molly spoke, beating around the bush. Céline felt her heart beating fast in her chest.

"What are you doing here?" Céline curtly asked, wanting her to get to the point and leave. Molly took a deep breath.

"I needed to tell you something woman to woman," Molly spoke. The statement knocked the wind out of Céline but she didn't show it. She knew what Molly was about to say and knew it would break her heart in two. Molly was quiet, waiting for a reaction from Céline before delivering the final blow.

"Well, get on with it." Céline calmly spoke, keeping her breathing steady as her therapist had taught her to.

"Sherlock stayed the night at my flat," Molly spoke. "We consummated our relationship." Céline felt sick, she let the statement hang in the air for a moment before stepping past Molly to her office door.

"Thank you for telling me," Céline spoke, tucking her coffee against her body with her sling and rummaging for her office key. It took every ounce of her being to not break down when saying it. When Céline found her key she unlocked the door and shut it behind her, leaving Molly outside in the hallway alone. Molly quickly scuttled away when Céline had shut herself in her office.

Céline set her coffee on her desk and sunk to the floor, resting her head against the side of the desk. She could hear Molly's heels against the floor outside and waited until they faded into the distance to let out a cry of pain. She drew her knees into her chest. Her heart had been ripped in two knowing that her worst suspicions had been confirmed and she spent the next few minutes letting herself feel and express whatever she needed to.


In another place, a man was watching footage of Sherlock and Watson pulling Céline's body from the bonfire. His eyes were glazed over. A man entering broke his concentrations.

"Magnussen. She found out. Hooper went and told her…" The man spoke. Magnussen frowned and turned back to the footage, rewinding it to watch it over again. Magnussen had been closely watching and following Céline. He figured she was an asset to use to control both Sherlock and Mycroft. She was high on both of the men's lists of "pressure points". When the relationship between Molly and Sherlock developed he gathered enough information to extort Sherlock but now his plans had been ruined by Molly. Magnussen watched the footage closely and finally hit a solution. He began to laugh and turned to the man who had entered to give him the news.

"No, no…This is better." Magnussen took out his phone and scrolled through his photo folders until he reached the photos of Sherlock and Molly. A smug smirk was on his face and he sent all of the photos to Mycroft under an unmarked number. "Tell Faith to press a Mycroft angle."


Mycroft was in Les Mis when he got the texts. He slowly stood and excused himself. When he got to the foyer he checked the message. It was from an unknown number. They were a photograph of Sherlock and Molly embraced in front of her flat the evening before. Mycroft scrolled through them, his blood boiling. He thought about what to do for a moment and decided to call Sherlock. Sherlock answered a few moments after the ring had started.

"What?" Sherlock bluntly spoke. He and Watson had been reviewing the train disappearance footage all afternoon and had just reached the conclusion that there was a terrorist plot that had to do with the vote in parliament the following evening. Mycroft's call had interrupted them.

"What the hell happened last night?" Mycroft snapped, trying to keep his voice down. This was the last straw for Mycroft, his brother hadn't realized what he had with Céline's love. He envied it and wished for it so deeply and his brother flippantly took advantage.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock spoke, his tone was innocent. He was trying to stay neutral.

"Did you fuck Molly?" Mycroft bluntly asked. Sherlock got quiet on the other line.

"It was a mistake," Sherlock answered. "Céline sent me out again and I didn't know what else to do…"

"Didn't know what else to do!?" Mycroft shouted, an usher shushed him and he apologized and lowered his tone. "Didn't know what else to do? Sherlock, what do you mean you didn't know what else to do?"

"What would you know Mycroft, you've never been with a woman." Sherlock snapped. Mycroft bit his cheek. He had been with many women. He had been in casual relationships for years but they had simply run their course. Casual sexual relationships were something that didn't interest Mycroft anymore and that was part of why his feelings for Céline had been so unique and strong.

"Sherlock, you're going to regret this. You're so stupid." Mycroft snapped. Sherlock groaned on the other line.

"Look, Mycroft it meant nothing, don't tell her," Sherlock begged.

"What do you mean don't tell her? She has a right to know." Mycroft argued. He heard applause from the theatre and knew that people would be coming out soon.

"It's not your place to tell her." Sherlock began.

"Well, will you?" Mycroft asked. Sherlock got quiet again and hung up the phone. Mycroft didn't know what to do next. He went to his messages and lingered on Céline's number before everyone began leaving the theatre.


When Sherlock hung up he had a message from Molly.

I told her everything.

Sherlock stared at the message for a long moment and immediately called Céline. The number quickly clicked and disconnected. Céline had blocked his number. Watson was sitting in the armchair.

"What happened?" He asked, confused. Sherlock shook his head and put on his jacket.

"Nothing, I'll be right back." Sherlock threw his phone onto the couch and went downstairs, buying three packages of cigarettes from the small shop under his flat.


Mycroft was sitting on the steps that led up to her flat. A vase of roses sat beside him. Right after the show ended he sent his parents to dinner and got Céline the roses. He could hear her heels before he saw her. When she crossed the small entryway to the stairs she stopped when she saw him. The first thing Mycroft noticed was her sling and her puffy red eyes. She knew. He wasn't sure if Sherlock had told her but he could tell she knew. He and Céline watched each other for a long moment before he stood and stepped close.

"I came as soon as I was able." Mycroft softly spoke. Céline swallowed down more tears before closing the space between him to hug him with her good arm. Mycroft wrapped his arms around her, careful of her sling. "Céline, I'm sorry." He honestly spoke. She didn't say anything but he heard her sniffle. Mycroft pulled away and placed a hand on her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "Let's go inside." He softly spoke, kissing her forehead.

"Ok." Céline softly spoke, leading Mycroft to her apartment.


Things are getting heated up puddin's! Will Sherlock and Céline ever recover? Stay tuned! I decided to add one more chapter to wrap-up "The Empty Hearse" and that will come to you in the next couple of days!