Surviving Reichenbach.

Holmes panted for breath as he clung to the nearby slope near the falls where Professor Moriarty had brought him in order to end his life, relieved that his plan had worked; he would have preferred seeing the Professor arrested and taken into custody so he could answer for his crimes; Holmes himself wished he'd had the chance of clearing up many mysteries since he knew enough about Moriarty to understand the mastermind had been intelligent enough to cover his tracks, and he had orchestrated the murders of many people, and Holmes was aware he was responsible for much more besides that. But Moriarty was dead now; he had proven himself to be a worthy opponent, but while he was as capable of the more unorthodox martial arts as Holmes himself, the detective had gained the upper hand, but that didn't surprise him.

Moriarty had spent too much time behind the scenes, but he had still been an expert and worthy opponent. Holmes would miss him, although he had known for a long time a confrontation like this had been drawing closer for some time; ever since he had begun piecing together the clues from a handful of mysteries, ranging from blackmails, forged paintings, murders and thefts, and even a kidnapping or two, Holmes had realised the ones who were caught could not have done it; when he had met them thanks to the police contacts he'd amassed from Jones to Lestrade, Holmes had known they were clever, but some details of the crimes themselves had been thought through differently than what they would have come up with by themselves.

It was little things that even some of the best detectives working for the police would never have seen for themselves; hints from their records they preferred a different approach to commit crimes, insider information they would have found difficult to get on their own. The logical conclusion would be they'd had help.

But whom?

At the same time… Sherlock Holmes had been aware whomever the organiser was, they had an intellect comparable to his own; more than once over his career he had imagined himself committing various crimes. His methodology would be relatively simple.

He would create a network who would listen out for secrets, information, and he would pay them a generous amount for it before he focused his mind on investigating the information to ensure its validity before coming up with a plan with many contingencies before he assembled the best people to work it through. If it were a big job, he would likely take personal charge, although Holmes was certain Moriarty knew that was a dangerous move.

But his main modus operandi would be to ensure others performed the work, while ensuring the plan and the intelligence behind the operations were so perfect, nobody would ever suspect a mastermind was behind it and Holmes knew that Moriarty had fully expected nobody would cotton on and realise he was out there. Oh, he would know the underworld would reverberate with his name, but as long as he kept silent and kept far from his operatives then nobody would pay any attention, and write them off as rumours and a myth.

At the time, he hadn't been able to do anything about it. He had then gone under disguise to learn as much as he could, and he had come back to Baker St with knowledge of a mastermind by the name of Moriarty. Over time his knowledge of the Professor had grown until he had learnt Moriarty was a professor of some phenomenal mathematical talent, with a prodigious intellect.

When he had come up with the plan to escape from London, Britain, Holmes had done it with the aid of travelling somewhere in order to find a way to take Moriarty into custody. He had known it would not be easy; given how intelligent the Professor was, capturing him would have been a proven difficulty. At the same time, he'd had the second option of orchestrating Moriarty's demise.

It would have been regrettable since the Professor's capture would have ensured the solving of many crimes being committed over the years, but as they said about the hydra, lop off its heads and the creature died; it was a crude analogy given how large and complex the Professor would have made his organisation.

Holmes had had it worked out; before leaving England and leaving for the continent in order to outwit Moriarty, he would have allowed certain details to slip. Naturally enough the Professor would have guessed there was a trap; Holmes would have been disappointed by the Professor's intellect if he hadn't suspected that much, but he had not left too many clues behind, hoping the arrogance of the mastermind would have been sufficient enough to blind him to the reality of what was happening.

Holmes climbed a little bit higher, knowing that Moriarty was not alone. The Professor would have brought some men with him as a precaution in case things went wrong, or if he were compromised in some fashion. He had no idea where they were, but it was likely they were close, it was also likely they had been trailing after him and Moriarty. It was likely they had witnessed their leader fall to his death; Holmes looked around himself, suddenly concerned for his surroundings, and he sighed under his breath with relief when he saw for himself that he was undercover thanks to the trees. But he knew it would not protect him forever.

Sooner or later one of Moriarty's men were bound to spot him, and when that happened then he would be shot; he could not let that happen, especially after all the trouble he had gone through to survive.

"HOLMES!"

The sound of Watson's voice nearly made the detective leap out of his hiding place in shock, and reflexively Holmes almost called out to his friend, but he stopped himself just in time. Watson called out again, his voice echoing down into the waterfall and the surrounding countryside, but Holmes had to close his eyes to resist the temptation to call back to his friend and ignore the doctor's desperate attempts to find him. Holmes risked a chance and he looked down at the same path where he and Moriarty had fought each other. He could just make out Watson standing close to the edge, yelling down before he found the note Holmes had left behind to be found. Holmes stayed there for an hour, watching as Watson was soon joined by a few members of the Swiss police. When they were finished with their work, and they departed Holmes closed his eyes in regret, hating that he had essentially faked his death and deceived his best friend. But he'd had no choice; there was still much to do. He would need to travel far from here while Moriarty's gang were prosecuted after being thoroughly questioned, and then he would be safe to return to Baker St.