Author's note- Thank you for all the lovely reviews, I really do appreciate it!

Now this chapter will only be short because I'm at the end of my GCSE's and I don't really have time to go watching the same ten minutes of The Reichenbach Fall for a few hours just to get a chapter done. So I'm going to just put in some extra stuff in here- so I hope you like it!

And here we are. Chapter 40! Can you believe it? I definitely can't believe it.

Disclaimer- I still owe you a disclaimer *spray paints IOU onto your screen before walking away hand in hand with Jim Moriarty.*

Chapter 40

There were several clicks as another slide fell into place underneath the microscope. Two small drops could be heard before a pH tester stick was placed in the solution- alkaline. Lucy watched with fascination as Sherlock and Molly- apparently chemistry geniuses- set to work. They started to conduct multiple tests to determine what residue was left on the footprint to further discover all possible areas that the kidnapper had most recently been. His footprint was like a passport, showing all the places where he had been. John- bless him- really didn't know what to do with himself, he obviously knew a lot about science because he was a doctor, but he wasn't entirely clued up as to what they were testing for. Mainly because Sherlock was muttering to himself and Molly only, leaving John and Lucy feeling left out. But if it meant that they could work faster then that was what mattered. Instead, John and Lucy were reading some of the chemistry type books that were lying around. But after a few minutes, the young girl just became restless. She needed to move about, or do something.

"I'm going for a walk." She muttered to John.

"You okay?" He looked at her as she stood up with a small amount of concern detectible in his face.

"Yeah I'm fine," She didn't want to worry him, "I just could do with a walk around. I won't be long."

John nodded and gave her a smile. Lucy glanced over to the consulting detective- who was inspecting a test tube- before running a hand through her hair and exiting the building. By now, she knew where most corridors led to- but she was looking for one in particular. A few turns and she found a door leading to a staircase. With a breath she opened the door and ascended the stairs at a steady pace. Lucy reached another door that she opened. Light instantly poured onto her and bathed her in the midday sun, she squinted and breathed in the fresh air. With careful footsteps she made her way to the middle of the rooftop of St Bart's hospital. Sitting down on the ground, her mind flashed back to a mere few months ago when she remembered herself in the same position. It sickened her how she did this to herself. Return to a place that brought back bad memories was a stupid idea- but it grounded her, made her feel less numb. And as she sighed she realised just how messed up things had gotten. Everything had become so much more complex since she moved in with Sherlock and John- her flatmates... her friends... her family. The only family she could say she had. At least this was one family that she could choose.

With a heavy heart she rubbed her left arm- the arm that was most scarred. The teenager smiled down sadly at it. Not only was her body ruined, but so was her education. But she was lucky that she could get a second chance at her education- which is why she had been working so hard for the past few months. Lucy wouldn't get a second chance with her body, her skin. What was etched into her fragile body was going to be there for a while- some maybe all of her life. It was a part of her. Not that she was going to let her scars hold her back. When she was better, she decided that she would wear long sleeves without fear of mocking. But that's when she got better... if she ever got better.

"It's nice to see you again." A familiar voice said from a few feet behind her. With a gasp, Lucy stood up and whirled around. The man stood in a non threatening manner, his eyes observing her with some form of messed up respect.

The Irish man smiled- in almost a way that made it look like he was mocking her- but maybe she was too suspicious of him. The teenager observed him. He was dressed oddly. She'd never seen him without a suit. And yet, here he stood, with blue jeans, a dark checked shirt and a grey t-shirt underneath as well as some kind of converse. Feeling already confused, Lucy copied his smile. She held her posture high and steady- also non threatening but on guard nonetheless.

"I would say likewise but given the circumstances, James Moriarty, I'm not sure how nice it truly is." Lucy raised her eyebrows as he smirked.

"I knew you were better than I expected." He said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, that it was a very clever trick you did back in that warehouse." He walked forwards closer to her, "You could have actually killed yourself with that blank gun, I admire you mad side."

"You would know about madness." She quipped.

"Obviously."

"Why are you here?"

"You know, I never wanted to hurt you." Jim suddenly stopped in front of her to look at her with some kind of... sadness in his eye. Lucy furrowed her eyebrows, confused.

"Don't take me as a fool." She shook her head.

"It's true!" He suddenly sounded desperate, "I never wanted to hurt you. Never. Why on earth would I? I didn't even know you."

"Where are you going with this?" Lucy took a breath, feeling incredibly confused and uncertain about everything.

"Look, he made me do it." Jim told her, "He made me go after you, he told me to make sure you were dead. He told me to mess you up beyond repair. He wanted this. He paid me to do it. I was out of work. It was the only thing I could do. When I found out that you were alive... I was so relieved." Moriarty ran a hand through his hair looking thoroughly distraught. "He's making me do this. He's paying me. You can't let him know that you know. I wanted to warn you. He's a fraud."

"Wait," Lucy was suddenly questioning everything that had happened within that past few months. Was everything a lie? But why should she trust him? "Who is 'he'?"

"Sherlock." Jim looked at her with apologetic eyes. "I'm being honest, I am. I'm an actor. He paid me to do everything. He's a fake. Just... think about it please." He shook his head, "I have to go, I can't risk him seeing me." Jim turned to walk away.

"Hey, stop," Lucy ran to move in front of him. "I have no reason to believe you. Sherlock wouldn't fake everything. He's my friend. He wouldn't do something like this."

"Your own parents changed didn't they? They didn't act that hatred towards you. You'd be surprised. You think you know someone... but they can be completely different people underneath the surface- and not always in a good way." Moriarty looked into her eyes. "I wanted to warn you. He invented me, invented the crimes. My name is Rich Brook. Be cautious of him." He glanced at Lucy one last time before jogging to the exit and taking his leave.

The young girl just stood there, not quite believing what she just heard. It just messed up everything she thought was real. How could she possibly know who to trust? The obvious choice was Sherlock. But Moriarty... Rich... he seemed different to how she'd ever seen him before. And a part of her was inclined to believe everything he just said. She ran a hand across her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. Lucy was so confused. She had to believe Sherlock though. He was her friend... wasn't he?

"Dammit!" She cursed, annoyed at herself for questioning every action over the past few months, every move Sherlock had made was suddenly blurred with uncertainty. But she felt like she could truly trust Sherlock, despite this spanner in the works. Noticing the time, she slowly made her way back to the lab.

Lucy couldn't tell Sherlock or John or anyone what had happened. She just wished she knew the definite truth. Honestly, she didn't want to question Sherlock. She trusted him with all of her being- and that was a fact. But still, she couldn't kill the uncertainty that had made its home in the back of her mind- and she was scared that that uncertainty was going to multiply.

"Have a nice walk?" John queried, bringing Lucy out of her trance.

"Yeah," She said, her voice not belonging to her body as she continued to mull over what Jim... Rich... had said.

"Glycerol molecule... what are you?" Sherlock mumbled to himself.

"Glycerol?" Lucy repeated, Sherlock glanced at her from his work and nodded. "I swear that's like sugar?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her. "Really could do with some chocolate later, thinking about sugar." Lucy commented absentmindedly.

"Oh!" Sherlock's eyes widened. "The glycerol molecule..." A grin spread across his face. "PGPR."

"What?" John frowned.

"It's used in making chocolate." Sherlock Holmes stood up, putting his coat on and texting something on his phone.

"Looks like we're done then," Molly muttered as Sherlock finished sending multiple texts.

"I've texted Lestrade and my homeless network. I told Lestrade that we're coming over now and I've asked my homeless network to get me information on warehouses in the area." He began to walk out of the door.

"Looks like we're going." John grumbled as he stood up and followed the consulting detective.

Lucy watched them walk out of the building, she smiled at Molly before following her flatmates. Did Sherlock really not know what the glycerol molecule was? Or was he just biding his time for the perfect moment to find out what it is? The young girl bit her lip, hating herself for thinking such thoughts.

She just hoped- for once- that Moriarty was lying.

Author's note- please leave a review!