Pacing in his flat at 221B, Sherlock found he was once again excited by a case. He was about to ask if Watson was available to go with him, but he had been letting John have some time to grieve over his newly deceased wife, Mary. He felt this especially important considering the trauma that his sister had put John in only a few weeks ago.

He decided it better to go on alone for this particular case, and made the proper concoction of illicit substances to clear his mind and allow him better access to his mind temple. The one, possibly only thing that Sherlock disliked about doing this was that he made himself more susceptible to his emotions. In order to fight crime, his own demons had to be consistently embraced, particularly one emotion that he held for John Watson.

As he self-medicated, he found it helpful to do some deep breathing, in order to keep himself in check.

Eventually having found his way to the crime scene, located strangely enough in a dilapidated skyscraper, he found himself being briefed by Greg Lestrade about the case, as per usual.

"Three people were found deceased in this building." Greg said "We located and excavated all three, but then we got twenty texts from different phones, all pinpointed directly to the top level of the building."

"And you insist upon me going up there to find out what's going on?" Sherlock inquired.

"Well that's where the problem comes in" Greg said with a sigh, "We don't like to involve 'consulting detectives' in possible hostage situations, but every one of the text messages requested you by name."

"Okay, I'm gonna need a cuppa" Sherlock said in his usually smart-aleck manner "my hat, and a pre-paid phone. Actually scratch that, just get me my hat… I'll take it from there. Now before I help you, is there anything else that might be vital to this case?"

"Well it's the calls…" Lestrade was nearly in tears at this point "The texts asked, did you miss me, over and over again… Do you think it's Eurus?"

"That's impossible, she's locked up and safe, I visit her once a month."

Sherlock looked at his phone which had just received a message,

Did you miss me? Come and find me Sherlock, the game's not quite over yet…

Sherlock was puzzled, but any chance to once again defeat his mortal enemy, Jim Moriarity, was a chance he was going to take, especially being that the odds of his resurrection was unlikely at best, and Holmes was curious to find the culprit for this particular stolen identity case.

Entering the building, it reminded him of one of his first cases with John. How Watson had been so amazed at Sherlock's ability to determine important character details at a drop of a pin. He had felt almost sick to his stomach when John found out the way he had been so successful for so long. Holmes wanted the doctor to like him, but he feared that he was unlikeable in the worst ways.

At a rapid pace, the detective climbed each individual floor, searching for something that would give away the status of his archenemy, but nothing came.

However…

The fourth floor, it seemed unlike any other floor that was in the building, being bare except for a few post-it's on the wall. Sherlock was immediately terrified. He had seen these before… In fact he had seen them ever since meeting John Watson. Every note on the wall would ask the same thing, the thing they always asked "Can you hide?" He stopped trying to keep up with the notes a long time ago, knowing that they were figments of a dilapidated brain trying to make sense of a world of hidden emotions.

As Sherlock eventually rose to the sixteenth and final floor, he was met with a rather discomforting surprise. Nobody. No phones. Nothing. Looking out the window, he found that not even the police were there anymore. And yet he still couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching his every move.

"Sherlock!" A voice shouted behind him. "You know I died, and a long time ago I might add" Jim Moriarty said in a playful voice "Then let me ask you something, you know what you need to do you know why I'm still in your mind, why haven't you done it? Why haven't you told John Watson? Do you really think you can hide?"

"John is still in love with Mary, he will always be…." Sherlock faced at his apparition and stated, "And I have no right to meddle in his life. Especially being that everyone close to me ends up with horrible emotional and physical pain. I can't do that to him. I love him way too much for that. Can I hide? I don't know, but I can try my hardest to not make my best friends life worse then I already have."

Behind Sherlock, the door to the upper layer slowly cracked open, alerting Sherlock to John Watson's presence in the building.

"JOHN! Please tell me you didn't hear anything…" Sherlock begged.

"You said that you loved me, that you would do anything to keep me from pain…" John answered.

Sherlocks face turned a bright red, holding his breath as he feared whatever would come next.

"Why didn't you realize that by hiding the truth you were causing more pain then you ever could in any other way. Holmes, after everything we've been through together… I love you Sherlock, and it hurt me more to think that was never going to be reciprocated than the millions of other things we've been through, because at least I had you to go through them with."

Sherlock ran to John and they kissed passionately in each other's embrace.