"It's raining…"
"Oh for God's sake make up your mind, I've only been gone for four minutes" cried Sherlock on the phone
"Well little brother I certainly hope you've learnt your lesson. You are needed." answered Mycroft
"Who needs me?"
Mycroft exclaimed reluctant. "England."
There was a pause, Sherlock exhaled annoyed. He hated when his brother played mysterious.
"Could you please be more specific?"
"You are going to need to see it for yourself"
Several minutes passed which seemed like an eternity until the plane landed right from where it took off a moment before. When the detective looked at Mary and John through the window and to everything that he was leaving behind, he really had thought that he was looking at it all for the last time.
The gates opened and he rushed down the plane's stairs. His brother had planted in him an unpleasant feeling of anxiety that wasn't going to leave until he saw what the fuss was all about.
John, Mary and Mycroft were all gathered near the car with worried expressions. Sherlock run through past them brusquely.
"Sherlock, do you know anything about this? How can this be possible? He has to be dead" said John trying to believe his own words.
"Take a peek over there" Mycroft pointed out to the car's dashboard where a tiny screen kept going crazy.
Sherlock did so, he leaned out to see and… no.
"Miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" the screen kept repeating.
"Moriarty." Sherlock muttered almost breathless.
Sherlock was quiet all the ride to 221B. He had left John and Mary but not before having to listen to all of his best friend's questions and worries about the master criminal sudden return. When he finally arrived, he run into a surprised and upset Mrs. Hudson.
"Sherlock! Oh dear thank God you're here again. He… that… man appeared on the…" Sherlock didn't really have time for this so he interrupted her.
"It's good to see you too" he replied sarcastically "and yes that's obviously why I'm here and if you don't mind" he pushed her out of the way to get as far as he could to his flat so he would be able to think about all this.
As soon as he opened the door he felt a renewed feeling of safety and comfort. Everything was slightly dark to be daytime, the curtains were half closed, it started raining. It didn't matter though, it was better like that. He needed to think about all the stuff that had happened in the last hours. All England had listened to and seen the face of his biggest enemy. James Moriarty. Without apparent reason, he just simply returned from the dead, just as he did honestly. -Only managing to be even more dramatic.-
Was there anything he'd been sure these past two years was that Moriarty had died, he had killed himself right in front of him. And yet there he was, seemingly alive.
Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable must be the truth.
"I was just checking out your room."
Sherlock jumped on his place and turned to look to the kitchen.
"The love nest I believe they're calling it now right?" the dark voice chuckled "don't worry I know nothing happened there."
The familiar body walked slowly towards the detective who was more startled than what he let his face show.
"Oh c'mon Sherlock. Not even a small welcome? A hug maybe? No? Uhm, pity…" the criminal stopped a few inches from the taller one. "Did you miss me? "