Hello Detective

The Empty Hearse Part 1

I woke up the next morning to my alarm at 4:30. I sighed and rolled over and saw Sherlock still asleep. He was here. He was real. Part of me thought I had dreamt the whole thing. But now I had to get him home.

I was still angry, but punching him would only make me feel better for a moment. Each time I think I've forgiven him, I'm taken back to every painful moment I had experienced over the last two years. I thought of how much easier things would have been if I would have just known. Even if he wasn't there, I would have known he was somewhere out there. Not thinking he was dead.

"You're staring, Adelaide." His voice woke me from my trance.

"Sorry... I just... Thought maybe it was all a dream." I muttered and crawled out of the bed to go make some food. Just because I was mad at him doesn't mean I was going to let him starve.

My journey back to London was long. Luckily I was receiving directions through my earpiece from Q back at headquarters most of the trip so I didn't have to talk to Sherlock. What would I say? So.. How was the last two years without me? Oh and by the way when I left I was sort of pregnant with your child. Nope, probably wouldn't go over well.

I was now sitting in Mycroft's office brooding. I had trusted him, and he betrayed me. He knew Sherlock was alive, and he was meant to tell me.

Sherlock and Mycroft were chatting about Moriarty's network as my eyes drifted to the Times sitting on his desk. I grabbed it and read. Front page, above the fold. I read the article by Kitty Riley, but not the one I expected to see after my conversation with Mycroft before I left.

"After extensive police investigations, Richard Brook did indeed prove to be the creation of James Moriarty. Amidst unprecedented scenes, there was uproar in court as Sherlock Holmes was vindicated and cleared of all suspicion. Sadly, all this comes too late for the detective, who became something of a celebrity two years ago. Questions are now being asked as to why police let matters get so far. Sherlock Holmes fell to his dead from the top of London's Barts Hospital. Although he left no note, friends say it's unlikely it would have occurred without the acquittal of James Moriarty and the ensuing public defamation."

She did what I asked, gaining back my trust. At least someone around here could do as they were asked.

"Have you seen this?" I asked Mycroft.

"Yes, it seems she has trouble following orders." Mycroft said.

"Maybe just your orders, she did exactly as I told her. Maybe her loyalties lie elsewhere." I said.

"You told her to write this?" He asked.

"A thank you might be warranted here. I believe it might help now that he's actually back." I said, insensitively.

"I'm detecting a note of anger here, Adelaide. Care to explain?" He shot back.

"You were supposed to tell me, Mycroft! Not swoop in like a knight in shining armor and console the grieving damsel in distress! I trusted you, Mycroft." I yelled, putting both of them on edge.

"I had all intentions to, but after learning the state you were in I made a judgement call." He argued. I knew exactly what he meant by 'the state you were in', and he didn't mean mentally.

"It wasn't your call to make!" I shot back.

"I was sparing you further pain, we weren't even certain he was ever coming back. I didn't want to give you false hope. I thought it would make it easier to move on, and then when you and Charles–" He began and I cut him off.

"Don't bring Charles into this!" I yelled, I knew he was only doing this to make Sherlock jealous.

"But now things can go back to the way they were." Mycroft insisted.