Chapter 1
"You really shouldn't have come alone Sherlock, don't you know by now that I've always got a sniper in waiting for you?" Moriarty smiled wryly.
The parking structure was dark and reeked of oil being carried through it by the light wind.
"Why should I bring company when it just means your sniper will have two targets instead of one? But it doesn't matter regardless, you're not going to kill me, not today. Besides, how will you ever find out how I survived the fall if you just kill me?"
"Hardly impressive, as if that ruse fooled me for a second, I'm always a step ahead of you, why can't you just see and admit that already?"
"As if you knew, why not have the targets killed then?"
"Wouldn't be as much fun without watching your face as your precious pet died still thinking you're a fraud."
John hid under an older car on the floor above them peeking through the ramp down, it stung to hear not only Moriarty but Sherlock's cold words. It had taken him months to get over the fact that Sherlock had faked his death but he accepted the mad genius back all the same. He positioned his gun carefully knowing he couldn't shoot Moriarty until he knew the position of the sniper he likely brought and knew Sherlock was safe.
"So tell me, if you aren't planning killing anyone today, why did you send me your little love letter to meet you here?"
"I have a little experiment I would like you to try out. You do love experiments don't you Sherlock?" Moriarty's tone was creepishly teasing.
John swallowed hard, he wasn't sure what was going on but he didn't like the sound of it.
Sherlock took a cautious step forward, Moriarty matched the movement, "what sort of 'experiment?'"
"I was just wondering, if you were willing to die for your pet, would you be willing to forget him to save his life?"
Sherlock cocked an eyebrow until the all telling red dot of a sniper rifle appeared on the floor between the two men and slowly trailed away until it reached the ramp to the second floor like Sherlock feared. He knew it was a mistake to bring John along even as hidden backup, but he didn't want to risk leaving him behind like last time at St. Bart's either.
"At least this time you both get to live. So try it for me? I'll delay killing you for a while at least, though if you really can't remember a thing it might be more fun to watch you suffer as one of them."
Sherlock didn't need an explanation for what 'one of them' meant. A commoner. Someone without Sherlock's massive intellect. He swallowed hard buck looked at where the red dot was pointing.
"It's alright to come out now Johnny boy, your surprise appearance has already been spoiled anyway." Moriarty called out in his overly high pitched voice.
John had spent the few seconds he had as the two self-proclaimed geniuses battled witts to actually do something useful, text Lestrade to bring the whole police force as back up. He quickly hit the send button before slowly crawling out from under the car, putting his gun down and showing his empty hands.
"Very good, you have this one nicely trained. So what do you think Johnny? Rather be alive and with out your consulting detective or dead and know he still remembers you?" He pulled out a long thin glass vile and lightly shook it menacingly. "Never been tested on a human before though, so results might vary."
"The anti-paradigm 348." Sherlock mumbled almost in monotone but the shimmer in his eyes revealed the slightest hint of fear.
"Ah, I see you've heard of it, so you know the basic idea behind what the believed results are?" Moriarty held the vial closer to Sherlock and took another step forward; Sherlock matched his step.
"Basic idea and believed results aren't very good phrases to be going on wouldn't you agree?"
Moriarty shrugged unsympathetically, "True, but you and I likely have a better concept then your little army doctor does. So unless you want me to you know-" he made his hand into a gun shape and pretended to shoot his temple with poorly made sound affects "then I suggest you take it. It's your choice if you care to explain what it is to your pet while you still can or not."
John looked down at the two men, red dot directly on his forehead now, with a pleading look of confusion.
Sherlock tried desperately to keep his calm and take the vial without his hand shaking, he succeeded for the most part. "It was made as a form of memory eraser. On dogs and rats the affects reduced them to only their earliest memories."
John held in the gasp he so desperately wanted to let out. Years of Sherlock's life could be erased, he would be completely forgotten. He didn't dare look at the entrance of the garage praying that Lestrade would show up soon and would come mostly unnoticed. Sherlock gripped the vial tightly and pulled the cork top off throwing it to the side.
"Don't! Sherlock… just please, don't drink it." John didn't attempt to hide the worry and fear in his voice.
"I wont let them take you from me John."
"But that's what that vial will do anyway…" he trailed off as the detective brought the glass closer to his moth.
"I wont forget you, I promise." Sherlock made a feeble attempt at a smile, John saw though it. He knew Sherlock couldn't promise such a thing.
The moment after the contents were drained and being swallowed Sherlock dropped the vial as it unceremoniously smashed on the stained concrete floor beneath him. In a sudden movement he staggered sideways and clutched at his stomach as a deep baritone moan escaped his lips. Moriarty's smile widened until he could hear the sound of multiple footsteps rapidly approaching.
He looked up John with a scowl, "You've ruined my fun. Well I hope you enjoy your new life." Moriarty turned to make his leave.
John's knuckles were white from the tightness of his fists in horrified anticipation. He waited until he thought the sniper rifle was no longer turned on him then ran to Sherlock side to catch him just before the detective fell to his knees.
"Sherlock! You need to throw up right now, get it out of your system!" he held his friend tightly trying to steady him.
Sherlock attempts to dry heave and he continues to clutch at his stomach, they don't even notice as Lestrade and several police officers approach.
"I can't, it's not working." Sherlock's voice is frantic but after a moment a sort of calm envelopes him.
John watches in horror, "Sherlock?…. " He places a hand on the detectives thin cheek just below the protruding cheek bone, "Do you… remember anything?" He wants to ask if he remembers him but he's too afraid of the answer.
A/N:
I already wrote the majority of this story, just posting it. Still working on my other stories.
Prepare for feels.