"Aren't you going to go see her?" John said.
"Mycroft has her. If she's smart, she'll run," Sherlock said as he laced his fingers in a prayer position under his chin. This means he's not going to talk for a while. John figured he would go out and get some shopping. He was about to head out when he saw Lestrade walking in.
"John…is Sherlock upstairs? There's something we need to discuss," Greg said; looking a little flustered.
"Yeah, is there something wrong?" John asked.
"Moriarty... He's back." Lestrade said. John felt a sudden wave of memories come back to him. The pool. Sherlock…almost…dead…Himself strapped up with bombs…Moriarty whispering things into his ear to say to Sherlock…Sherlock thinking he was Moriarty for a minute…the hurt…
John followed Greg up to his flat. Sherlock was still in his mind palace.
"Sherlock…," Greg started. Sherlock sat up.
"What is it? I'm thinking," Sherlock said rudely.
"Moriarty," was all Greg had to say. A wave of panic showed on Sherlock's face.
"Lucy," Sherlock said suddenly. He jumped up and grabbed his coat and scarf.
"Come on, John!"