my headcanon is that molly knows sherlock is alive because she helped him do the dying trick also he stays with her for a while that is my headcanon
He spends the first night at her flat. Molly doesn’t ever hear him crying but in the morning when she shuffles into her kitchen in her least-embarrassing bathrobe she finds Sherlock sitting at the table with red-rimmed eyes and dried tracks down his cheeks. One of her cats is sitting on his lap. He looks surprised when it jumps down and she wonders how long it sat there without him noticing.
He’s made two cups of tea. The one in front of him is empty, the other long since cold and she realizes that he didn’t make it for her, that he’d undoubtedly automatically made it for someone else, another man on the other side of the city who probably has also made two cups of tea and hasn’t made any efforts to hide his tears. John, unlike Sherlock, has never had any problem with letting everyone see how much he cares. Except, no, that’s wrong, that’s different now. Because before she’d flutter about him unseen and unheard but now when he watches her she thinks he actually sees her, actually hears what she says.
Funny how death changes people, she thinks. She’s so surrounded by it and yet it never ceases to surprise her how much it changes people. And he’s been changed by it, by his death. Even if his body hasn’t been made ash, she thinks that death means losing everything, and there is no doubt that this man has lost everything.
The two cups of tea always get me. sniff.