Author's Note: So it looks like I'm continuing this huh? Good, I'm quite excited about this story! :D I'm a major Sherly fan and I can't wait to hear what you thought about all of this! So like I promised, I brought up some things and introduced some things to this brand new series! XD

First things first however, I want to thank my reviewers! All 10 of you :D I love you! So here's to you!

Vanya Caladwen: God, I really love you, you know that? XD Of course you do! I'm so glad you've enjoyed the movie and the prologue, one of these days I'm taking you to see SH2! It's as good as the first, I would say, except for the beginning… But I'm not going into it… So you better not be reading this because there's many spoilers up ahead!

Irenlock Forever: My first anonymous reviewer on this story! :D Awesome! You're a big fan of Irene and Sherlock? Guess what? Me too! Haha but I'm also a fan of… well I'm not going to tell you because that would ruin my story lol. Maybe I will, maybe I won't, only time will tell.

Sherlock Lover: Hey I'm in love with old Sherly too ;) Who isn't for God's sake? I'm flattered by your review. Seriously! I'm not even kidding, I'm not sure I'm the best writer there is but thank you for saying so. Yes, I'm trying to make things suspenseful for all of you out there, many cliffies coming your way!

The Sock That Never Stays Orange: Hello you! You also better not be reading this because of spoilers ahead, only the prologue was safe ;) Just think, four more days! I can't wait to hear what you think! :) Thanks for all of the PMs and I cannot wait for even more! All of the quotes were my own, they were the woman's thoughts and I came up with them while listening to the SH soundtrack naturally ;) I'm glad you're not wary of me, I love you too much! XD Thank you!

easy keeper: Thank you for your review! :D Yes I apologize for the confusion in the beginning but I promise it was crucial to the story. Keep on reading and you won't be!

WriterMonkey0626: I'm so glad I did! That was certainly my intent! :) I'm sorry it's so confusing but I promise it was crucial to the story. Keep on reading and you won't be! XD

Lady Nostariel: You don't happen to the same Nostariel as my good friend from the website Islands of Life? Maybe? Sorry if you're not, that's kind of awkward. Annnnyyyywaaaayyyy…. I'm so glad you've enjoyed it so far! I'll keep on writing for ya! XD

Aranelle Caladwen: Hello to you too! I'm so glad you've enjoyed it so far but you better not read any more until you've seen both movies! Promise? ;) And yeah I hate autocorrect.

Daughter of the Dead Man: Love the name! XD Kind of like the woman in my story… That's prolly what you were going for. And maybe it is, maybe it isn't, you'll have to keep reading and see ;) Thank you so much!

Izzy: You don't even deserve a response lol ;) Thank you!

So now that that's done, I'm here to introduce a new segment to my Sherly fics. Without further ado, I'm proud to present…. SHERLOCK SIGHTINGS! Lol I couldn't think of any other name, but this is little things throughout my day that remind me of our favorite detective. If you have your own Sherlock sightings, let me know in a review and I'll post it here next chappie.

So I was out to dinner with my parents and our waiter's name was Tony Holmes. I literally started freaking out in the middle of the restaurant, it was like Robert Downey Jr. It's Tony Stark (Iron Man) and Sherlock Holmes combined. It was pretty great…. - Zenna :D

I was watching the news tonight and they were advertising Late Night shows. They were saying that Late Night with David Letterman tomorrow night featured Robert Downey Jr. and I died. Needless to say, I DVRed it ;) - Zenna (again) :D

Okay next order of business… I have not chosen a theme song for this series yet ;( Sorry folks, I've been a little busy… If you have any suggestions, please feel free to let me know.

Finally, know where the title came from? ;) If you do, let me know and you'll get cookies! The edible kind of course ;)

Oh yeah and there's a ton of AGOS spoilers so you've been warned!

I think that's it for now! Please, I beg you with all of my heart to read and review! You'll feel better for it! I love hearing from you! I love you all!

~ Zenappa :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock Holmes unfortunately, that's the one thing I didn't get for Christmas… Poop nuggets. I try not to let it get to me lol.

Sherlock Holmes: The Dark Before Dawn

Chapter 2: Be Prepared

It had gotten dark very quickly. After the light snow and rain from last night, morning had come all too fast. Because it was nearing the end of December, the days were getting shorter and shorter. Light would come early on in the morning and then slowly fade by high noon, it didn't last long at all. The streets were still busy until the late afternoon yes, but things slowly got more complicated as the year progressed. Children weren't outside as much as they were before and mothers worried more than ever because of the upcoming holiday season. Wreaths were hung outside the doors and trees were bustled inside quickly, as if they didn't want anyone else noticing. The poor were slowly maddening as the cold got to them and the rich didn't want anything to do with them. Fathers worked later hours to keep up with all of the city's excitement and families were gathered less and less until the actual holidays hit. But all in all, there was one thing that kept the people moving.

News.

Everyone looked forward to knowing the news of the day. They wanted to know the latest happenings around the town, what was going on and who did what. It was a tradition for them to get the morning newspaper and read it, it was packed with informational happenings and was helpful to know what was going around in London. So in every way, the news kept people going through the day.

Now more than ever.

The news helped people get over their grief, it helped them learn, it helped them realize the true meanings of the town, and it even helped them to understand a few things. All of a sudden, about a year ago, the news started to get more interesting. Every day the cover story was something actually interesting and the inside of the pages weren't filled with junk. While the obituaries were growing for some odd reason, the rest of the newspaper was too. It wasn't the same anymore, it changed for the better.

Take today for example. The cover page had everyone reminiscing of the past year's events; it had everyone all in a tizzy. For the cover page had a picture of none other than Sherlock Holmes. The title said "Holmes Spotting" and went on to explain how the detective had inspired many other people to take on the profession themselves. For people reading the newspaper, it brought back many memories of last year and how solemn they had been. But they had gotten through it; somehow they adjusted back to their normal lives eventually.

If you flipped to the inside of the newspaper, past the picture of Holmes and the cover story, you'll find a story about the wonderful Dr. John Watson and his adventures with Holmes as well as his successful doctoring events. There was a picture of him as well, leaning over a balcony looking grave and depressed. There was a section that mentioned that over the past year, despite his recent marriage, how much the good doctor had changed. It was appalling to see how one death can change an entire man's life. The newspaper mentioned how he's no longer looking for any more cases and how he will leave that up to the "new Holmeses" as he called them in the article.

Then if you turned the newspaper to the obituaries, you would find a large picture of Irene Adler along with the details of her funeral. They just recently discovered her body and immediately placed it in a casket without any other thoughts and started to work on the funeral arrangements. Since she had no family left, Mrs. Hudson, the nanny of the empty and old 221B Baker Street house, offered to pay because she had taken such a liking to Holmes. She felt bad that tragedy had to occur so close to one another and therefore would arrange the funeral.

Flipping the newspaper yet again, there was another article that read "Danger Never Sleeps" along with a picture of a raven-haired woman with a gun who seemed to be causing mayhem around the town. It was odd to see such a pretty woman go so bad and resort to doing things like this. It went to explain that if you saw her, make sure to stay out of her way for she is a very dangerous criminal.

There was also an ad towards the back of the newspaper about a young gypsy's new location. Madame Simza's had now moved to a new location on Baker Street, closer to the center of town than her last location in a club.

In addition, there was another ad that explained that the rich man living not far from the busy city of London was looking for help to get his mansion cleaner than before. If there were any questions, contact Mycroft Holmes.

There were also many small articles in the back of the newspaper. There was one about how the madman Moran was still on the loose a year after his boss's death. There was another about the wonderful antics of Lestrade and how everyone respected him even more now after last year's events. There was another one still explaining the wonderful details of the marriage of Mary and John Watson.

You see, a newspaper told many things to the public of the town. It was popular for a reason, it was popular because it told what people needed to hear. Still, the newspaper would be folded up each morning and delivered to the people who wanted it and had a subscription. Every morning, everyone expected to see that white bundle of papers at their doorstep. It was a tradition of sorts, and even so, it was special to some people.

The newspaper wasn't just printing the facts, it was printing the truth.

Despite all of the bustling outside, one man sat inside his study, staring at his typewriter like it was the last thing he had. In a way, it was. That typewriter and the contraption lying next to it was his last connection to his old life; he hadn't been the same man he was before, he wasn't the same man he was a year ago. Everything had changed and the man still hadn't gotten over the events of the previous year yet. It was getting to the point of insanity.

To get his mind off of something else, he opened up this morning's newspaper and groaned when he saw the cover of the front page. He really didn't want to read this anymore, even the article about himself… especially the article about himself. He didn't want to wallow in the past anymore, he wanted to do something for a change. He needed to get over himself, but sadly, he knew that wouldn't be happening anytime soon. He placed the newspaper back down on his desk and rubbed his temple vigorously. It was a troubling time indeed, he thought while sighing to himself.

It's been a year. One year of sadness, one year of agony, one year of confusion, one year of loneliness. If it wasn't for Mary, I think I might have killed myself by now.

The man sighed again and continued to stare around the room. He swiveled around in his chair to look out the window behind him and he looked down at all of the people below him, enjoying their day in London. He held his head in his hands and closed his eyes. Every day was a reminder of things that he could have prevented, every day was a sharp pain ripping through his chest, every day was just pure agony for the poor doctor. He glanced up, looking up at the darkening sky and shook his head. He tried to force himself to listen to his brain and accept the consequences of his actions. That it really wasn't his fault at all, that he couldn't have done anything, that it wouldn't have changed a thing. But he knew that really wasn't the case at all.

He turned his chair back around and sighed once more, taking deep breaths in an effort to calm himself down. He stared at the typewriter once more, half-hoping that the more he looked at it, the more it would make sense. That simple punctuation mark affected his life for around ten months now, it was shortly after the previous year's events that things started happening to him. He resisted the effort to bang his head on the desk and cry quietly to himself; he couldn't start that now, it was unthinkable. His fingers hovered over the typewriter as if he wanted to add something but he took them away, not being able to touch what was put there. He remembered the day like it was yesterday. He had just finished his latest and last adventure story when Mary had brought in a strange package for him. Upon opening it, his insides flared with excitement and he quickly descended the stairs, questioning Mary about the postman and what he looked like. She quickly dispelled all thoughts that it was his dear old friend and had reassured him that he was just going through grieving phases. He had trudged back upstairs disappointedly to find that at the end of his story a simple question mark had been added. Someone had been in his room and he thought he knew who it was. But there had been no other signs since and his hopes had been fading ever since. Now, they were almost all gone.

But he was still here, wishing and hoping that the facts were wrong. He was still here, staring at that little phrase that almost changed his life.

The End?

I had gotten my hopes up when I saw the package come in the mail, the oxygen contraption. Even more when I saw that question mark added to the end of my last novel, but that was ten months ago and there's been nothing ever since.

The man got to his feet reluctantly, not wanting to tear his eyes off of the typewriter. He hadn't had the heart to take the piece of paper out, it had gotten all dusty sure but he half-hoped that that certain person would come back and leave more clues. He sighed and rubbed his temples once more before stumbling over to the front of his desk.

He gathered up the darts that were lying on the corner of his desk in his study and studied one. Oh how he wished he had more hints and clues but there had been nothing for ten months and he was slowly going crazy. It was getting to the point of moral insanity. He simply could not take it anymore. Without thinking, he threw the dart at the wall, trying to aim at the dartboard that was positioned accordingly but he missed and stuck the wallpaper lying on the wall lazily. He cursed to himself and chucked another, hoping to have more luck. None. He hit the dartboard this time but only the very edges. He swore again, making sure to keep it quiet or he'd never hear the end of it, and threw another angrily. This one strayed even farther than the first and landed near the corner of the room. He rolled his eyes and threw the last two in a row, angrier than ever. They both landed in the middle of the dartboard, finally making a bulls eye. This didn't make him as happy as it should have however, the poor man was still grieving a year after the events.

"DAMN YOU HOLMES!" he shouted, shaking his fist.

He sighed and didn't do anything else. A moment later, he was disturbed once more. A knock came softly on the door and a woman entered, looking concerned.

"John?" she asked anxiously. "Is everything alright?"

Dr. John Watson turned to face his wife and sighed. He knew he couldn't lie to his wife but he didn't want to bother her with his misery and troubles and woes.

"Fine dear," he replied.

"You're obviously not fine," she stressed, playing with her golden locks tied up in a bun. "What's the matter?"

"Memories is all," came Watson's response, not admitting to anything.

"I understand," Mary Watson entered the room farther and walked up to her husband. "You're thinking of him. But you must understand that he's gone and you must move on, you can't stay locked up here forever. He wouldn't want this for you."

Watson knew his wife was right but he couldn't bring himself to do anything else regarding the topic. He would never ever move on, no matter what happens.

"How did you know?" Watson questioned, frowning and rubbing his head.

"I heard you swearing and throwing darts at the wall and I figured you must be grieving," she answered solemnly.

The doctor nodded once and turned his back to his wife, he couldn't let her know how much it hurt. Their friendship meant everything to him and now what? It was just gone.

"Well actually," admitted Mary, rubbing her husband's shoulders. "There's someone here who wants to see you."

Watson pivoted back around and frowned, "A client?"

"No, he says he's an old friend," she said, kissing Watson lightly on the lips. "Now clean yourself up and head downstairs."

Watson's mind spun wildly. An old friend? Could it be? He didn't even bother to make himself look presentable. He simply tore down the stairs after his wife and stopped in the living room where the surprising guest was.

"Lestrade?" questioned Watson, feeling his hopes undoubtedly sink. "What are you doing here? I didn't even know you still worked in London!"

"Don't you ever read the paper Doctor?" Inspector Lestrade smiled at his old partner in investigations. "Especially after last year, I wouldn't leave."

It was all Watson could do to nod in polite response.

"I'm afraid I've come with personal news rather than business," he continued without a second thought.

"Business?" Watson interjected. "My good fellow, I don't take cases anymore, not without-"

The doctor broke off, not wanting to bring up the touchy subject. Especially not in front of his old friend and old partner supposedly…

Lestrade coughed once, "Well anyway, I'd thought you'd like to know that 221b is about to go on the market to be sold."

Watson stumbled backwards in shock, "What?"

"Well you see, Mrs. Hudson needs to rent it out in order for her to keep the apartment," the inspector explained carefully.

"But what of his things? They were his pride and joy!" Watson quickly protested.

"I understand Doctor," Lestrade nodded. "But sadly, unless you were to buy it, there's nothing you can do."

"Thank you Lestrade," he clapped the inspector on the shoulder and pulled on his coat. "I must be going now, feel free to stay with Mary for a cup of tea."

Without another glance backwards, Watson tore out the front door and ran down the streets of London to his old apartment.

Upon reaching the beloved 221b Baker Street apartment, he sighed, taking in the memories that came with the house. He walked up to the front door and pushed it open, surprised to see that it was still unlocked. He sauntered into the open apartment and looked around the foyer. It still looked the same as his last visit almost a year and a half ago.

"I'm sorry we're not available for showings right now," came a voice towards the back of the apartment, near the kitchen.

Watson's throat caught as he recognized the voice and he hurried into the other room. He appeared in the kitchen doorway not a moment later, drinking in the sight of his old home. He caught a sight of an older lady cooking at the stove, her back to the kind doctor.

"I told you, we're not open right now!" repeated the lady a little more harshly.

"Mrs. Hudson?" asked Watson, his eyes shining with a sparkle that hadn't been in there in quite some time.

The landlady herself spun around, surprised herself, and her hands flew to her mouth in shock.

"Doctor Watson?" she questioned, and then immediately ran over to the man and hugged him around the waist.

"Hello Mrs. Hudson," Watson chuckled. "I heard you were putting the apartment for sale once again."

Mrs. Hudson pulled away flustered and nodded sadly, "I'm terribly sorry John, but I had to! How else am I supposed to make money? And with sponsoring that poor girl's funeral?"

Watson nodded understandingly, "Can I go upstairs and-"

He broke off for the second time that day and bit his lip. He needed to see a few things, he needed to comfort himself as well as the beast that lay inside his heart.

"Of course," Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. "Anything for you Doctor."

Watson gave a weak smile and headed up the stairs towards his old home.

Reaching three hours later, Watson descended the stairs, his steps still full of sadness. His eyes were red and puffy, almost as if the doctor was crying. He still favored his uninjured leg still with his cane and his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. He spent his time in his friend's old room, looking through some of his most treasured belongings. He didn't want to move much but he took some of his old friend's beloved things. He had stuffed them in his briefcase carefully and would put them in a safe place at his new house. Mrs. Hudson met him at the bottom of the stairs and gave him another hug.

"Can you do me a favor?" Watson asked, looking down at the wonderful landlady.

"Of course! What is it?" Mrs. Hudson questioned.

"Don't let anyone touch his things until the house is sold," Watson made the landlady promise.

Mrs. Hudson nodded, wide-eyed, "I wouldn't dream of it."

Watson gave another ghost of a smile and headed out the door, sadness filling every inch of his being until he stumbled into the doorway of his current house. Mary was waiting for him, he could tell, he just simply knew these things. He walked slowly into the kitchen where she was sitting at the kitchen table with her hands folded together neatly and worriment written all over her face. She jumped to her feet as soon as she saw her husband in the doorway.

"John!" she exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

He grimaced, avoiding her question, "I'm sorry I ran out on you, I had to see for myself. I had to know if it was true, I had to-"

Mary cut him off by pressing her lips to his. When they broke apart, Mary smiled encouragingly at her husband.

"It's okay John dear," she said with a smile. "Whatever you need to do, we all miss him too. But this is something I realize you need to do on your own."

Watson nodded and relaxed against the table for support. He needed it as well as his wife, he needed the comfort and the relaxation. Otherwise, he wasn't sure what he was going to do.

"I'm here for you," added Mary, placing her delicate hand on top of his.

He tried to give a genuine smile to his wife, showing that he cared for her, but it didn't really work out. It ended up coming out as a forced grin and she laughed predictably.

The laughter ended abruptly however when a sudden gun shot was heard from outside on the streets. This was followed by a bunch of screaming and a few people cackling. Mary looked at Watson in fear and he pushed her behind himself in protection. He grabbed his walking stick or cane or whatever he felt like calling it at that moment. He knew that there was a knife concealed in it and that would be all he could do right now. He walked forward cautiously, something wasn't right.

Watson tried to convince himself that it was just a single shot that was an accident but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something bad was going on. There hadn't been any trouble in about a year, the same time as the other tragic events. And now this? It couldn't be a coincidence. He fretted in his mind and he hurried outside to see what the commotion was. To his dismay, Mary followed him out.

"Stay inside!" he warned his wife. "It could be dangerous."

"I'd rather accompany you than have you be out here all alone," she stated, cocking an eyebrow.

"Stay behind me," he added as an afterthought when he realized that he wasn't going to change Mary's mind.

They watched frightened as the streets cleared out of the way as another gunshot was heard. They looked at one another in even more fear as a group of shadows emerged from around the corner. As the lead came into view, both husband and wife gasped but for different reasons.

Mary gripped her husband's arm, "John, I've read about her in the paper!"

But Watson barely heard her.

"My God," was all he could choke out as he realized the identity of the one responsible for this mayhem.

A/N: It's quite hard writing for Lestrade, sorry if he's OOC. I don't think I got him quite right. Oh well, you win some and you lose some. Let me know what you think about the characters…

Oh and sorry for the cliffie lol…. Not too bad actually…

REMEMBER TO READ AND REVIEW! XD Thank you and I love you all! :)))))))))))