A/n: Thanks for the responses for chapter 4! They were awesome and I love the feedback. As always, I'd like to thank my betas Amalia Kensington and coloradoandcolorado1. They are really helping to keep my on track!

Also I always forget to add the disclaimer – so I own nothing.

Enjoy!

Someone I Used to Know

Chapter 5

Three months.

It has been three months since Sherlock walked into my lab and asked for my help.

As I enjoyed one of the last fair weather days of London before the fall chill truly starts to set in, I'm not surprised to see Sherlock take a seat in the spot where my uneaten sandwich had been sitting. Said sandwich is now in his hands, being inspected.

"I do worry you know," I said, not fully turning to look at him.

"Because your emotional attachment to me has grown stronger over the past three months," he says before taking a bite from the sandwich.

"I need answers. You know I have hundreds of questions going through my mind, daily, and I can't just deduce the answers on my own," I said, trying to keep some on the annoyance out of my voice. "It's been a week since I last saw you, and I haven't heard a word from you. You keep doing this. You disappear for some period of time and then show up at my flat or a car pulls up as I'm leaving work with my bags already packed inside. I have no control over this, and for someone who prefers to be in control, I would think you would give my feelings a thought. I've called in sick three times in the past two months. I've never called in sick, not once, in my entire life!"

"That's a lie," he said, finishing the sandwich.

"Out of all of that you are just going to accuse me of lying about calling in sick?" I asked, finally turning to really look at him. He was wearing a pair of sunglasses, the ones everyone seemed to own these days. His hair was slightly shorter and his clothing was nice, but not nearly as formal as he used to wear on a daily basis.

"Molly, you know I tend to… forget about others when my focus is somewhere else," he replied, still staring ahead.

"Check in from time to time," I said, turning to also look ahead. "Let me know that you haven't actually died," I added in a softer tone.

I was surprised as Sherlock covered my hand with his. While I had grown slightly more used to our physical contact, it still usually left me confused.

"Fair enough, Molly Hooper. I'll check in, every few days," he said.

"Thank you," I replied, grateful that for once he'd listened to me.

"My brother would like to meet with you," he said then, changing the subject radically. "If he offers you money, take it."

"What?" I asked once again turning to look at him.

"It will be his way of ridding himself of some of the guilt he feels for playing such a large role in my fall, and in a way, my checking in with you is doing him a service. He obviously has surveillance on you, and by me appearing from time to time, it lets him know I'm safe," Sherlock explained.

"But you check in with him as well. How else would he be sending you on all of the assignments you've been going on?" I asked, turning towards him more, our hands still resting between us on the bench.

"Hardly, if there is something he wants me to do, an envelope will be waiting for me at your flat," he explained. "Beyond that, I don't really feel the need to keep Mycroft in the loop. I haven't only been leaving the country to help him."

"So Jim… Moriarty has others out there, are they still watching John?" I asked.

"Possibly. I'd need to be around John to know for sure, but as long as my death was convincing, he and the others should be safe now," he said, the fingers over top of mine now moving in a drumming motion.

We were interrupted as a woman who looked vaguely familiar approached us from the corner of my eye.

"Molly, Molly Hopper?" she asked as a smile broke onto her face. "It's been ages!"

"Mary!" I said pulling myself off of the bench. Mary Morstan had been my flatmate for two years during university until she had decided to move Scotland for a teaching job and to follow her then boyfriend.

"I've just moved back—how could I truly leave London forever? And imagine running into you so soon! I took a job at City University down the road. I knew you work at Bart's so I figured I'd stop by in between classes," she said with a smile. She, to this day, is one of the most genuine people I knew and while we had tried to keep in touch over the years, it had been months since we had last talked and years since we had seen each other.

As she reached us, we pulled each other in for a hug. As we separated, she glanced towards Sherlock.

"Oh, sorry, Mary, I'd like you to meet… Paul," I said glancing over to him. "Paul, this is my old roommate from university, Mary."

"Nice to meet you!" she said giving Sherlock a quick once over. Out of everyone, she was always the first to point out the flaws in any man—boy—I dated, usually for my own good. "Are you the boyfriend?"

"We've only been seeing each other for a few months," Sherlock said with a smile as he stood up beside me, shaking Mary's hand. "We actually met in medical school, when I thought I wanted to be a doctor."

"She's never mentioned you," Mary said with a smile. She wasn't being rude, but was also never one to avoid a truth.

"So what brings you back to the London, other than the new job?" I asked pulling the conversation away from how Paul and I had met.

"I decided I was tired of Scotland and I missed the rush of the city. And I just finalized a divorce and wanted to be surround by something all-consuming and familiar, where better than here?" she replied.

"So you and Jonathan…" I began to ask.

"We grew apart. We were never very similar to begin with and we just became more and more different," she says. "But let's not focus on that. I need to dash, but let's get together for dinner soon?"

"Of course!" I replied. "I'll call you. I'm sure I have a few open nights coming up next week…"

"But don't forget we're leaving for the weekend," Sherlock added from beside me.

"Are we?" I asked, pulling my attention from Mary and turning towards Sherlock.

"I thought it was the plan," he replied.

I tried to hide my annoyed looked and change it to a look of confusion. "I suppose I mixed up my weekends," I said turning back to Mary.

"I will see you soon!" she said before hugging me again and then walking in the direction of Barbican Station.

Once she was mostly out of sight, I turned back to Sherlock, letting the smile fall off of my face. "Can you also check with me before insisting on pulling me out of the city?" I asked, annoyance creeping into my voice.

"You have the weekend off, you won't have to call in sick," he said, an amusing smile pulling at his lips.

"I need to get back to work," I said reaching down to grab my bag.

"You're upset with me," He said.

"Obviously," I replied. "Will you be at the flat tonight?"

"Yes," he replied.

"It's your turn to pick up dinner. I'm sure you can deduce what I'd like. I'll be home 'round seven," I said before turning and walking away. I couldn't help but feel proud of myself for holding my ground and showing that, yes, Molly Hopper does have a backbone, most days.

As I walked outside of the hospital, it became apparent that I wouldn't be returning to my flat before seven.

"Molly Hooper," The woman standing beside a black town car said. I recognized her from Sherlock's funeral and from the few other times I had seen Mycroft. I assumed she was his assistant since she wasn't normally far from him. She also seemed to never look up from her phone. I quickly got into the car when she opened the door.

At least I had been expecting this, but I had hoped it could have waited until tomorrow at least.

"Where are we going?" I asked as she joined me in the back seat before the car began moving through London.

I didn't receive a response.

I must have dozed off, because I was being nudged away by the end of the woman's cell phone. Once my eyes were open, she quickly opened the door for me before leading the way into a posh-looking townhouse.

Once inside, I was ushered into a sitting room in the front of the home. Sitting with his back to me was Mycroft Holmes.

"Thank you for joining me, Dr. Hooper. Please, have a seat," he said without turning to face me. "Anthea, that will be all for now. Expect to escort Dr. Hooper back in half an hour."

"I don't know what you want me to tell you. He is, I presume, at my flat currently, unless he decided to leave for the cottage. I'd know if I had had a chance to go straight home from work," I said still standing near the doorway of the room.

"Dr. Hooper, we are not enemies in this, so you needn't take such a tone. You and I both are after the same thing, to ensure that my brother keeps himself alive," Mycroft said standing and turning in my direction. "Now, rather than taking a stance I would expect from him, please sit down, have a cup of tea and let's discuss what we plan to do."

"I don't know what there is to plan," I said as I reluctantly took a seat.

"My brother is determined to clear his name, and I intend to help him in any way I can because, while I hate to admit it, it is partially my fault for him being in the predicament," he said before preparing a cup for me. "He, for whatever reason, has decided that you are the only person in London he will willingly contact and because of that I will need your help in aiding my brother."

"Mycroft, I really can say that he won't take either of our help, offered or not, if he doesn't want it. Sherlock is an adult and a child all wrapped into one. If he is refusing your help, which I assume from what I've seen in the past isn't something new, I don't know how I can be of any help." I absently stirred the tea now in my hand.

"A transfer will be sent to your bank account at the beginning of each month; looking after my brother is not inexpensive," he said, changing the subject slightly.

"Are you paying me to look after your brother?" I asked looking up.

"Hardly, you would do so even if I didn't," he replied. "You love him. I don't know if you should trust my brother so blindly with your heart. He doesn't know how to handle it."

"I think… I think that is up to me to decide," I replied before setting my tea down. "I'm really sorry, but it's been a long day and if that is all, I'd like to go home," I said before standing.

"Thank you, Dr. Hooper," Mycroft said as I left the room, meeting Anthea in the hall. Without looking in my direction, she stood and lead the way to the door and then into the car.