Epilogue
New Scotland Yard officers milled about as they took pictures and statements outside of the old Keller building. Lights from police cars and an ambulance flashed over the scene as people gathered at the police tape, some of them pointing towards the front door of the building where Greg, John and Sherlock stood.
John glanced back at the small crowd. "Looks like your secret's out."
"Yes, only a matter of time before the press turns up," said Sherlock.
John looked back at him. "You ready for that, or should we make a discreet exit?"
"If I don't make a statement, they'll resort to witnesses," said Sherlock. "Donovan would love the chance to give an exclusive interview."
John winced. "Ooh, right."
"So, you're all back to normal," said Greg.
"Since when was I ever normal?" muttered Sherlock. He grimaced in disgust. "Horribly boring."
Greg and John laughed a little.
"But, yes, I am back," said Sherlock. "And perfect timing. I was starting to get bored."
"Oh, God forbid His Royal Highness get bored," mocked John.
"Amnesia boy run out of new things to discover?" laughed Greg.
"Well, you can take the mind out of Sherlock, but you can't take the Sherlock out of the mind," said John with a laugh as Greg joined in. He then glanced over to see Sherlock frowning in confusion at him. "What is it?"
Sherlock shook his head, apparently, completely bewildered. "Why… I can understand your behavior the last few weeks—I was recovering—but now…"
John frowned at him, not really sure what he had done.
"Why aren't you angry?" Sherlock asked.
"About what?" asked John.
"My having lied to you," said Sherlock.
John just stared at him, shaking his head. Why would he be angry over that?
"John, I forced you to watch me kill myself," said Sherlock emphatically. "I had fully intended to keep you in the dark about the whole thing until I had taken down Moriarty's network, which could have taken years. Why are you not angry? Why are you not punishing me?"
John's jaw dropped as he realized what he meant. Does he really think that I would be angry after all of this?
"Sherlock…" began John, "you were tortured…for a year…" He shook his head. "Believe me, that's more than punishment enough."
Sherlock stared at his friend, remembering the story John had told him of what he had gone through in Afghanistan. He looked to the ground and took a moment to absorb it all. "Thank you." He looked up at them. "Both of you. For everything."
"No thanks required," Greg told him as John nodded.
"No, really," said Sherlock. "I, erm…I suffered a trauma when I was younger, and…"
John and Greg glanced at each other, both thinking of the lost childhood friend Sherlock's memory had turned into a pet.
"It took a while for me to recover from that," Sherlock finished. "But to go through something like this…" He shook his head. "I don't know where I would be without you." He had directed that last phrase mostly at John, the friend who had been there the whole way.
John looked down at his feet. "Listen, about that…" He squirmed for a moment. "There's something I haven't asked before because it wasn't the right time to bring it up, but…" He glanced over at Greg and back at Sherlock. "When you were in that compound, did…" His eyes dropped from Sherlock's face, not wanting to hear the answer. "I mean, were…" He sighed and opened his mouth to spit it out.
"No," said Sherlock.
John looked up at him. "No?"
"Moriarty may have employed some of the worst scum in England, but it takes a special kind of monster to rape someone," Sherlock told him. "I was not sexually abused."
John released his held breath. "Oh, thank God."
"Small mercies," Sherlock muttered.
"Well, that's…good…" said John, nodding. He then cleared his throat after a moment. "So, Mrs. Hudson get to safety?"
Sherlock nodded once. "Mycroft's men reached her just in time."
"Good," said Greg.
"Sherlock!"
John glanced over to see Molly at the front of the crowd at the police tape. She was being held back by an officer, who was looking over at Greg for orders. Greg lifted his arm to wave her in as John looked back at Sherlock with a frown. For Sherlock had frozen when Molly had called his name. And as Greg waved Molly in, Sherlock turned to look at her, his eyes wide. As the officer lifted the yellow tape so Molly could enter, Molly was already ducking under it and running towards them.
"Molly…" said Sherlock softly. He then started walking swiftly towards her.
John looked at Greg and shared a frown with him before they looked back at their friends. Molly reached Sherlock only a few paces away from them and flung herself into his arms. Sherlock wrapped his arms around her as he planted a passionate kiss on her lips.
John didn't even hear the explosion of cheers, whistles and applause from the spectators beyond the police tape. He was too busy trying to pick his jaw back up off of the ground. He wasn't even able to comprehend what he was seeing. Sherlock and Molly were locked in an embrace, kissing as though they were two lovers who hadn't seen each other in…well, a year.
When had this happened?
John glanced over at Greg, who looked just as dumbstruck as he was.
Sherlock and Molly finally broke apart and hugged each other.
"I missed you so much," Molly told him.
"Me, too," Sherlock replied. "I'm sorry you thought I was dead."
"Don't be," Molly told him, pulling back just enough to look up at him. She placed her hand on the side of his face. "I just wish we had gotten you out of there sooner. The thought of what they did to you…" Tears started falling down her face.
"Molly…" Sherlock said softly, placing both his hands on her head, cradling her face, "I'm here now." He pulled her into a hug. "It's all over now."
John gave them a moment before he cleared his throat. Sherlock looked up at the two of them and then slowly eased away from Molly, giving her a smile as he wiped away her tears. He planted one more kiss to her forehead before he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and steered them both towards their friends.
"So…" said John.
Sherlock nodded. "Yes, Molly and I are in a relationship."
"W…" began John. "How… When did this happen?"
Sherlock raised his eyes as they narrowed in thought. "Oh…five hours before the rooftop, was it?" He looked down at Molly next to him.
Molly nodded, blushing under John's and Greg's gazes. "Apparently, it was a long time coming, though." She smiled up at Sherlock.
"This is why you were so calm when Molly visited, isn't it?" asked John.
Sherlock nodded. "Although I had no actual memory of her, there was just something about her that calmed my mind." He smiled at Molly. "And now, I know why." He looked back at John. "Looks like you were wrong, John."
"Wrong about what?" asked Molly as John rolled his eyes.
"He asked me if the two of you had been in a relationship," said John. "He could have sworn he remembered something like that. I told him you weren't."
"Oh, pity," said Molly with a smile. "That would've been the perfect time to surprise you all."
"Oh, I don't know," said Sherlock. "I think it turned out quite perfect."
"So, this is serious between you two?" asked Greg, his eyes still wide.
"You should know by now, Inspector," said Sherlock. "I never do anything halfway."
John chuckled. "True."
Flashes of light reached them, and they all glanced over to see reporters and camera crews pushing to the front of the crowd.
"Is that how you knew?" asked Sherlock.
Molly nodded. "I saw some internet posts that you were here, and I knew you would only be here if you remembered, so…"
Sherlock looked over at John. "I suppose it's time to go be Sherlock Holmes again."
John nodded. "Long time coming."
Sherlock looked down at Molly. "I'll make it quick. Then we can finally go to that dinner I promised." He leaned down and gave Molly another long kiss.
John smiled and let his gaze wander before they stuck on a truly hilarious sight. He chuckled a little.
Sherlock looked over at him with a question in his eyes. "Problem, John?"
John waved his hand to excuse himself. "Sorry. It's just…I think you finally broke them." He gestured past them.
Sherlock and Molly turned to see Donovan and Anderson standing at the ambulance, Donovan looking like she was having a stroke and Anderson looking like he couldn't decide what to be more shocked about: Sherlock Holmes alive or Sherlock Holmes kissing a woman.
Sherlock smiled as he looked back at John. "Mm. Bonus." He looked down at Molly. "Get us a table? I'll meet you in fifteen."
Molly smiled and gave him another kiss before walking away, her fingers lingering on his.
Sherlock watched her go for a minute before looking at John. "Shall we?"
Sherlock and John made their escape as the officers held the reporters back.
"That went better than I thought it would've," said John.
"Luckily, the wounds on my face have practically healed," said Sherlock.
"That would've made an attractive front page," muttered John. "'Sherlock Holmes: Back From the Dead in Style.'"
Sherlock chuckled as John laughed. After a moment, Sherlock's smile widened a little, and he shook his head as he gave another laugh.
John smiled. "What is it?"
"All that time, people believed me to be dead, and in a way, I was," said Sherlock.
"Yeah…" said John, nodding. "Not a physical death but a mental one." A phrase from an old movie popped into his head, and he chuckled. "A death of a different color."
There was a long pause as they walked.
"That's a good line, John," said Sherlock.
John looked over at him, frowning. "Sorry?"
"I always complain about the romantic drivel in your blog, but that was actually one of your better lines," said Sherlock.
John's frown deepened as he stopped and turned to him. "That wasn't my line, Sherlock."
Sherlock gave a frown of his own. "It wasn't?"
"No," said John. "Horse of a different color…"
Sherlock's frown persisted.
"Practically made famous by The Wizard of Oz…" continued John.
"Wizard of who?" asked Sherlock.
"Oh, never mind," muttered John, turning and walking away from him.
Sherlock caught up after a moment. "Is that part of the ridiculous Harry Potter nonsense?"
"Forget it, Sherlock," John told him as they continued down the road.
THE END