Hope this chapters okay reviews are welcome lo l x IMPORTANT MESSAGE : Btw i think i should mention that this whole story takes place quite a while after TGG so they've gotten over it but Moriarty got away.. and as much as that gives the story line away it needed to be said and also i sort of got my inspiration for this from another story by PrincessNala and i loved it so much i just had to do a version so it is her story liability so no copyright intended and all that that no copyright intended and all that NOTHING BELONGS TO ME. No matter how much i wish Benedict did...

My Sherlock –Chapter 11- John? ...I know.

Sherlock's POV

The crime scene was an old Victorian house, it was well worn and clearly not well looked after so no one had lived there for 10 years plus and if they had it was probably just squatters.

"I used to live in place like this when i was a teenager." John commented. I had simply smiled as i was trying to concentrate on the case details. We pulled up into a long drive way and we could see the true extent of the house as it expanded way further back than you could see from the road. For a moment i considered how rich John's family must have been when he was younger but was pulled from my thoughts (Quite harshly i must say)by Lestrade when he pulled open my door and led me and John ,still hand in hand, into the house.

The actual murder had taken place in the attic so after John and Greg put on the forensic suits we headed upstairs. They chatted benignly all the way up the three flights of stairs as i looked around attentively trying to taking in any little detail that could give away the killer. Lestrade moved forward a bit more and I heard the low rumble of him wrestling with what was obviously an old rusty door handle that stood between us and dead body.

I walked in and stepped towards the body and then bent slowly to examine it closer. Blond hair with grey splatters so they were obviously older but could not have been older than 50 as wrinkles are obvious but not coverable so around 35-45. No marks from a wedding ring so either never married or not been married for quite some time. Clothes are smart but cheap so they are used to a sort of smart uniform but possibly out of the job now. Walking stick on his right side so he had been wounded, in the army, so wounded in action. And finally, killed with a single, neat gun shot wound to the head so this was a planned attack with thought and reason. Well not reason but. Oh i know what i mean...

"So, any ideas?"Lestrade said expectantly. I took one last glance at the body and noticed something. The letter 'M' was carved into the dead mans chest and he blood was only just seeping through the material of the shirt. It all clicked.

"John..." I looked up to see him staring blankly at the body with a slightly frightened look in his eyes. So, he had noticed.

"I know Sherlock, I know." And with that he left and i heard him running quickly downstairs, much like i had done a few days before. I quickly took Lestrade over what i had deduced and explained to him in the gentlest of ways why John had run off then i too ran off to go find him.

John's POV

It was me. Well it wasn't but it was a ... copy. Moriarty knew. I don't know how but he knew. Sherlock's look and the tone of his voice had only confirmed it. I needed some air.

I had wanted to run and run and run until i collapsed with exhaustion but i reached the front garden of the house and my panicking heart beat meant i just could not go any further so i settled myself on a bench to wait for Sherlock.

It had seemed like hours that i had sat on the bench considering possibilities but when Sherlock sat silently beside me i realised it was only a few short moments. Sherlock did not say a word he simply took my hand into his, pressed his lips gently onto my forehead and manouvered our bodies so that my head was resting comfortably on top of his and his was lain on top of mine.

"Im scared" I finally spoke up.

"I know John, I know." Sherlock replied solemnly