I'm sorry it took so long and that it's such a short one, school keeps me very busy. And thank you for keep reading, favouriting, commenting and following, it means a lot I will do my best to publish the next chapter very soon 3
Sherlock was sitting in his chair. His palms were pressed together under his lower lip in the exact same way he used to sit during his thinking processes back in the days when he was still worthy to be called "a genius". Even though it was a video, the picture on the screen stayed still. No motion but the gentle drifting of clouds could have been spotted.
His back straight, his eyes focused, his breathing slow and his face expressionless.
Moriarty was sitting behind him, impatiently tapping his fingers together.
When a little black squared car appeared, Sherlock immediately identified it to be a London cab and stopped just in front of the building's entrance. It took him less than a second to recognize the tough looking, blond man who was sitting in the back sit. "John", the word forced itself out of his mouth and came out as a whisper, he instantly regretted saying it but he didn't make the slightest movement in order to hide his thoughts from the psychic sitting behind him.
Moriarty smiled, lifted himself of the bed and slowly walked to Sherlock's direction until he was standing right behind him. Sherlock could feel his cold hands on the back of the little chair. He didn't dare to turn around and look, but also didn't want to. After all this time, he finally got a glimpse of his friend. He just wanted to keep looking, never take his eyes off the screen. But he knew what was coming. At the moment he saw John he realized what that building was. The two man watched as John and Sarah got out of the cab. Sarah first and then John and his cane. The look on John's face when Sarah helped him out, that look of shame and sadness, hurt Sherlock in a way nothing has ever had.
After all, it was his fault.
"You said he lives." He whispered again, but this time loud enough for Moriarty to hear. Even though he knew Moriarty won't be stupid enough to kill John at that point he had to make sure. "Really Sherlock?!" Moriarty took a squared little object out his pocket and tossed it to Sherlock. "Recognize?" Sherlock examined the object carefully. However, he really didn't need to. It was his old cell phone. At once he realized what Moriarty wanted him to do. Genius. Oh, that was such a beautiful scam. It couldn't possibly go wrong. But how could he do that to John, again.
Still, the sight of his friend, who had surprisingly enough has grown a moustache, paralyzed him. He wanted to give him a few peaceful moments, as many as he possibly could before doing what had to be done. "Oh btw," Sherlock glanced at the other man. "I just assume you realize that if you don't do it, I will. Only, I won't spare John".
As much as Sherlock hated that fact, time was up. He dialed the old familiar number one more time. "Before you speak, remember-" "If I give even the slightest hint of where I think I am, that it's me , that you're involved or anything of that sort. Bang" Sherlock couldn't help himself to interrupt. "Good," Moriarty murmured to himself. "I thought you've lost it". Sherlock pressed the button, his fingers shaking just a little bit, he had to think of a story that John will believe and that's going to make him leave Sarah after they've clearly had a very intense conversation by the looks on their faces.
The phone rang and he waited impatiently. Trying to find something to say but he couldn't think of anything.
