Hundreds of footsteps coming from his shack and towards it. He must have missed them while being lost in his thoughts. He was there. He knew that now. Moriarty has found him and he was not alone. There was no point in running away from Moriarty having his people surrounding him. Slowly he paced towards the shack's door. Every breath tearing his lungs, every heartbeat pounding in his ears as if his heart was trying to drive him out of it, to make him turn around and even though that it was a long shot to try and escape but he knew his chances and was too proud for allowing Moriarty see that he is frightened or being carried into the cabin like a pig for slaughter.
So he just kept walking and slowly he reached the door. His heart now racing. It was slightly open and that was the moment he knew he was right. He took a deep breath, pulled himself together and after a slight moment of hesitation he pushed it gently. It opened.
He walked in, scanning it with his eyes. It seemed empty but a weak squeaking noise from the kitchen's door gave away that it wasn't.
The door opened and a thin, short, blacked haired figure appeared in front of him.
"Not dead then?" the strident voice said. He looked just as Sherlock remembered him. "I can ask you the same question." Sherlock replied in a calm and even sarcastic voice even though he was really scared to death. "Yes, I assume you can." he took an apple from the table and started eating it. "It's been a long journey, you don't mind do you?!" a rhetorical question of course. "Ho and I hope you also wouldn't mind that I took this" he took a mobile phone out of his pocket and tossed it to Sherlock who caught it moving only his hand. "I thought you'd want that back" he said and as if it was some sort of a personal joke he started laughing "you really thought that I wouldn't find it before John?! There was a bigger chance for him to get that message if you had sent it or left the phone on the body! Did you really think that he will notice that there was no phone on the body?"
How the hell did Moriarty get his phone? But after a second he remembered. He had this idea, at the day of the fall, he knew that John had to be convincing while being watched by the snipers so they won't kill him or any of the others but even though Sherlock knew it was a bad idea he thought that maybe after convincing the snipers that he was indeed dead there would be no harm in telling John the truth. Of course he couldn't do it himself or sending any of the people who helped him because he still needed their help. He couldn't risk that in case Moriarty was still watching.
So he had a brilliant idea, probably the stupidest idea he ever had. Before going on the roof he wrote a text message on his phone for John but didn't send it. After talking to John he visibly dropped the phone there so maybe, John will see it falling and will go to pick it up as some sort of sentimental memorial or something and will see the text message.
"It was really moving," Moriarty's high voice brought his mind back to the shack where they were both standing. "That message you wrote." He smiled at him. His humorless smile stopped Sherlock's breath for a moment. "Dear John," he started quoting, the fact that he knew the message by heart was creepy, frightening and a bit ironic at the same time and he wondered where he was going with that. He did have an idea but this time he really wanted to be wrong.
"If you're reading this, my plan has succeeded. I'm sorry about the pain I've caused you or any other bad feeling but I had no choice. I'm not dead and one day I will be back. Don't worry about me and under any circumstances, don't ever try to find me.
I hope you'll find the strength to forgive me, I am terribly sorry. SH"
The humorless smile was replaced by an even more humorless, cold, shrill laughter that pounded in his ears and dried his throat. "And I thought that you'll be smarter than that." He said as if he was disappointed in him. "But there's one thing that still bothers me..." Sherlock knew what was coming and started to fear that he was actually right.
"How did you do it? What did I miss?" he smiled. For the first time since he walked through that door he knew something that Moriarty didn't. He gathered the little amount of confidence he got left and said "And just why do you think I'm going to tell you?" Moriarty smiled. "If you had, I'd be really disappointed."
Moriarty seemed weirdly pleased with himself and remained silent, Sherlock was anxious to hear the rest of the sentence, his hands started to shiver a bit, not enough for Moriarty to see but enough for Sherlock to lose his calm impression. "Well then," Moriarty continued and as he did Sherlock's breath became faster. "You can keep that to yourself." This came as a total surprise to him. He was sure that, being as obsessed as he is, Moriarty won't let go until he knows the answer. "I'm sorry, what?" he didn't even control it, the words just slipped out. "You will tell me, eventually. So there's no need to rush it, is there?!" He didn't like the sound of it. Eventually meant that they're going to spend some time together and Sherlock didn't like the idea. "Well it was a nice chat but it's business time now." It was getting even worse, the look on Moriarty's face gave away that it's not going to be a pleasant deal. Sherlock wasn't a fan of the idea and suddenly running away seemed like the best solution.
The fact that Moriarty was busy being pleased with himself made Sherlock think that he wasn't concentrating on him. So he, slowly, started to move backwards which was, obviously, a grave mistake.
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