The doorbell rang. John Watson opened the door. He was surprised at who he saw.

"But… But… But you're dead!" John stammered. "Medics found your body and said you were dead. You were announced to be dead. You were found dead on the roof. You shot yourself in the face! You're supposed to be dead! You're bloody dead!" His voice got louder. "They found the gun, and the bullet was inside your head! You lost too much blood to even consider surviving that shot!" He paused. "You did that to him! It's all your fault!" He was yelling by now. "It's all your fault, Moriarty!"

The man stepped into the room. "Just wait a sec-"

"What do you want?!" John screamed into his face. "WHAT DO YOU WANT, MORIARTY?!"

"Let me expla-"

He was interrupted once again. "Shut up!" John turned around, facing away from the door, and started mumbling to himself. "It can't be him. It just can't. Moriarty died. He died. I'm probably just hallucinating. The doctor said that could happen. If I just pretend he's not there, then he won't be there because he's a hallucination. He's not real."

Then Watson heard the door close behind him. He turned around, and the man was still there. The man would've been gone if it had been a hallucination, so John knew he had to be real.

"Um, sit down, I guess," said John several long seconds later as he ran to the kitchen. He came back a moment later with two cups of tea.

"Thank you," the visitor said as he drank the tea. "This is very good. What is it?"

"Earl grey." They sipped in silence. "Why are you here?" asked John as calmly as possible.

"Let my introduce myself."

"I know who you are."

"No, you don't. My name is Richard Brook."

"But that was just Moriarty's alias."

"No, it wasn't. Well, yes, it was, but it wasn't."

"What the bloody-"

"I'm an actor. Richard Brook is my stage name. My brother Jim-"

"Wait, Moriarty's your brother?" John was still trying to take everything in.

"My twin, actually. Anyway, he convinced me to change my name to Richard Brook and to stand in for him when you visited me and Kitty."

"So, you're not evil?" asked John. Richard shook his head. "Then why did you help him?"

"He's my brother. I wanted him to be happy. I thought that it would prevent him from getting hurt, but it didn't. It just made him dead."

"I'm so sorry," said Watson. He really was sorry. This man who lost his brother truly knew what it was like to feel that horrible pain of loss and was perhaps the only person in the world who understood how John felt.