A/n: First- This hasn't been beta'd, so apologies for any errors. Second, I must admit that this has been written for ages but I just haven't had time to look over it again. Life has been busy and so this story was put on in definite hold. However, there are still two or three chapters to go after this one, but each will be written as a stand-alone so that whatever span of time passes in between, the wait wont be as mysterious. A HUGE thank you to everyone who has followed this since the beginning and to those who have discovered it since. I hope it was worth the wait!
Someone I Used to Know
Chapter 10
Eight months later
As I woke up I felt the familiar feeling of one of Sherlock's expensive dress shirts under my cheek.
"Why are you fully dressed in bed?" I mumbled, moving one hand to run my eyes as I tried to wake up more while fighting the urge not to move from my comfortable position. However this was the first time I had woken up beside Sherlock in nearly three weeks.
As our relationship progressed in the past months, he had begun spending more and more time in London, however he had left suddenly three weeks ago without a word since with the exception of two short texts, the most recent had come two days ago and simply read 'safe'.
"I'm not sleeping. I got in an hour ago," he replied as I moved slightly to take his appearance in. he was lying beside me slightly propped up with his cell phone in one hand and his other wrapped around my waist. "I will need to see the body of Martin Johnson when you get to work."
"It's my day off," I said resting my head back on his chest. "My first in two weeks."
It had become a habit in of mine in the past few months to only take on extra shifts when Sherlock was away, rather than before when I use to take every shift available simply because I preferred working over being alone in my flat most days.
"I sent your boss a text a half hour ago and arrange for you to take a short morning shift today," He replied still not look away from his phone's screen.
"You didn't think to consult me?" I ask now pulling away from him and sitting up. "You've been gone for nearly three weeks with just two brief texts saying you are safe and no other word on when you will be back. Now you are and rather than even saying good morning, you have arranged for me to go into work – on my day off!"
"Good morning," He said leaning slightly to kiss my check, originally aiming for my mouth but my turned head prevented him. "Martin Johnson isn't the man's real name. His real name is Alden Moran, the brother Sebastian Moran, Moriarty's former right hand and now the soon to be former head of one of the world's largest criminal networks. I need to see the body to confirm the identity. This will bring Sebastian out into the public. He is the last key to the puzzle of Moriarty."
"So this is what you've been working towards?" I asked moving into a sitting position so that I could get a better view of Sherlock while we had the discussion. Eternally I was fighting, and losing, the battle between being intruded by the latest development and wanting to be annoyed with him.
"I'm nearly there. By bringing Moran to the public attention, which will happen through solving this murder, it will then be made easy to link him to a man called Richard Brook, the actual real name of James Moriarty," Sherlock responded. "James Moriarty was always a made up person, it was the named Richard used to cover up his tracks once he stumbled upon the criminal underworld. It also made it far easier for him to then cover up his tracks when he framed me."
The autopsy was straight forward, or as straight forward as any autopsy Sherlock would be interested in could be. The short morning shift turned into the afternoon and by seven that evening I was finally wrapping up all of the tests I had set that could be completed that day. After carefully copying the file, I stuffed it into my bag and grabbed my umbrella and left in the direction of my flat.
As I made my way to the doors, I was stopped by a beep from my phone. Expecting a text from the ever impatient Sherlock, I quickly pulled the phone out of my pocket before noticing a text from Mary.
Call immediately! -MM
Pausing, I decided the best route was to hurry home and hand off the information to Sherlock before calling Mary.
"MOLLY!" Mary shouted as she picked up the call. "I'm engaged!" she exclaimed without missing a beat. "Why did it take you so long to call!"
"Mary, that's fantastic!" I responded as I turned on the couch to see if Sherlock was paying attention. Unfortunately, he had disappeared from the spot he had been mere seconds ago when I had placed the call, most likely going into his room to go over the papers I had just brought home.
"Mol, everything was just perfect. We had a lovely dinner, went for a walk in St. James Park and right on the bridge, you know how much I love that spot, he proposed! Naturally after a few moments of shock I said yes, and it was like a movie, everyone around us started clapping and it was just fantastic!" she was barely stopping to breath.
"And we've decided to not wait long, so this is your official invitation for you and your plus one to attend the wedding of Mary Morstan and John Watson, next Saturday afternoon at the Marylebone Registry Office! We'll set up a reception somewhere close afterwards!" Her excitement was infectious and I couldn't keep the smile off my face.
"I suppose you are in luck, it's my day off tomorrow so it will be perfect to go and look for a dress!" I replied, not being able to help my mind drifting to my own white dress hanging at the back of my closet, unworn.
"Wonderful!" She replied. "I should go, but we have so much to discuss tomorrow!"
"Congrats!" I said happily as we ended the call.
I paused briefly before deciding to tell Sherlock immediately. After all, how often did someone's best friend become engaged? And I knew, no matter how interesting he found the autopsy report, he would be thrilled for John.
The room designated as Sherlock's study and miniature lab isn't a room I frequent in the flat. It was purely his domain and I tried to only venture in when asked or when the smell of something inside began to seep into the hallway.
The door was ajar and so I nudged it open to find him sitting at the desk beside the door reading through the file I had just given him.
"He finally proposed," He said before I could say anything.
"They've set the date for next weekend," I replied.
"He's had the ring for the past month. I noticed him checking to make sure it was still in his pocket the last time we had dinner with them," Sherlock said.
"Will everything be done before then?" I asked, not needing to specify that I meant his uncovering of the truth.
"Nearly, but my name will hardly be cleared enough for me to attend officially as Sherlock Holmes. No matter my public reputation, there will still be the fleeing from arrest charges against me to get rid of before I can fully return to my normal life," He replied. "However, by next month's end I expect to have everything wrapped up and have my name and reputation completely cleared."
"Unofficially, can we tell them?" I asked. It had been a conversation we had had before. I knew from the very little information he shared, that he had had to reveal his true identity more than once and in the underground criminal world it was known that Sherlock Holmes was still alive. The most obvious sign of this was the phone booth near Bart's, besides the building he had jumped off of. However for what I assumed was both of our protection and others around us, he was typically careful to not reveal the persona he was living as in London. Only in rare cases, such as our trip to Spain did he travel under the name of Paul Cross. Mycroft, or at least his employees, had created a variety of aliases for Sherlock to take during the past year.
"He won't be very happy with me," Sherlock said, finally looking up from the paperwork in his hands. "Can we discuss this after your trip with Mary tomorrow? I should have this portion of everything completed and from there it will be a waiting game for the reporter I've sent all of the appropriate information to truly accept it as truth and verify it."
It was odd, sometimes if I didn't pay attention to what we were actually talking about, I could almost be convinced we were having conversations like normal adults who weren't trying to hide huge secrets from the world around them or trying to topple world wide crime sydnicates.
"Coffee?" He asked before turning back to the papers in his hands.
And sometimes things were exactly as they had been. At least the request was now asked as a question.
That night, as I tried to fall asleep on my own, Sherlock was still engrossed in the paperwork I had brought home as well as the other information he had recently gathered, I couldn't stop my mind from wondering what life would be like once Sherlock went back to being Sherlock. Could I make myself believe that not much would change? Especially between the two of us? No matter how much our relationship had progressed in the past few months, from fake relationship to real relationship, it was hard to fully accept that at least that part would stay the same no matter what name Sherlock publicly went as. Would he continue to live here or would he return to Baker Street? Would I stay in this large flat on my own or be on my own to find a new flat to live in?
As these concerns worked their way across my mind I heard the bedroom door slowly open and the sounds of Sherlock as he moved around the room undressing.
"I can hear you in the other room," he said lying beside me.
"I'm sorry," I replied. The brilliant man beside me, while typically clueless on the causes of my moods knew which mood I was in at any time, normally without even being in the same room as me. We stayed silent, simply lying beside each other for some time.
"After… after everything is fixed and you are back to truly being you, what happens then? Do… do things go back to how they were prior, will I just be your pathologist again?" I asked the questions that were floating through my mind.
"Hardly. While, I'd prefer to return to Baker Street, I suppose you could keep the flat if that is what you really want. However with John gone from Baker Street his room can be converted into my study so that the kitchen can be used – by you," Sherlock responded beside me.
"Are you asking me to move with you again?" I asked turning on to my side to see the outline of him in the dark room.
"Mrs. Hudson has never been overly found of pets, but I'm certain I'll be able to convince her to allow Toby," He added.
"Can you ask me normally?" I responded, trying and failing to keep the smile off of my face.
"I already know your answer," He replied. I could hear him rolling his eyes.
"I'm aware, but I'd still like you to ask," I sighed.
"Molly, will you move into Baker Street with me once I have officially cleared my name?" He asked turning his head in my direction.
"Of course," I replied, closing the distance between us.