A/N: Hello all! This is a little something I've been dragging along, inspired by one of KCS's sentences :) It'll be three or four parts, and it's mostly done. Reviews inspire me! *grins*

#30 – Ghost

After Lestrade came by one evening in '94, bringing Continental news of finally locating the remains of Professor James Moriarty, Watson did not bother to change into his night-clothes but waited sadly for the sounds below of an unconscious struggle against a ghost

Holmes and I were just finishing our supper when Mrs. Hudson showed Inspector Lestrade in. He was evidently just getting off his shift, and was clutching a Continental newspaper in his hand. He removed his bowler, and we invited him to sit.

"Well gentlemen, " He said with a smile. "They've finally found him."

Holmes looked as puzzled as I. Lestrade answered by thrusting the paper under Holmes' nose, grinning.

Holmes peered at the indicated article, then the blood drained from his face, though his expression didn't change, except perhaps a fleeting shock, like the kind at seeing an unexpected spider in the cup you were about to sip from.

He lay down the paper, and sat back with a slight sigh.

"Holmes?" I questioned, concerned. Lestrade's glee was fading at Holmes' reaction to his news. "What is the matter?"

Holmes looked at me, giving me a quick reassuring smile.

"It's a Swiss paper. Apparently a fisherman found a skeleton downstream from the Richenbach Falls."

Holmes grabbed the paper to dictate the details.

"This fisherman's anchor caught on something. Upon pulling it up, he found it entangled with a full set of human bones. All identification has pointed to one who was reported to have fallen from the Falls three years ago."

Holmes met my gaze.

"They found Moriarty's body."

*~*~*~

Lestrade left us to our food, but I could tell Holmes was distracted by this unanticipated news. He pushed the roasted potatoes around on his plate until I was finished, then he lit his pipe in silence.

"Holmes—" I started to speak, but he abruptly stood and strode into his bedroom, not quite slamming the door behind him. I winced at the sound, and then sighed.

I spent a quiet evening alone, worried over my friend behind the door, but too knowledgeable about his firm pride. He would not welcome my interference this evening. Therefore, I occupied myself until it was late enough that I could retire to my room.

I was, however, wide-awake. I was anxious about Holmes. There must be emotional repercussions from the news, and if Holmes would not acknowledge them while awake, then they would manifest unconsciously. I decided to sit up. Heaven knows he had helped me (in his way) through enough nighttime demons. The least I could do is to be ready for such an occurrence from him.

I threw my dressing gown over my clothes, and made my way carefully down the stairs. I built up the fire again, and sat in my chair with some old case notes on my lap, using the light of the fire, to avoid disturbing Holmes with a bright light. However, if he were, as I suspected, still awake, he would know that I was out here, regardless.

It was around one in the morning, when I heard the first sounds of distress. Moans and grunts drowned out the creaking of the bedsprings. I stood, prepared to wake Holmes at this first sign of a nightmare, and then perhaps get him to talk a bit about that day on the Falls. He had never done so, to my knowledge, and days like these were evidence that the memories were still eating at him.

I crossed to the door, and turned the handle.

It was locked.

A/N: Like I said, let me know how much you want the rest. :) And, don't worry, I won't forget about The Counterfeit! R&R!! :)