"May I?"

Sherlock clenched his teeth. "Please."

The detective had prepared tea and everything was ready. He was ready.

Ready to face the fear.

John called him warning him about Jim being free. John feared he would go and hurt Sherlock but the detective knew it was not going to happen, he knew James Moriarty still needed him to be alive.

Moriarty needed Sherlock alive in order to complete his game.

The consulting criminal sat on his armchair and Sherlock poured tea in two cups and sat on John's chair. "You know when he was on his death bed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his pieces. The boy stopped before he got to the end -"

"And the dying man jumped out of his bed, ran straight to the piano and finished it." Sherlock finished Jim's sentence.

"Couldn't cope with an unfinished melody."

"Neither can you. That's why you've come."

"But be honest you're just a tiny bit pleased."

"What, with the verdict?" Sherlock snorted.

"With me," Jim said, leaning forward. "back on the streets. Every fairytale needs a good old-fashioned villain. You need me, or you're nothing. Because we're just alike, you and I, except you're boring." Jim shook his head, eating more of the apple he had taken as soon as he got into the flat. "You're on the side of the angels."

Sherlock remained silent for a second or two until he sipped more of his tea. "Got to the jury, of course."

"I got into the Tower of London. You think I can't worm my way into twelve hotel rooms?"

"Cable network."

"Every hotel bedroom has a personalised TV screen and every person has their pressure point. Someone that they want to protect from harm," Jim smiled darkly. "Easy-peasy."

"So how're you going to do it... burn me?"

"Oh, that's the problem – the final problem. Have you worked out what it is yet?" Jim asked but Sherlock remained silent. "What's the final problem?" Moriarty smiled. "I did tell you... but did you listen?"

Sherlock remained silent. He knew he had to look. He had to observe. Moriarty was at his flat, at the place he and John lived together. He was there and Sherlock had to see because he knew Moriarty was leaving, practically giving him all the clues.

He had to be clever.

Jim snorted. "How hard do you find it, having to say 'I don't know'?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, that's clever. That's very clever. Awfully clever," Jim smiled. "Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet? Have you told the brothers?"

"Told them what?" Sherlock asked, faking disinterest and completely ignoring Jim's words.

Or that's what Jim thought.

"Why I broke into all those places and never took anything."

"No."

"But you understand."

"Obviously."

"Off you go, then."

"You want me to tell you what you already know?"

Jim shook his head. "No. I want you to prove that you know it."

"You didn't take anything because you don't need to."

"Good," Jim said.

"You'll never need to take anything ever again."

Jim nodded in agreement. "Very good. Because?"

"Because nothing... nothing in the Bank of England, the Tower of London or Pentonville Prison could possibly match the value of the key that could get you into all three."

"I can open any door anywhere with a few tiny lines of computer code. No such thing as a private bank account now – they're all mine. No such thing as secrecy – I own secrecy. Nuclear codes – I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king and honey, you should see me in a crown."

This was insane. "You were advertising all the way through the trial. You were showing the world what you can do."

"And you were helping," Jim agreed. "Big client list: rogue governments, intelligence communities... terrorist cells. They all want me. Suddenly, I'm Mr. Sex."

Sherlock frowned. "If you could break any bank, what do you care about the highest bidder?"

"I don't. I just like to watch them all competing. "Daddy loves me the best!" Aren't ordinary people adorable? Well, you know. You've got John. I should get myself a live-in one."

"Why are you doing all of this?" Sherlock asked, getting furious at the mention of John's name.

"It'd be so funny, having a brother around..."

Sherlock preferred to ignore that.

"You don't want money or power. What is it all for?"

"I want to solve the problem – our problem; the final problem." Jim said softly. "It's gonna start very soon, Sherlock... the fall. But don't be scared. Falling's just like flying except there's a more permanent destination."

"Never liked riddles."

"Learn to. Because I owe you a fall, Sherlock. I... owe... you."

As soon as Jim left Sherlock sunk in John's chair. He let his hands caress the soft material of the chair and thought of Moriarty's words.

"Have you told the brothers?"

The brothers.

Sherlock remained silent until John arrived. He pretended he listened to him arguing about the traffic, asking him whether Jim had been there or not and if he was OK.

Now Sherlock understood everything.

"He was here, wasn't he? What did he say? Did he hurt you -"

"John," Sherlock said, standing up and looking straight into John's eyes. Into those eyes he remembered so much. "Leave. Me. Alone."

Sherlock went to his room and slammed the door shut.