Welcome!
To those of you who are reading for the first time, Welcome! To those of you who are reading for the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, or eighth time, Welcome back. To those of you who are reading for the some-random-number-greater-than-eighth time, thank you so much. Your obsession is appreciated.
I present to you...code number 2.
Chapter 25
Sherlock stood, watching out the window, of his new flat down the hall from Francisco. He held his violin in his left hand and his bow in his right, but he didn't play. He didn't move to raise the bow he just stood there, thinking. Thinking of John, of Lestrade, of Molly, but most of all, he was thinking of Moriarty. He was thinking of the games, of the codes and the riddles. He was wondering when Moriarty would contact him next.
As if on cue, his mobile phone buzzed from the table behind him. He set his violin and bow down carefully and jumped onto the couch, grabbing his phone.
Hello, darling! Open the door, would you?
JM
Sherlock looked to the door. He couldn't hear anyone, but he could see the shadow of two shoes standing in front of the door. He stood cautiously from the sofa, placing his feet as silently as possible, approaching the door. He looked through the peephole, seeing what he expected to see, and opened the door.
Jim Moriarty stood right outside of the door, hands in pockets, creepy smile spread across his face, looking as laid-back and content as usual. Sherlock took a step back and gestured for the criminal to enter, closing the door behind him. He watched as Moriarty sat where he had a second ago, glancing around the flat with judgemental eyes.
'It's definitely a bit shabbier than the other flat. Quite a bit emptier, too.' Moriarty said, emphasizing the word emptier. It was jab at John not being with him, Sherlock knew.
'How did you know where I was?' Sherlock asked, taking a seat in the chair opposite Moriarty.
'Same way I knew you were in that stupid cabin in the woods. I have people watching you. Sebby was my man there.' He smiled, relishing the little twitch Sherlock's lip gave at the mention of Sebastian Moran.
'Who, if I may ask, is your 'man' here?' He asked sarcastically.
Moriarty shifted in his seat, crossing his legs and smiling wider. 'You know your little friend down the hall? Francisco, is it?' Sherlock straightened, becoming angry. 'It's amazing what he would do for money.'
Sherlock snarled at the psychopath across from him. 'How is it that you can get simple people to follow you?' He leaned forward. 'It makes absolutely no sense.'
'Of course it wouldn't make sense to you, Sherlock, you have no one to protect. Francisco has an adorable daughter in America. She lives with her mother, but Francisco still provides for her however he can, even if it means telling a maniac where his friend is at all times.'
Sherlock sat back.
'But you, you have no one to protect; you have no one you love enough to commit a crime.' His smile contorted into a smirk, 'you know who I could get to work for me incredibly easily?'
Sherlock gave him the 'Go ahead, but I don't care' look.
'John Watson.'
There was a moment's pause before Sherlock sat forward again, glaring at Moriarty, 'He would never do that.' Another pause, 'Not to me.'
Moriarty laughed long and hard at that. When he had calmed and the tears had stopped pooling in his eyes he looked back at the clueless Sherlock, immense amusement twinkling in his brown eyes. 'He would do that for you.' At the confused look he got, 'you are so dense, Sherlock!'
Another snarl and twitch from Sherlock. You would care if they thought you were stupid, or wrong. John's words rang through Sherlock's mind.
'You're blind to the people who lived in your flat!' Moriarty laughed again. 'Please tell me you're not completely stupid. He loves you!'
The change in Sherlock's face was drastic.
'When he came back from the army, from absolute Hell, you gave him not only a place to live, but a life that would satisfy his need for adrenaline and adventure, and you didn't leave him alone. That's what he fears, can't you see?' Sherlock looked devastated, so Moriarty continued. 'When you fell, he thought he was alone. He tried to kill himself. Twice!' Sherlock's lip trembled. 'He tried to shoot himself the first time, but luckily there were no bullets in his gun, and Mrs. Hudson had come upstairs just then. The second time, just this month, he tried to drink himself to death. You saw him not long after, it had ended in a bar fight where he'd been taught a lesson, and hasn't had a drink since. He misses you, Sherlock, and you're an idiot for not seeing-'
'Stop!' Sherlock begged. He dropped his head into his hands to wipe the sweat and tears off of his face and to refresh his mind. 'Stop. That's not why you're here.'
'You do have a soft side.' Moriarty said with a chuckle. 'But you are right. I am here to give you your riddle.'
Sherlock sat up straight again, recomposed. 'And the deal is, if I solve your riddle, you spare my life.'
Moriarty nodded. 'And Molly's.' He stopped, 'Unless, of course, you don't actually care for her, you're just bluffing.'
Sherlock didn't really want to answer, but he shook his head. 'She is helpful and a good friend.'
'You mean a good tool?'
Sherlock looked ashamed for a tiny fraction of a second, but didn't let Moriarty see it. He shook his head again. 'What kind of riddle is this?'
'It's a code, actually. It's sort of a tricky one, though, nothing simple. Something…official-looking.' Sherlock furrowed his brow. 'It might just be a stolen code method from the government. Nothing serious.' Moriarty reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small envelope. He handed it to Sherlock, who took it and thoroughly examined it. It felt light.
'What's at stake if I can't solve it in time?' Sherlock held the envelope up to the light. It only looked like one piece of paper. When Moriarty didn't answer right away, he looked over at the couch.
Moriarty thought. 'Let's just say it'll have a massive effect on the people.' Sherlock went back to examining the envelope. 'Well, I'd better be off. Good to see you, Sherlock. It's always nice to know that you're alive.' This last statement was said with a hint of sarcasm. Moriarty got up and showed himself out. From the door, he called, 'Good luck, Sherlock Holmes.' And disappeared out the door.
Sherlock was too busy with this new task to notice. He opened the envelope, finally satisfied with his inspection. Inside was precisely what he had expected, a simple piece of paper. He threw the envelope onto the floor and perched on his chair before unfolding the piece of paper.
95186091185858193439032239893619780466593808859126 9193803882793823908289
17KIPPENHAHN, HOLMES.
Sherlock stared at the numbers for some time. Then he reached for a pen and paper and his phone and began searching.
Hello again! I know this is a much shorter chapter than the last one, but I have given you all the second code. It is a bit trickier than the first one, which if you didn't notice, there are six different codes, some harder than others. This one, however, is actually a government code. Can you crack it? I've only had one attempt so far! Come on, where are my decoders?
Get riddling!
Thanks for reading! Questions? Comments? Thoughts? Feelings? Hate Mail? Suggestions? Frustration? Anger? Death Threats? Advice? Anything? Review!