Author's Note: Hello again! The format has slightly changed for this chapter, so I apologize! Writing this was a lot harder than I had expected, especially writing from Molly's perspective! I still think I have a few more chapters in me, just to try and clear everything up, so if you would like more let me know! I would also like to say THANK YOU again to everyone who has put this story on their story alert or their favorite stories list! It really does mean a lot and reviews are always welcome, nice and constructive!

2 Days After

Hi, Sherlock.

I found your note when I got back from work. You really didn't need to say thank you, it was no trouble, none at all. Would have been nice to see you off, but I understand, you don't do goodbyes. Sorry, that, I didn't mean John, I meant…

Sorry. John was at the hospital today. I came in and he was just… sitting. Pretty much where I found you that night, in the dark. I was thinking about trying to talk to him, but he seemed like he wanted to be left alone. I think he just missed the company. He did seem, angry, though. I don't know, I suppose it's natural, but I was worrying… Although you did say he had a temper, so probably just John being… John. He brought his laptop, as well. I know I shouldn't have been spying, and I wasn't, but I did notice at one point he seemed to be writing an email… to you. He did seem to relax after he sent it though, so maybe it's his way of letting it out.

It was weird, I spent the morning trying to convince you to eat, and then spent the afternoon trying to convince him to eat! The weirdest part is you were easier to convince than he was! I did, though, manage to convince him to eat something, even if it was just a packet of crisps. I've spoken to Mrs Hudson and I'm sure between us we can make sure he's eating while he's off work at least. Mrs Hudson suggested contacting the women from the surgery, Sarah, to try and get her to help out. I told her I thought it would be inappropriate. I know you didn't really care for her and I didn't think you'd want… You know, them to get closer.

I also wanted to say thanks for giving me your new number, it was really sweet. Don't worry, though, I won't phone to chat or anything! In fact I hate talking on the phone, or texting, so I'll only contact you through here every once in a while.

Seeing John, today, made me realise that no matter how much I think I miss you, I'm not important. No, no, I know I am important, as you made me realise, but I mean that he misses you more, he needs the support more, he…

He will be fine, Sherlock. I'll make sure of it.

Molly xxx

2 weeks after

Hi, Sherlock.

I feel horrible telling you this, but you said in your last email that you wanted to know every time John did something… not John-like, so I thought I'd better let you know.

It was after your funeral, things started going wrong. It was a great turn out, Sherlock, your funeral that is. Even after all those lies so many people still support you. Your eulogy sounded lovely, even though I could only catch a few phrases, A Level French seems to have 'deleted' itself in my hardrive, (ha ha)! I know you wrote it, though. It was obvious, even though your brother seems very similar to you in some ways, the words were definitely yours.

John seemed to deal with the whole day rather well. He smiled politely, talked to a few members of your family, we even spent a while chatting about you. Well, you're experiments mostly, he seemed a bit… reluctant, to actually speak about you. He had his cane with him, as well, but like you said it was to be expected the limp would return, so I wasn't that worried.

But after the reception, and everything, it got quite late into the night and he just showed up. I gave him my address at the funeral, just in case he ever needed to talk, or something. While I was trying to look out for him I never really thought he would want to speak to me. But was there, on my doorstep. He had been crying, Sherlock. I asked him in, and for a while we just sat in silence. He seemed so… broken. It hurt, I wanted to tell him everything, that you were okay and safe and he didn't have to be like this… but obviously I didn't. I just let him talk. He explained that he kept having these… turns, where one minute he would be fine and calm and he could keep himself together, but then something would trigger him and he'd lose control. He said he was scared, because of his sister and her drinking problems, that the same would happen to him. He said that he kept thinking he didn't want to hurt anybody the way that his sister's drinking had hurt him, but then he realised no one would really care. I didn't know what to say, Sherlock. He needed you and you could have been there and… And all I could do was repeat what you said to me the night before you left my flat.

'You matter more than you will ever realise.'

He just looked at me. At first it seemed like I made him angry, that it had made things worse, but then he… smiled. Properly smiled, and told me that I was way too good for you. (I don't agree, just to make that clear! And I don't think he really meant it, anyway).

By the time we finished chatting it was way too late for him to go back, plus I was worried, I didn't want him to be alone.

He left in the morning before I woke up, and left a note saying thank you and that he wouldn't… bother me again. You too are so alike, you know. But anyway since that night he hasn't came to mine, or to Bart's, and when I saw Lestrade the other day he said he hadn't heard anything from him either so I thought I'd better go check on him, for you. I went round yesterday after work, and at first he wouldn't answer the door. But after half an hour he seemed to realise I wasn't going away so he let me in.

John can draw, did you know that? He's… incredible. There must have been hundreds of sketches, mostly of you, of course. Some taken from the newspaper articles, some just from memory. They were small and intricate and… beautiful. (There were also some rather funny ones of Anderson being eaten by lions.) He said it was his way of trying to get his feelings out, he thought that if he made enough maybe he would be able to just… let you go. It hadn't worked. We sat for a while as I looked at the sketches and I remembered the day he'd came to the lab. I suggested he could maybe write to you again, maybe it would help. Again he gave me this… look, the same one from the night at my flat. He seemed… emotional. Eventually he said that the only person that had ever really noticed how he was feeling or what affected it was… you. I was quite flattered, to be honest!

He said he'd give it a try, so you might want to expect another email soonish.

I am worried about him, Sherlock. I know it's only been a few weeks but he seems to be getting worse rather than better… I will keep a closer eye on him though, I promise.

I hope you're okay, too. I know it must be hard being away from him.

I'll keep you updated.

Molly xxx

2 Months Later

Hi, Sherlock.

I need to tell you something that I'm not sure you will want to here. But I can't not tell you, Sherlock. As much as I don't want to.

John kissed me last night.

We had been out for something to eat after we'd both finished work, and at the end of the meal, when he asked for the bill, I could see something was… off. It took me back to that look in his eye the day just after you died he showed up at Bart's, and I didn't think he should be alone, so I asked him if he wanted to come back to mine for coffee.

For a while I just sat and listened as he talked about patients and co-workers and how someone had ordered the wrong prescription pads and how he had been thinking about quitting the surgery and trying out for a teaching job at Bart's and how the new nurse had asked him to go for a drink but he'd had to say no as he still didn't feel like dating. And after about an hour he stopped suddenly and gave me that same… look. I waited, expecting him to say thank you or sorry or the things he usually says when he gives me that look but he didn't say anything. He just leant forward and… Kissed me. I didn't know what to do. On the one hand all I could think about was all those things you told me while you had stayed at mine, about how you felt about him, and on the other hand… I wanted to kiss him back.

After a few seconds he realised I wasn't kissing back and got up, looking embarrassed. I told him I was sorry but I just couldn't be with him like that and that he should perhaps give the new nurse a chance since she seemed really lovely and that I really wanted us to still be friends. He smiled and apologised and after a few moments made a few excuses and left.

I am so sorry, Sherlock. I…

He's so lonely.

He loves you, you know he does. But you've left him thinking that you killed yourself because he wasn't enough for you and it's killing him.

But I know none of this matters as you know what's right and you won't come back or tell him anything until you've decided everything is how you want it.

But this isn't about you.

Molly. Xx.

2 years later

Hi, Sherlock.

I know you hate me, and I know when we met you asked me never to contact you ever again but it's been so long I thought I'd just keep you updated.

John and I are still together, but I'm sure you know that. He got a job teaching at Bart's and he loves it even though he complains. He moved into my flat but Mrs Hudson refuses to let out yours. We donated all your science stuff to a school, and the rest of your stuff is in a storage facility your brother rented out. John said that it was stupid keeping it as you wouldn't be needing it, but I could tell he was relieved at not having to throw it away. For my birthday he bought me a black kitten, and we named it Sherlock. I know you'll hate the sentiment, but it does remind me of you.

He still misses you, and every now and then he'll have a bad day, or week, but he gets through them. I still miss you, too, Sherlock. I know you feel like I've deliberately set out to hurt or betray you, and I never wanted that.

I hope you're safe, and I hope you can find happiness, too.

Molly xxx

3 years later

Sherlock,

I don't like being rude but I really, REALLY, hate you right now.

How could you do this? You knew he was fine, safe and happy and yet you still have to show up and ruin everything.

It's been a week, Sherlock. A week since he saw you in Baker Street, a week since he left me a voicemail saying he thought he was going mad, A WHOLE WEEK since anyone has seen or heard from him, and it is ALL YOUR FAULT!

I swear Sherlock, if he's been harmed or hurt himself in any way, I will never, EVER, forgive you.

And if you see him, please let me or Lestrade or ANYONE know. And please just end this once and for all.

Molly Watson.