"Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me?"
His voice, that phrase. He could not get rid of it, it played like a broken record in his head, his mind felt dead. For once in his life, his mind completely stopped and he could only think of him, Moriarty.
"Sherlock? Sherlock? SHERLOCK!" John Watson screamed into Sherlock Holmes' face. Almost instantly, Sherlock snapped back into reality and looked up to his best friend, this short man who has been with Sherlock through his most troublesome of times and shouted, "What now?" John replied, "You were staring into space again" Sherlock grabbed his phone and quickly typed 'Jim Moriarty' into a search engine and replied, "John, I would not stare into space as there is nothing but matter and planets, and you know that they have no relevance to me at all. I do not need that nonsense in my mind"
As Sherlock anxiously awaited the results, he heard John murmur into his cup of tea, "It was just a phrase Sherlock. Just a phrase" Sherlock decided to blank John's comment and made it look like he never heard it and glared at his phone to find no results regarding Moriarty's whereabouts and sighed. He threw his phone onto the coffee table and lied on the settee. He rubbed his face and pulled his hair in annoyance. He closed his eyes to block out the world and to think.
Why was Moriarty returning such a big impact on him? Yes, he was a consulting criminal, a psychopath who pretended to kill himself just so Sherlock would kill himself but surely, Moriarty means nothing to him. Like most people in the world, he should be dispensable towards him, Sherlock was so good at hiding his emotions and burying them down, out of his mind but he could not do it, not this time. What was it about Moriarty that just makes him lose his strong self-control over his mind and body?
Sherlock lay there, wondering about everything that has happened with Moriarty. 'You're boring; you're on the side of the angels.' "I may be on the side of the angels but don't think for one second that I am one of them" Sherlock whispered to himself as he looked back in his mind to the day of his 'death' and Moriarty's supposed 'death'. John peered above his newspaper to find Sherlock still lying with his eyes shut, Sherlock knew John would hear but he knew that John did not know what went on between him and Moriarty on the rooftop. No. Only he and Moriarty knew.
He knew that he and Moriarty were the same; they were just on different sides. He realised that they both needed each other and that it was not because they had opposite occupations, 'The Consulting Detective' and 'The Consulting Criminal', and that they were both brilliant, no. It was something a lot more than that, something new and different; something that Sherlock could not put his finger on, it was like an itch he could not scratch.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped wide open and he jumped up onto his feet and said, "I need to find him"