Here it is- the chapter that will explain everything. Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to review!

[Sherlock]

Well, this was an unexpected turn-up. And by unexpected, I meant horrifying and slightly nauseating. Moriarty was still grinning at me from the doorway, and he looked rather different from when I had last seen him. They were minor differences, ones a normal person would ignore completely, and that's why they stood out so much to me. His hair was ruffled and he had a slight stubble on his cheeks. Not caring as much for his appearance, then. He must have had a hard time after his "death". The suit he wore was still designer, but there were obvious creases, showing that he didn't care enough about it any more to have it treated specially. He almost seemed like a new man, but I didn't think this was a particularly good thing. Probably the most worrisome difference was in his eyes. There were black circles underneath, which suggested he didn't sleep much anymore, and though they were still dark and calculating, there was also a hint of complete insanity that I was certain had not been so prominent before. I got all that from barely a few seconds of concentration, leading me to believe that Jim Moriarty no longer cared for his own welfare. He was only back for the game, which obviously had not ended in his thoughts.

"I watched you die..." I said, and managed to keep my voice even, which was no small feat considering what I was feeling inside. Moriarty rolled his eyes at the question.

"Oh, come on now! How hard is it to fake your death? Apparently anyone can do it, as you have just effectively demonstrated. Really, I thought you'd have been less surprised to see me back, I mean, a gun with fake bullets isn't that difficult to acquire, is it? I needed to be sure that your heart was effectively burned before I could end our game, and from the looks of it, that hasn't happened yet. So you get me for a little while longer. Isn't that great?" His face was lit up in an expression of childish glee that made me sick to look at.

"Why don't you just get it over with, then? You've been around long enough, no one tracking you, why have you waited this long to do anything?" I asked, genuinely confused. He didn't seem like the patient sort of person.

This was apparently a hilariously stupid question, for Jim burst out into an uncontrollable fit of giggles that left me very worried indeed, and it turned out I had a reason to be.

"You- you think I haven't done anything?! That I just wasted three years?! No, no, no! That's a very idiotic conclusion, Sherlock, and I didn't think you were an idiot at all!" He continued with his laughing, a smirk sitting proudly on his pale face.

"Well?" I prompted eventually, unable to stand the suspense and annoying chuckles any longer.

"Well, firstly, did you enjoy that little trip in the forest a few nights ago? It seemed you were a little confused, and very wet by the end of it!"

I gasped in realisation. "That was you? I cried, succeeding in extracting a nod from Moriarty, who then proceeded to launch into a detailed explanation of how he'd placed the drug into the tea before it was delivered.

"That still doesn't explain why I found no trace of it?" I asked solemnly, fully believing that that was the worst thing he had done. How wrong I was.

"Oh, Sherlock! How many times do I have to explain it to you? When you're in my position, getting hold of anything you could ever desire is easy, for example, an untraceable drug, that can easily be put into any kind of beverage! Silly, silly, next question..." He was still laughing, and the effort was shaking his body.

"Well, what now?" I asked, "What will you do now that you've got me here?"

"I'll burn the heart out of you, easy! I've found your weakness, tested how far you'd go with that fall of yours, and now I'm gonna break you."

"How so? What weakness?"

He smiled darkly at me for a few seconds before he answered. "John. He's your weakness."

My breath caught in my throat, and I felt myself shaking in anger. "Leave. Him. Out. Of. This! The game, it's between you and me. He doesn't need to be involved."

More laughter on Moriarty's part. It was really starting to aggravate me now. "He's been involved for a while now, Sherlock. In fact, all while you've been gone, he's been involved, and I've been preparing him."

This was not the answer I'd been expecting, and I really didn't know what he meant by it. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer, but it seemed he wasn't going to let me go until I'd heard everything.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked him, and my voice sounded small even to my own ears.

There was no laughter now, just malice and glee and insanity. He knew that what he was about to say would be a huge blow to me, and he was certainly going to savour the moment.

"Poor little Johnny, after your death he went right off the deep end, completely mad he was. But, you know what's really quite strange?" My eyes were glued to his face, watching his smile grow wider and wider with every word. "Well, he was fine during the few days before the funeral, then he just sort of, snapped, while at your grave. Tea, ghastly stuff, it changes people, and you would certainly know that!"

It didn't sink in at first, what he was implying. Oh, but then it did. And then, I couldn't quite believe it, and I didn't know how to react, what to do, what to say. Because nothing, not even my worst nightmares had prepared me for this. I should have seen it coming, I should have known.

"No," I whispered, and I somehow found myself on my knees, blinking back tears of grief and horror.

Moriarty knelt in front of me, still smiling, but now it was a cold smile. "Yes." He said, "All it took was a cup of tea. Its a new kind of drug, AT5 it's called. Very useful in my work. And it worked just so well on your pet, didn't it? Once a week, in his lovely cup of hot tea, and he didn't even realise. I just stood back and watched as he fell apart. Well, when you returned, I stopped. Let him think he was recovering, and then, BAM! You were hit with the same thing. Same symptoms, and, just as I had predicted, the poor man thought he was somehow influencing you!"

I gagged, it was all too much. The thought, it was just too awful. John, poor John, there hasn't been anything wrong with him at all. It was all Moriarty's doing. That bastard.

"You're a monster, a psychopath... You're insane..." I managed to choke out in his general direction, as I refused to look into his eyes and see the triumph I was sure would be present.

"It took you this long to figure it out? I'm certainly not impressed with you. All this talk about you being a genius, and you couldn't even deduce my plans! How disappointing..." The criminal shook his head in mock annoyance.

"Congrats. You've won, you beat me. Now leave us alone." I didn't want to engage him any further, but I wanted him to go so that I could have a private moment to let out all my emotion, and I knew I'd regret it if I tried to fight him. No doubt there would be guards nearby to break up a confrontation, and I had to find John.

"Leave? But I'm not done with you yet!" I froze, surely there couldn't be another catch, could there? He'd won, hadn't he?

"Your heart is still intact, Sherlock! And I never leave a job unfinished..." That evil grin was back on his face, and impossibly his eyes seemed even darker and more soulless than I had ever seen them. It wasn't hard to guess what he meant.

"Where's John?" I screamed at him, no longer caring about restraining my anger. "I swear, if you've hurt him..."

"Me? I haven't touched him!" Moriarty gave me a look of mock-outrage that I really wanted to punch off his smug face, but couldn't find the strength. "Although, if I were you, I'd hurry to get to him. He's out of his mind, and that poor police man that you like, what was his name? Oh! Lestrade, that was it, yeah, he got the worst of it. Silly man, John still had his gun down his trousers, and a cup of tea in his hand... I think you can guess what happened next!"

I couldn't take another word, it was all too much, but I had the feeling Moriarty wasn't finished. I was right.

"Where is John now?" I didn't want to ask, as I could guess where he'd gone, but it still came as a hard blow when Moriarty said the words.

"He's on top of St. Barts. And if hurry if I were you," the sick, twisted man leaned in for the maximum effect when the words rolled off his tongue,

"He's about to jump."

Need I say anything else? Please tell me that this was completely unexpected, it will make my day! I will be happy if even one of you tells me that this was the biggest plot twist you could have imagined for this story! (It's alright if it isn't, but I'd still appreciate a review telling me that I was too obvious) I'm sure you can guess what the next chapter will be about. It's been an honour to have such faithful reviewers such as yourselves, and I would like to thank all 97 of you for sticking with me this far. Really, it's been a pleasure.

Hopefully I will see you tomorrow, but considering I'll be in San Francisco you might have to forgive me if I post later than normal!

I hope this is a satisfying chapter. It was certainly thrilling to write.