Disclaimer: Nothing mine, so don't sue.
A.N. And here is the Johnlock version of the Return. Well, future Johnlock. First chapter and having them all over each other would have been a bit hurried, wouldn't it? As always, betaed/Musaed by Ennui Enigma, and not britpicked. Oh, and I'd like to apologize to Ronald Adair for the little twist.
The empty heart
It's done. Well, done but for one single strand of Moriarty's now dismantled criminal web. That one is in London, though, so Sherlock is allowed (has) to go back. The endgame is so close he can practically taste it, taste the freedom to see John again, to show himself again ('a genius needs an audience' – and the audience Sherlock is interested in has a full name). It's making him jittery.
But there is still one more obstacle ('you gotta love a sniper'). Moran is the closest thing Moriarty had to John and crack shot is just one of the similarities between the two ex-soldiers. Sherlock isn't taking the risk. Not now. Not after three eternal years spent making sure they ('John... Mrs. Hudson... Lestrade') are safe. The only problem is that he does – risk it, in the end.
He's disguised as one of his homeless network, ratty old jeans and a faded hoodie, everything way too big for him (that's easy) and with a whim of ironic accuracy he dyed his hair blonde. It's the easiest way to be both overlooked by the majority of people and draw no suspicion by Moran's goons when he approaches them to gather data. He's just hungry (often literally; not that it matters) and wants to know if there's anything he can do to earn a bit of money. At the worst, they'll shoo him away.
He has his chance because Moran has just disposed of an associate in money laundering who became a little too greedy. Sherlock is sure Moran did it himself. He wouldn't need to, now that he's top dog, but perhaps he wanted to make sure his skills wouldn't rust, or he was bored, or he just likes killing? The firearm used is peculiar, clever – a rifle whose bullet marks masquerade as if from a very short-range gun. Such falsification turned the case into a deceptive locked-room mystery that is making NSY run in circles. (Not that such is new).
Sherlock knows the rifle is Moriarty's gift to his favourite sniper. Honestly, it would have been simpler for Moran to use a common rifle. His connection to Adair (the money launderer) was covert enough he wouldn't be suspected anyway. No, turning this into a useless riddle by using the firearm Jim gave him is surely significant. But the detective wonders what it exactly entails. Fact: the three year anniversary of St. Barts' show is fast approaching. So there are two possibilities.
One: Moran misses his boss. He created a mystery because if there is a hereafter from which souls can know what happens on Earth, Jim would certainly like to see this. Moran might lack morals, but religious teachings imparted in childhood can surface at the oddest times. Using that particular firearm would be an act of homage, a way to feel closer to Jim. In a word, sentimental (Sherlock would have mocked before but now can't without being a hypocrite – and that is Mycroft's area of expertise anyway).
Two: the riddle is meant for him. It's an intentional clue. His worst fears are true. He needs to work faster.
Sherlock is lurking around the crime scene, wishing he could just go in and start reprimanding the forensic team and everyone else like they evidently deserve, when in the crowd of bystanders he spots someone. John.
He experiences tunnel vision like never before, not even on those cases with an especially interesting corpse. Everything but John fades away, and what he sees hurts. This is not John consulting on a case (he'd do better than the lot of them, so why doesn't the police just ask him?), this is John indulging in a bloodless kind of masochism. It's all in that vaguely lost, haunted look. He's come because Sherlock would have liked this (and Sherlock would have if he didn't know the solution from the very start), and in the off-chance ghosts existed (they don't, don't be an idiot, John) the most likely place to find Sherlock's ghost would be at someone else's crime scene. It wouldn't be an entirely wrong assumption.
But really, John, the bloody cane? Again? You know the treatment for that is adrenaline in regular doses, so even without me to lead the chase why wouldn't you find your own way to ensure its availability?
Sherlock knows he's responsible for the bags under John's eyes. It's not just for giving him ample material for nightmares. If he'd just told John the experimental results of many a late night concert (John's sleep cycles gets better with music, especially Mozart), he could have put in a CD and spared himself a few nightmares by now. In the past, Sherlock's playing had really been too loud, failing to consider John's lightness of sleep during REM. He'd never thought to justify himself by speaking of his experiment when his friend berated him for the 3AM concerts. In a word, John looks awful, and it's Sherlock's fault.
John's wanderings are slowly but surely bringing him nearer to his friend, and Sherlock has no idea what to do. Reason says run, run and hide, because it's too soon. He can't reveal himself yet. What if John recognizes him, here out in the open? What if someone else realizes the truth - there's bound to be someone on Moran's payroll around. He can't ruin this now.
But for once he can't obey his logic's diktat. He's paralyzed, his feet feel nailed to the pavement. He looks and looks, getting more and more rigid, until a distracted John crashes into him, sending them both sprawling. Sherlock stands, helping John get up, handing him his cane and the wallet, which slipped from his pocket (he just can't leave his friend on the ground) so quickly John doesn't have time to get a good look at him. The detective bolts like a lightning as soon as John's upright.
Freud would have had a field day with them today as he determined whose subconscious engineered the accident (Ids are clever things, and he wouldn't put past the doctor's to latch onto Sherlock's presence and get him without his conscious' say). Sherlock's Id (the man doesn't have an oversized Ego like most claim. His Ego is the tiniest a grown man has ever exhibited in fact. Instead, he's all Id/Instincts and wants or Superego/Control) is exhibiting textbook behaviour. The accident made John lose his keys. Instead of giving them back, Sherlock pocketed them himself. So the moment he slows down enough to notice this, he really has no choice but to go back to John, right?