A/N Thank you everyone for the wonderful reviews! You guys are the BEST! I am so glad you are all enjoying the adventure! Its been a treat to write! On that note... i apologize for my absence. I wasn't very happy with things... i actually changed a lot. SO i hope you enjoy this next installment.

i figure we have a few more chapters to go! I hope everyone continues to enjoy the ride!

John actually enjoyed the next few hours. After the week he'd had and the hell he had gone through he was more then happy to welcome the quiet hours… even if it did involve taking care of his friend. He wouldn't have it any other way though and Sherlock was being surprisingly cooperative. John made eggs and sausage for breakfast and couldn't shake the accomplished feeling when Sherlock ate most of everything on his plate and kept it down with no problems. After the dishes were done, John ushered his friend back to the couch. There had been a small empty protest from the dark haired man but John only smiled and plunked him onto the sofa with a blanket and a book.

It took less then ten minutes for Sherlock to dose off.

Sherlock had napped for about an hour as John picked up around the flat and then even took a quick shower. He still had that excited and relieved feeling raging through him. Sherlock was alive! His limp was no longer present and his steps were lighter, like he didn't carry the whole world on his shoulders. He knew that the moment Sherlock left the flat again he'd feel that empty hole once more but it was different this time. He'd know that somewhere just at the edge of town, his best friend would be annoying his brother with his violin playing and late hours.

It was lunchtime now and John guided his friend back to the kitchen table. Just as John handed Sherlock a warm cup of soup, a small knock echoed through the flat.

John and Sherlock looked at each other.

"Its Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock's tone relaxed the Ex-Amy Doctor.

"How…"

"I know the knock."

"Of course…"

John shook his head and headed for the door. He didn't even question Sherlock and opened the door without hesitation. The small quirkily little old woman stood happily in front of him.

"Hello John! How is our young patient today?"

John didn't have a chance to answer when he felt a presence behind him.

"I'm doing just fine Mrs. Hudson."

John turned around to find Sherlock standing behind him. Even with how weak he was, Sherlock still managed to sneak up on him.

"Oh thank goodness you are up and about!" Mrs. Hudson side stepped John and reached for Sherlock's face once again. This time though she took a moment to look him over. Nodding slightly, she grabbed his chin to emphasis her words. "Don't scare me like that again."

"Yes Ma'am."

"Or John… He was a right ol' mess when you left us!"

Sherlock glanced over her head to John who shrugged off her words. John already figured Sherlock knew just how distraught he'd been.

"I promise to do my best." But Sherlock didn't look at Mrs. Hudson when he said it. He looked square at John.

John nodded. It was the best he could do.

"Hey Sherlock. I'm going to help Mrs. Hudson out with her things. I'll be right back."

Sherlock tipped his head in a nod and smiled warmly at the old lady as she patted his cheek again. "Tell your sister we wish her well."

Mrs. Hudson's eyes misted up but she bit it back and pulled Sherlock back into another hug.

"I will Dear… and be good." With that she turned to follow John from the flat.

John helped Mrs. Hudson into the taxi and placed her bag into the trunk. With his hands in his pants pockets he smiled warmly at her.

"Take care of… things… while I'm gone young man." She took his hand lightly and gave it a small squeeze of reassurance.

"You know I will." John nodded, returning the smile. Mrs. Hudson lowered herself into the taxi cab and waved her goodbyes as she drove off. At least the little old lady wouldn't be involved in any of this. She would be safe and far away. She didn't want to go though. She wanted to stay and mother Sherlock. But John assured her that he'd do enough smothering for the both of them on their way down the stairs. She didn't need to know of their plans. She needed to concentrate on her sister's health.

John waited until the Taxi had turned off of Baker St. before going back toward the door. He did his best to show no emotion on his face while outside. He knew they were being watched. He truly hated the idea of it.

When John returned to the flat he found Sherlock in his bedroom, hovering over a night bag on the chair by his dresser. John waited a few minutes, watching as his friend sluggishly stuffed some necessities in the bag.

"Just need a few things." Sherlock didn't turn to John but knew he was standing there watching.

"I can't believe I'm saying this but… I don't want you to leave again."

Sherlock turned around at John's sad tone.

"It wont be permanent John…"

"I know… yea… of course."

John's tone wasn't all convincing.

"Listen. All this stuff is coming back. I'm not unpacking permanently somewhere else. This is my home. My absence is temporary."

"Right. Well…that's good."

"I'm sorry you had to feel otherwise."

"No… I understand. Its just… it's been a hard week."

"Has it been a week?" Sherlock smirked and placed a hairbrush into the bag.

"Ha ha… yea… maybe two days for you…"

"It wont be long John… Surely we can corner Moriarty if we can get his guard down. If he believes I'm really dead then maybe he'll make a mistake."

John watched as Sherlock made his way into the bathroom to grab some things.

"So that's what we are banking on? Do you believe that he will?"

There was a paused from the dark haired man before he turned around and stopped. He looked from the floor up to John and sighed before continuing forward again.

"I believe it's our only chance."

"That's not what I asked…"

"I know… " Sherlock dumped the stuff in his hands into his bag and ran a white hand through his curls.

"How long do you think we'll have to wait?" John stuffed his hands in his pockets, knowing he was asking a question no one could answer. He couldn't help it though and he was sure Sherlock would remind him of how silly a question it was.

"I can't guess… I honestly don't know."

Sherlock zipped up the bag and bent slightly to lift it up when John crossed the distance between them and snatched it up first. Sherlock wasn't ready to lift things. Even his overnight baggage.

"So… this could be goodbye for a while huh?"

There was no argument on John taking the bag and Sherlock looked straight into the doctor's eyes to answer him.

"Hopefully not. But I'm certain Moriarty will not miss a beat. He'll conduct business as usual and hopefully we can count on his ego to help us corner him somehow."

"We wont be able to talk… I can't visit."

Sherlock huffed and put his hands on Johns shoulders, turning him around and pushing him toward the bedroom door. "Surely you'll go to my second funeral!"

"Sherlock…."

The taller man let John go when they got to the kitchen and shrugged his shoulders.

"What? My dear friend John wouldn't miss it for the world!"

John put the bag down in the nearest chair and plunged himself down into another. This was all the stuff he did NOT want to think about today. He was content enough in knowing that his friend was breathing and doing just fine. He didn't want to think about Moriarty or… well… any of this other crap.

"Ok… ok yes. I'll be there."

"Wonderful!" Sherlock picked up his tone again and sat down slowly across from John. His half eaten lunch was now cold and he pushed the bowl aside. "Then this is not goodbye. Not tonight."

"No… not tonight."

"Good then. Now that we are on a more cheerful wavelength… don't you wanna make cookies or something?"

Confusion littered John Watson's facial features. "You don't eat cookies."

"Who ever said that?" Sherlock leaned a bit forward and folded his hands together.

"Sherlock I've never seen you eat so much as a crumb of sweets since I moved in here."

"That's because you've never baked anything. Now get a move on Doctor Watson. I need a Chocolate Chip cookie to make me feel better."

John shook his head at his friend but the corners of his mouth lifted in a small smile. "You're an ass."

Sherlock smiled back at the insult knowing that it wasn't real and watched as John got up from his chair with a little more vigor, heading for the cabinet. His plan to ease John's mind had worked for now.

Later would be a whole other story.

The two men dressed as paramedics placed a dark bag on a gurney and unzipped it, opening the edges enough for Sherlock to slip in.

John groaned and looked anywhere but at it.

"Its not real John…" Sherlock had said those very words already but they did little to ease John's anxiousness.

"But it was…"

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock stepped forward and put a hand on John's shoulder.

"No… it wasn't."

"I didn't know that." The doctor looked right into his friends blue eyes and Sherlock could see the strong emotions rolling around in them.

"But you know it now. It's not real. I'll be out of it once we're in the ambulance. Then once we get to Mycroft's I'll even let you burn it."

John turned his head to Mycroft Holmes who stood to the side like a bodyguard. The man blinked dully before speaking. "I'll even supply the match Dr. Watson."

"Ha… ha…" John looked back at Sherlock and nodded that he was fine now and the taller man let go of his shoulder to get back to the task at hand.

"I'll follow behind you?" Lestrade asked as he stood from the arm of the lounge chair.

Mycroft nodded. "Yes… You will be Dr. Watson's ride home."

John and Lestrade looked at each other briefly before going back to the body bag. Sherlock stood over it and looked at it like it was an interesting experiment.

"Well if you are going to go on with this agonizing plan then get it over with."

Sherlock looked back up at John but looked almost like he didn't hear him. "Maybe you should give me a sedative. Moriarty may notice if I become tense in the bag for any reason."

John looked dumbfounded at the Consulting Detective for a moment, not fully believing what he'd just suggested but shook out of it quickly remembering that this was Sherlock.

"You are going way overboard. Get your skinny ass in the bag."

From a few feet away, Mycroft smirked at the doctor's orders. "I quite agree with Dr. Watson."

"Fine."

Sherlock's movements were still slow and unsteady and even though John knew he should probably stick around to help encase his friend needed some to get on the gurney and into the bag, he couldn't handle much more. He turned around and stepped out of the room, leaving the unknown and unnamed paramedics, Lestrade and Mycroft to be there if he needed any. Of course he knew Sherlock would never ask any of them… the stubborn git… But he still refused to be there. He didn't care how childish it was.

Lestrade followed him into the other room a few minutes later and signaled it was time to go.

"I'm not going."

Lestrade stopped mid stride and spun to look at John. He was clearly surprised with the decision.

"What?"

"You heard me. Sherlock's already in the Ambulance right? He can't argue with me. There's no reason for me to go with them."

"John, are you sure?"

"More then sure. Just tell him… tell him I'll talk to him soon and to… ya know… just be careful?"

Lestrade still looked a bit stunned but he nodded at John and left the room quietly.

Dr. John Watson walked himself back into the other room in a daze. Everyone was gone now… Sherlock was gone. John dropped himself onto the couch and rubbed his eyes with his shaking hands.

He knew Sherlock would be more then miffed with him for breaking the plan. But in all honesty there was no good reason why he should go with them. If Moriarty were watching he couldn't see a reason why it would be odd that he didn't go with Mycroft Holmes.

And right now he didn't really care.

John didn't want to say goodbye again. It was better this way… for both of them.

It had been two days since Sherlock left the flat… left his friend John all alone again. The Doctor hadn't heard anything from the Holmes family or even Lestrade. The gag order was securely in place.

John had gone to work… he'd had a lunch date with Sarah who couldn't help but continuously held his hand in support. Poor Sarah. If she had known Sherlock was still alive she would probably be pretty mad that she was being duped. But John was grateful for her concern and her company.

Things were turning out just the same as before Sherlock had turned up after his "Funeral."

Bland… quiet… lonely.

Bits of ham had just finished warming on the stove when a ringing filled his ears. His cell phone was in his pocket and it certainly wasn't ringing. They had no land phone and he'd never heard Mrs. Hudson's' phone ring before.

Turning the stove off, John turned in the direction of the faint ring. He crossed the kitchen and headed for Sherlock's closed bedroom door and let himself in.

John flicked the light on and let his eyes adjust briefly before following the sound straight to the tall old oak dresser in the corner.

It wasn't coming from inside though. Thank goodness… the last thing he wanted to do was go through Sherlock's clothes

John peeked around the corner and sure enough, there, wedged between the wall and the dresser was a buzzing light.

John leaned down and stuffed his hand in, pulling out a simple cell phone. It had stopped ringing in his attempt to reach it but the ex army doctor jumped where he stood when it started up again. The number on the display was not one he recognized but his curiosity got the better of him and he flipped open the phone.

"Uh… Hello?

"Finally! I called 4 times in a row! Did you not hear it? Are you watching those crappy stories of Mrs. Hudson's?"

John brought the phone back in front of him and looked at it in confusion. He brought it back up to his ear quickly. "Sher…."

"NO! No no… don't say my name."

"But I thought the house wasn't bugged?" John moved to sit himself down into the chair along side the dresser.

"Its not... "

The doctor shook his head. "Ok… why do you have a cell phone hidden behind your dresser?"

"Encase of emergencies I always have one charged and ready. No one has the number." Sherlock's voice sounded bored already at having to answer a question he obviously felt was obvious.

"That's awfully paranoid of you…"

Sherlock huffed on the other line. "No… Not paranoid… prepared."

"Whatever you want to call it." John shrugged even though he knew Sherlock couldn't see it.

For a moment there was silence. Neither man said anything and John was the first to clear his throat.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Not really… Just wanted you to find the phone. Your phone may be tapped… this one isn't. Now we can chat with one another."

John lifted his eyebrows.

"Chat? What are we going to chat about?

"Anything… " There was that dull tone again.

"Other then cases… do we usually chat about much together?" John leaned forward in the chair and put his elbows on his knees waiting for an answer.

Sherlock sounded a bit stumped. "Well… I guess not… but now we can start."

His answer provided another silent pause and John rolled his eyes.

"Ok… well... if you don't have anything to sa…"

"Why didn't you come the other night?"

John figured this question would have been the first thing asked. He'd actually expected it right away. He was momentarily surprised at Sherlock's ability to be patient.

"You didn't need me. It wouldn't have made much difference if I came or not."

Sherlock knew John was right. But John coming along to Mycroft's that night truly had nothing to do with the whole plan.

"I always need you."

John closed his eyes and took in his friend's words. It may have been just what the doctor needed to hear. Sherlock was never needy on anyone but maybe… just maybe his friend truly did trust him enough to let his guard down a bit on occasion. Maybe he knew now that John would always cover his back when he did.

"Apparently you pulled everything off just fine without me."

"It did run smoothly." Sherlock paused a moment before continuing. "I was looking forward to talking to you when I got there. So I had to find another way."

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I just wanted to make sure you'd be alright while I was away. But I see you've been keeping busy."

"I'm not even going to ask how."

"You do know my brother John. How is Sarah doing by the way?"

"She's fine. She's tried to cheer me up and I feel guilty about it."

"I wouldn't expect you not to."

"Yea… well… sometimes I wish she knew." John ran a hand over his face, pressing into his eyes with the heel of his hands to release the pressure in his head.

"You trust her right? Maybe we can let her in on it."

"No no… I'd rather her not know. It keeps her safe."

Sherlock waited a moment giving John a chance to change his mind before continuing. "You are right. But John, if you wanted her to know I'd be ok with it. Anything to help you out."

"Thanks…" Sherlock's offer wasn't normal for the consulting detective. It was selfless and hardly ideal to tell Sarah their secret. But the man had offered, knowing that it would help out John… even if it was just a tiny bit.

John couldn't have thanked him enough for the suggestion.

"So what are you making for dinner? Sherlock actually felt interested.

"How did you know I was making dinner?

"The amount of time it took for you to answer and the distance and…"

"Ok nevermind…" John smiled for the first time in days and leaned back again in the chair, relaxing more and more as they talked.

"You asked… well? What are you having?"

"Oh… um… ham. Warmed some up on the stove"

John breathed in, smelling the ham that was now getting cold on the stove in the next room.

"I could really go for some Chinese from the place down the street." John chuckled lightly. Sherlock actually sounded like a whiney teenager.

"Why don't you have Mycroft's people get you some?"

A sigh reached John's ears.

"Cant… He's not here."

"Well why aren't you calling him then?"

Sherlock snorted.

"I don't call Mycroft. Besides, I'm babysitting."

For a second John thought maybe he'd heard wrong.

"You… what?"

"Babysitting… " Sherlock heard an odd noise on the other end and scowled. "Are you laughing?"

"No no…." John worked hard to control himself, biting his lip to stop a giggle from coming out. It was no use though and he let out another short laugh. "Ok yes… its just… odd! I can't picture it!

Sherlock didn't have a chance to rebut when a tiny voice filtered through the phone into John's ear.

"Uncle Sherlock! It's coming on! Hurry!"

"What's that Lexie…?"

"SpongeBob!"

"What?"

"SpongeBob Square pants!" The little girl put her hands on her hips in annoyance and her tone echoed through into John's ears. He couldn't help but laugh again.

"Square… What?"

"Don't tell me you've never heard of SpongeBob Square pants? Not even once…?" John's giggles returned.

"I didn't think my lack of information on pop culture shocked you anymore John."

"I still don't get it."

"Uncle Sherlock!"

"Alexia I'm on the phone dear. Please go watch on your own."

"Pleaaaseee! Daddy always watches with me!"

Sherlock snorted and John could almost see his eyes twinkle at the new blackmail information.

"John… who is this SpongeBob Square pants?"

The doctor smiled wide, eager to enjoy this conversation now.

"Well… he lives in a pineapple under the sea…"

"Well that's highly unlikely."

"Why?"

"There are no pineapples in the ocean John. This is going to be quiet unnerving."

John shook his head lightheartedly. "You'll be fine. Think outside the box for once."

Sherlock actually laughed at John's words.

"Uncle Sherlock… Why are you making the poor girl wait?"

"Wow…" John mouthed at the new voice.

"I'm coming Harold…"

"Did Mycroft Rapidly drop in age?" John's jaw was still dropped in shock. He'd seen the little boy at Sherlock's "Funeral" but did not hear him talk. He would have never known how similar to his father he really was.

"He is a mirror image, John."

"Two Mycroft's…"

"Horrifying."

Both men laughed slightly followed by a silent moment that was soon shattered by Sherlock and in a more serious tone then before.

"Look John… I know its best that I'm not there… for you… for me… but…"

"Yea yea I miss you too… sorta. I've been sleeping like a baby though."

"Well we must fix that." John could hear the smile on the other mans face.

"Ha… yea. I suppose. We have a plan right?"

"Of course. We'll catch up soon."

"Uncle Sherlockkkkk!" The little voice sounded almost angry.

"I'm being summoned."

"Better hurry."

"Goodbye John."

And then with a loud click the cell phone went silent and John Watson went back to his cooling ham and a night on the couch.

John's heart and body felt lighter after speaking to Sherlock the night before. He'd gone to work with an extra spring in his step and smiled warmly at the people in the waiting room. He'd hugged Sarah tightly in greeting and she had hugged back just as strong, obviously thankful that John was in better spirits.

The day had gone by faster because of his good mood. His coffee had tasted better and the air even seemed sweeter. It was amazing how great he'd felt today after talking to his friend.

John didn't have many friends anymore. He'd lost many in war and when he came back things just weren't the same with his old friends. He'd lost touch with all of them. No one seemed to understand what he was going through… and they didn't even try.

Sherlock understood. Sure he never served in a war… but he knew the feeling and its effects. Sherlock knew John at times more then he knew himself.

He'd helped to pick him back up and set him on his feet firmly.

Somehow they just meshed well together as friends. They understood each other and that spoke volumes.

John was thankful for that…

So the plan for the night was simple. Dinner at home with a book and maybe... hopefully… a phone call from Sherlock to talk about absolutely nothing at all. Tomorrow was Saturday… his day off. He'd already planned a lunch date with Sarah and maybe even a movie.

Things were far from normal. But John Watson was pretty sure that this was just the way he'd prefer it.

John was so busy in his own mind to notice the sudden chill in the air as he walked home from the clinic. He'd been too wrapped up in thought to see the change in atmosphere… too distracted to react accordingly.

His guard had been completely down.

John turned a corner, still walking along seemingly oblivious to the rest of the world.

It wasn't until he felt hands go around his shoulders and pull him back hard that he realized his mistake.

John was a great fighter when he had to be… but with his lack of attention, his reflexes were slower then normal and his adrenaline didn't have a chance to kick into high gear before a cloth covered his nose and mouth roughly.

Doctor John Watson knew immediately what the strong smell was as his reflexes slowed. He couldn't help but breath in the sickening odor.

There was no time to be mad or even embarrassed that someone got the drop on him as he slid down to the cold pavement.

His body went limp before it hit the ground.