'Did you miss me?...' His sinister, almost smug voice rang out through the laboratory just as I was shrugging out of my lab coat and intending to head home. My mind instantly went to Sherlock, wonderful, arsehole Sherlock who had only just left a cryptic message on my phone stating that he would be gone for a while. 'Six months or so' his deep, baritone voice had said. How could he be alive when he had shot his own brains out as enthusiastically as one who was running towards a mountain of gold? Sherlock had said he was dead. Sherlock was never wrong. Or so that's what I thought. Fear shot through me and sent shivers up my spine just as the lab doors creaked open. Such force had been used to slam the doors open that they crashed into the wall with a loud crash. Instantly, self-defence mode kicked in. Who else could it be other than that masochistic monster that was Jim? Jim from IT. Gay Jim. Jim Moriarty. Everyone knew that it was shy little Molly that had been the one to help Sherlock fake his death. Everyone including Moriarty and I knew that he would not stop until he got revenge. I didn't know how on Earth he could possibly be alive but as Sherlock says, 'Once you eliminate all of the remaining factors, the only one remaining must be the truth however improbable it may seem'. Moriarty was in the lab. Alone. With me. And not even trying to be inconspicuous. My heart thundered in my chest and my breathing laboured as adrenaline built up inside of me. A tall, dark shadow loomed over me and I…