AN: Hi, thanks for the views and the follows. I plan on updating once a day, so hopefully you won't get bored.
February 12th 2012
I know, it's been nearly a week since my last entry, but I've not really done much worth writing about. Just been going over it all in my head, over and over again, trying to make sense of what happened on that rooftop. It drives me crazy not knowing. So it was a bit of a relief today when Molly called asking me to lunch. I hadn't seen her since before, wasn't sure how it would go, but I didn't hesitate in going. Something in the way she said she wanted to talk to me. I could tell something was up, and it made my heart race. Made me feel alive again. Just like when Sherlock would say 'could be dangerous', knowing I wouldn't be able to resist.
We arranged to meet on her lunch break, a little café round the corner from Bart's, but not within view of Bart's. Thoughtful of her. I went early, to a café over the road waiting until I saw her to go over. Well it could have been Mycroft, I've been ignoring all the cars he tried sending to get me, I wouldn't put it past him to enlist someone like Molly to trick me into meeting with him. But it wasn't him, just Molly.
We made small talk for a bit. It was quite nice. She was obviously concerned about me, asking if I was sleeping okay, getting enough to eat etc. I felt a bit bad for lying to her, but I didn't want her to worry.
The subject of Sherlock was broached awkwardly, I couldn't help it, I just had to check, I needed to know she still believed in him. She told me she rarely went to funerals, she got to say her own goodbyes in the morgue. And she was very quick to assert that she didn't believe what the papers said, that she'd known him to long, seen him do too much to doubt. And, as she reminded me, she knew Moriarty, knew what an accomplished actor he was, but not the one he was pretending to be. Then she gave me some rather shocking news. Moriarty had disappeared from the morgue. Disappeared or escaped I wonder. Molly's uncertain, she admitted the body hadn't really been examined yet, but didn't see how it could have been faked. And that made me wonder, but Molly saw it in my eyes. She shook her head and gave my arm a comforting squeeze. I think somehow the confirmation from Molly made it more final than the funeral. I held it together though.
Strangely the news about Moriarty's body made it easier. It's a new lead in the case, a case that I owe it to Sherlock to solve. And, if Moriarty is alive, then maybe, if I can find him, I can have my revenge. I can make him suffer for whatever he did. That thought is a beacon of light to me, a purpose. After the war, I had felt so lost, so lacking purpose and direction on my return. And then Sherlock came along and gave me a new purpose. When Sherlock died I thought it had died with him, but now I see that this is where my whole life has been leading me. Being a soldier taught me fight, being friends with Sherlock has given me a cause worth fighting for. Worth dying for if I have to.