This takes place between chapter 29 and 30 of Come to Grief. How did Sherlock move on from Oliver's death to a place where he could come to acceptance and deal with what had been done to him. It seems Oliver had more than just physical challenges in mind when Sherlock and Molly had been in his "care". What secrets have Sherlock been hiding from everyone and how will they deal with it when it comes to light. Sherlock is dealing with the aftermath and learning to cope as he moves forward towards redemption and healing.

Chapter 1

Day 0

"How do you catch a serial killer?"

"Same way you catch any other killer."

"No, no. But most killers kill someone they know. You're looking for a murderer in a tiny social grouping. Serial killers choose their victims at random. Surely that must make it more difficult."

"Some of them advertise."

"Do they really?"

"Serial killing is an expression of power, ego. A signature in human destruction. Ultimately, for full satisfaction, it requires plain sight. Additionally, serial killers are easily profiled. They tend to be social outcasts. Educationally sub-normal…"

"No, no, no, no, no. You're just talking about the ones you know. The ones you've caught. But, hello, dummy. You only catch the dumb ones."

Excerpt from the The lying detective

John walked down the stairs and entered the living area of the flat that he shared with Molly and Sherlock. It had been 8 months since the day that Sherlock first went missing. It's been 4 months since the day that the pair were rescued. 2 Months since Oliver's death. John was amazed how his world had now morphed into these chunks of time. How life was now defined by the new normal confronting them as Molly and Sherlock recovered physically and mentally from the deprivation and abuse they had experienced under Oliver. He knew that they still struggled with the aftermath of Oliver's conditioning.

It was a battle to make sure that Sherlock ate enough. To be honest, he was still slightly underweight. John and Molly had put things in place to make sure that Sherlock ate but it wasn't always easy. The pair had made huge strides with Dr Giles Hurst in addressing their nightmares and triggers but they were still present, just less visible. John was amazed that Sherlock still attended his sessions with Giles but he put it down to a genuine effort from the consulting detective to want to move past what the other man had done and to be better for Molly. It didn't always make it easy to be living with him.

There were times that Sherlock would lash out. He'd swing from a deep melancholy and quiet introspection to simmering annoyance and episodes of explosive anger. More than a few teacups have gone airborne lately. One just missed John's head when Sherlock had lost it because he couldn't find a solution for a particularly pesky cold case Lestrade had given him. Had complained loudly that Oliver's voice was too loud. That the man needed to shut up so he could think. Sherlock had locked himself in the bedroom afterwards. John and Molly had left him alone and he had only come out the next day.

Molly was quiet. More than usual. She'd settled back into somewhat of a routine at Barts. John knew Oliver had used her as his medical proxy for Sherlock when the consultant detective was hurt. She had once very briefly told him about fixing Sherlock up with nothing more than soap and towels. The haunting look in her eyes as she told what happened was enough to keep John up that night as he tried to not imagine what that had meant. He had seen Sherlock's scars. Knew that Oliver had hurt Sherlock in more ways than what had been said to him in that brief interlude at the hospital.

Cold, rainy days seemed to be the hardest to deal with. John was always hesitant to go out on a case with Sherlock on those days. It was when the flashbacks seemed more prevalent. Where Oliver's voice seemed to drown out any voice of reason for his friend. Between him and Molly and Giles they had worked on finding ways to help Sherlock. Those were also the days where danger for relapse was the highest. Sherlock had been open to Molly about the fact that he wanted to go look for oblivion. She had brought John in and together they worked on keeping him safe. Sherlock seemed to appreciate their effort even if he was belligerent, rude and obnoxious during those danger nights.

Giles had also given him some training in dealing with Sherlock when he has flashbacks or dissociates. How to help him stay grounded and be more mindful and present. It seemed to be working and John had been grateful for the other man's advice.

One thing he had learned early on after Oliver's death was that Sherlock now hated heights. It usually triggered a panic attack. Sherlock had not spoken about the why and Molly had been quiet about it. So, some crime scenes where tricky and Lestrade had become a lot more circumspect in when to call Sherlock in.

Most of the time, Sherlock spent his time on cold cases. It was just easier for now. He had yet to see new clients. Was adamant that he wasn't ready yet. John would occasionally ask Sherlock if he wanted to see the inbox. Left it when Sherlock declined. He had spoken to Giles about it. He'd thought it would really be helpful to help his friend keep busy. Giles had suggested he not push it. That it was important that Sherlock felt that he had control over aspects of his life. That Oliver had effectively stripped away Molly and Sherlock's choices. Had controlled every aspect of how they lived. What they did. What and when they ate. Whether they had basic necessities like soap, towels, bedding. They had to learn how to get their sense of agency back. If his choice was to not take clients, John should honour it.

"Why do you have to go?" Sherlock's voice could be heard from the bedroom. He sounded petulant. John knew that his friend was close to a full-blown tantrum. He braced himself as he stepped towards the bedroom.

"We've been over this, Sherlock. It's a great opportunity for me to go to this conference. I'll be able to meet some other pathologists from around the country and we'll be able to discuss new technology and the way it could be used to identify previous John and Jane Does. Do comparisons of cause of death. It has the potential to highlight similarities in the case of serial killers. It's only for two weeks."

"I should come with you."

"No. This is important, okay. I'll be safe, I promise."

John knocked on the lintel. Sherlock was standing by the window, his back to the room. His hands behind his back were clenched tight. Molly was closing a suitcase, latching it tight. She gave a warning look to John. She turned to Sherlock then, her hand on his arm. He allowed her to turn him, so that he was facing her.

"Sherlock, it'll be fine. I promise. Look, John's here." She said, her hand reaching up and cupping his face. "Be nice to him, Sherlock. Behave okay."

He gave a fleeting fake smile. "Oh goody."

"I mean it, Sherlock. Behave." Molly said sternly, giving him an open glare.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Fine."

Molly pulled his head down to hers and gave him a soft kiss. Stepped away from Sherlock. The consulting detective picked up Molly's case, stepping past John without looking at him as they moved into the living room.

"My taxi should be here in the next five minutes."

"I still think I should be going with you." Sherlock said. "Molly, please. I promise I'll behave."

"Sherlock…" Molly sighed. "…what will you do when you get bored?"

"Well, you know…solve crimes."

"At a pathology conference?"

"You do work with dead people, Molly. There's bound to be a crime."

She stepped closer to him. She took his hand in hers. Squeezed lightly. "It's just for 14 days. You can do this. I can do this. It will be good for us, okay. You understand?"

Sherlock's shoulders hunched and his head dropped. He turned from her, and looked out the window. John could see him visibly using the grounding techniques Oliver had taught Sherlock. Molly gave him space and a short time later, Sherlock turned back to face them. His face set.

"Fine."

All too soon, the taxi arrived. John stood beside Sherlock, watching as the car disappeared down the road. This was the first time that the pair had been separated since Oliver. John knew this was hard but it was a good thing too. Sherlock especially, needed to learn to cope without Molly being there constantly.

"Breakfast?" John said lightly, eying the other man that still hasn't moved from where he'd watched the car disappear.

"Mph." Sherlock mumbled. Head down, he trudged back inside and up the stairs. Went into his bedroom and slammed rather than shut the door.

"Sherlock…" John said, knocking on the door. A soft click of the lock engaging followed shortly after.

"How's he doing?"

"Sulking. He's locked himself in his room."

"John, maybe I should come back."

"No. Please don't, Molly. It'll be fine. I promise. He needs this. Enjoy your conference. I'll speak to Greg. Maybe we can get a nice, juicy case so he can focus on that. Get his mind off this, you know."

Molly sighed. "I know we spoke about this. It's still hard, you know."

John grimaced. "It'll be fine." He reiterated. He wasn't sure if it was for Molly's benefit or his own.

"I'm not so sure…"

"Molly, I promise I'll let you know if you need to come back."

"Fine. I'll text tonight when I'm settled. Make sure he eats, okay."

John gave a small chuckle. "Will do. Enjoy the conference."

John hung up. Stood in the kitchen, his fingers tapping on his leg as he contemplated his next steps. Sherlock's door was still stubbornly closed. His phone rang and he looked at the number. Frowned but answered all the same.

"Why is he still in his room?"

"Hello Mycroft."

"I can come by…"

"Please don't. He just needs to adjust…" John trailed off. "Wait. How do you know he's still in his room?"

Silence followed John's question.

"Where are they?" John asked.

"Living room. Sherlock knows about the cameras. It's for their safety."

"Bloody hell, Mycroft. You're worse than a stalker. Privacy…"

"There's no such thing when it comes to my brother, John. I'll keep an eye on Molly. I've assigned two agents to watch over her. They're part of the delegates at the conference. She'll never know."

"Seriously. You need to learn about boundaries, Mycroft. Oliver's dead."

"But Moriarty's not…"

"You said he's secure. That he won't escape."

"He's secure. It's not him I'm worried about. But we're in the process of dismantling his organisation. There might be repercussions…"

"You keep Molly and Sherlock out of it, Mycroft. You promised."

"I know." The other man gave a small sigh. "As ever with these things, John, there are those who are determined to make someone pay. My brother's name has come up a few times now with Moriarty's agents we've captured."

"Come up how?"

"Not in a good way, John."

John eyed Sherlock's closed door. "Do we need to be worried?"

"Not yet. I'm hoping that whatever is planned, can be contained."

"Do you want me to tell…"

"No. This stays strictly between us. They don't need to know. I'll do my best to keep the fallout as far away from Baker Street as possible."

"Fine. Don't make me regret not telling them."

"I'll do my best, John. Just make sure Sherlock eats. He looks worryingly gaunt these days."

John hung up and dropped his phone on the table. He stepped into the living room, hands on his hips as he eyed the room. Decided in the end to leave the cameras alone. He knew that he wasn't the only one still watching over Sherlock and Molly. Lestrade was more careful with securing crime scenes. Mycroft was a hovering presence.

All of them needed to let go, he thought. Allow Sherlock and Molly a bit of breathing space. But it was hard. He wanted to make sure that they weren't ever put in a situation like they had with Oliver. Couldn't phantom what it'd do if they did. Still remember Sherlock's empty chair for those four months that he'd been in Oliver's hands. His friend's flashbacks and panic attacks at the hospital. Molly's fear. They were still dealing with it in a minor capacity but it was a lot better. Sherlock had gotten very good at hiding his struggles. A hand signal was enough for John to help ground Sherlock when they were around London, working on cases. There were various methods they employed. John would talk about the weather. Touch his sleeve. Focus Sherlock into something minute and silly. It worked for them.

He went to Sherlock's door and knocked. "Hey mate…"

"Go away."

"Okay. I'm going to work."

Silence met his statement. He seriously contemplated calling in and making some excuse to not go in. Stood incisively in front of the door. In the end, he turned and left. Decided that he'd need to give Sherlock space to just work through his own emotions.

Molly placed her suitcase on the bed. It was a nice suite if she was honest. The room was spacious, the bathroom bigger than Sherlock's bedroom. The regal clawfoot bath looked inviting and she turned the hot water tap. She found even after four months after their return from Oliver, she still luxuriated in hot baths. It was something she had promised herself that she'd never take for granted. That, and the ability to eat every day would never be lost on her again.

She unpacked while the bath was filling, her mind going as always to Sherlock. She knew this would be hard for him. She had spoken to Giles about this when the conference had first come up from Mike. She had looked at the itinerary and it had drawn her interest immediately. The topics seemed compelling and the keynote speakers were all world renowned. It would be very good for her to be there. A good learning opportunity. She had discussed it with Sherlock, who had been silent throughout. It had barely been two months since Oliver's death. She understood it. Giles had quietly encouraged her to go. That a little distance would be good to re-establish a bit of mutual independence. That it wasn't such a bad thing. And here she was in an empty hotel room, feeling guilty.

She packed the suitcase into the bottom of the cupboard and went and checked on the bath. The ring on her finger clinked on the tap as she closed it. She smiled softly. It was plain gold, nothing fancy. But she treasured it. It meant more to her than any other possession she owned. It was Sherlock's promise to her that they'd made that night after their first kiss. She sat down on the side of the bath, suddenly unsure whether this separation had been such a good idea. Was in two minds whether to just go back home.

No. she thought. This is just for two weeks. We can do this.

She bathed, soaked for a good thirty minutes before finally getting out. Made her way to the bed and took up her phone.

Safe? SH

She smiled. Replied:.

Very. Door is locked. Had a nice bath. Bedtime. MH

Two weeks is too long. SH

14 Days. Why don't you make a chart and mark it down. MH

I'm not a child. SH

Okay. Fine. SH

What did you do today? MH

Been busy. SH

Did you come out of the room at all? MH

…

Bathroom doesn't count, Sherlock. MH

…

No. SH

Okay. Promise me you'll go out tomorrow. MH

…

Sherlock, promise. MH

Fine. Only for you Molly Hooper. SH

Molly sighed. Held the phone to her chest. It dinged again.

I love you. This is too hard. SH

I know. I love you too. 14 Days, Sherlock. MH

Fine. Sleep well, Molly Hooper. SH

Night Sherlock. MH

She plugged her phone in. Laid down and switched off the light. The bed was empty without Sherlock. It was truly hard not having him there.

It took a while for her to fall asleep.

The nightmares didn't go away.

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