Mrs. Hudson's welcome was beyond their best expectation. She knocked them on heads, backs and shoulders.
"Ouch." John couldn't help it when he got hit heavily on the injured shoulder.
"You deserve this." Mrs. Hudson was already in tears as well as l laughing. "You didn't make a single visit to me…" with these words she left, obviously preparing tea and cookies. "Go upstairs, boys. You'd love what you see."
They exchanged a shocked face, what did she do to their dining room.
And she did nothing, but kept it the way it was, only tidier.
When Mrs. Hudson brought tea and cookies up, they each gave her a giant hug.
"So you didn't come back at all, why?" When they were alone again, Sherlock said.
But John was thinking something else. "You said I missed all the important hints."
"I didn't. You did, if that's what you mean."
"And you didn't deny. You, Mr. Grammar didn't correct it when the map is only one missing line."
A weird silence fell between them.
"Good," Sherlock cleared his throat, "Now I can see you progress in grammar, rather impression I'd say."
"You know what I'm talking, Sherlock," John looked into his eyes, "And I know what the other missing pieces are."
John was satisfied to see Sherlock squirm a little uncomfortably under his gaze, and he went on, "The biggest piece I almost totally missed, what's that all about. The murderers, the hints, the rumors with extraordinary accurate details hidden by police all over the papers and internet? You want to share your theory with me, or you would admit of total ignorance?"
For a second, the detective seemed pricked. But he simply nod, "Go on, John."
"Do
Moriaty's work or plan to seduce you appear. They knew you won't watch it happen if you had the last breath on earth. And they are right. You come, and there is something waiting for you.
He looked up to catch Sherlock's face. "You already know where it is."
Sherlock said nothing.
"I'd look it up on map, even without your guide." With these words, John opened his laptop.
He then heard a voice coming from back of his neck. "I regret to tell you about the map."
"Try to regret more."
"John?"
"You know exactly what I mean." John insisted, "And I know what the missing link is."
"You do?" Sherlock got stiff a bit, and dangerously narrowed his eyes towards John.
"Donovan said once, and we all had this feeling. All the cases, dead bodies, horrible scars and riddles, they reminded us of Moriaty." John said quietly. "Even he was dead."
Sherlock turned away his gaze from John.
"That's what all these about, isn't it? He was behind it. His people are carrying his back-up plan in case you are alive, and for God's sake, you are."
"And you seem disappointed."
"Don't," John took a deep breathe, "Don't try to change the topic, and don't you get me started on this, which I assure you would get you deserved. And now, just let me finish."
"John, Moriaty was dead, he got no followers. So once again, wrong."
"Because you are chasing after them, isn't it? Don't tell me you were on holiday while playing dead, because I won't take it and driving taxi is by no means refreshing. Maybe Moriaty had no followers, but there must be people who want to take his method against you, and they seduced you out already. That's my deduction; now tell me, Mr. Detective," John tipped his head, "Am I wrong?"
Sherlock stared at him for a long pause. Then he admitted with flatly, "I'd take it as a warm welcome."
Another pause. "Yes." John said, opening his arms, "It is. Welcome back, Sherlock." He hugged the detective a little on shoulder, as if changing his mind half way. Sherlock smiled, "And don't call me Mr. Detective ever again, never."
"So what's his next move?" John made two cups of tea from the kitchen, asking.
"What?"
"Hey!" John said in disbelief. "His plan, Moriaty wanted to get you, his plan won't stop here."
"Oh, that." Sherlock looked as if just awake from daydreaming.
"You are not trying to hide anything away from me, do you?" John cleared his throat, "You know something already. I thought we are clear that I'm in this time."
"Yes, you are." Sherlock quickly stood up from sofa, "A long day and I'd like some sleep, good night, John."
John sat still, then shouted at his back, "I'd find it out anyway, on the map, as you've told me."
If John wasn't mistaken, the detective's figure shook a little, then firmly disappeared into his room.
"A nose, two eyes," John murmured to himself, "Mouth seems to be a good start."
John tried mouth, ears, and brows. For a moment he remembered the man had said once, "I'd burn your heart", then tried to locate a heart on the map, but soon gave up the idea. He looked closely at tangled lines of London map, till everything became a meaningless blur. Before he could notice, John fell asleep on the sofa.