CHAPTER 65. CHECK
Moriarty was proving to be a bit more difficult than what Sherlock anticipated; in fact he was guilty of underestimating the mad man and his organization.
"Sherlock! We need to coordinate!" John growled jerking his handcuffed wrist back as Sherlock climbed over a tall gate in a dark alley.
Sherlock snapped out of his musings, how could he have nearly forgotten he was handcuffed to John. His friend was grinning despite the cold London air and the fact that the two were now fugitives from the law.
"I was supposed to be having diner with Mary tonight. Tell me-" John grunted climbing over the gate and jumping down. "-how is it that you always manage to ruin a good date. I just met this girl and I liked her. "
"Well John it wasn't my idea to bean the Super Intendant." Sherlock rolled his eyes pulling his short legged friend down another alley. John was laughing now.
"You're right that was my fault but he had it coming!"
"Really John you never had such a short temper. I'm not entirely convinced the army was a great idea."
"Well I did learn how to swear in Russian and a complimentary bullet in the shoulder sometimes I wonder the same."
Sherlock halted outside Kitty Riley's building, "I give the police an hour before someone tips them off where we are."
"Well away we go. After you." Sherlock rolls his eyes and the two make their way up the fire escape and through the woman's open bathroom window. It was all so easy almost too easy.
"And of course she has hideous décor." Sherlock huffed plopping down next to his friend on the small couch.
"Sherlock don't you think we should call Mycroft?" John made a face as if it physically hurt to ask such a question.
The dark haired detective shakes his head, not willing to say it was part Mycroft's fault they were in this situation. Something about that name Richard Brooke wasn't right, but Sherlock needed to confirm it.
He glanced at the small table grabbing for a hair pin, it took less than a minute to pick the metal cuffs. John rubbed his bruised wrist and smiled gratefully, "So we wait for her is that the plan."
Sherlock nodded glancing down at the paper, it was dated for tomorrow, reading the first few paragraphs made him snort. John curiously picked up the paper but he didn't have a chance to read it when in walked Kitty Riley and a very exhausted looking James Moriarty. A very dressed down humble looking sociopath, it was John who started forward angrily.
"You!"
"What the hell!" Kitty exclaimed jumping at the sight of the duo.
"You said I would be safe here." James whined, playing the part of a terrified man perfectly.
"Richard, you are safe. I'll call the police!"
"Richard?" John snapped, "Richard! This is James Moriarty!"
"No, tell them Kitty, tell him. Please doctor Watson you're a good man a noble man. He paid me, he paid me to pretend-"
"You shut up! Stop this! You lie! You strapped me to a bloody bomb!"
"No, it was all a hoax." Jim was holding Kitty in front of him like a shield, his voice a pathetic half sob.
"You're Richard Brooke?" Sherlock snorted. "I should have guessed and of course you have evidence." Sherlock sounded annoyed. This caused John to turn away from the mad man behind the stupid reporter.
"Sherlock?" Kitty pulled a file from her handbag.
"Here it's all there, everything proof you hired this poor man to play a villain that you orchestrated all these crimes!"
John snatched the folder from her, his anger rising he'd realized he was holding the damn paper still, tomorrows paper.
"This isn't-this is a load of shit! " John growled and dove for Moriarty wanting to strangle the skinny bastard but he shot up the stairs John followed ignoring Kitty's yells and threat to call the police.
To late James was out the small window in the bathroom and down the fire escape, John swore angrily wishing he had his gun.
"Come on John best not stick around." Sherlock climbed through the window but John rounded on Kitty who was just ending her call to the police.
"You will regret printing this!"
"Will I? Is that a threat Doctor Watson. Looks to me you were taken in just like everyone else."
"I grew up with this man. These things are fabrications there is very little truth to this. I'm warning you-"
"What? Are you going to have me killed? Perhaps frame me as well?" The woman squared her shoulders crossing her arms over her chest.
"You are making a mistake and one day I'll be there to laugh when your career goes down in flames. After the truth comes out you wont be able to find a job at the print shop selling ads for dry cleaning and used beauty products!"
"John!" Sherlock snapped from the fire escape the doctor turned and climbed out after his friend.
The two stood in the street, "I'm going to the morgue I have to speak to Molly about the samples of bacteria we found in the shoes."
"Fine. I'll catch up with you." Sherlock didn't ask John where he was going there was too much to think on at the moment.
~0~
John had one destination in mind, the Diogenes club, having been there enough the man at the door let him in without hesitation. John went straight for Mycroft's office and sat in the chair near the fire, his majesty wasn't in and the room felt empty and colder.
The army doctor tried to calm his racing heart and thoughts, thing were out of control. Mycroft could fix this, Mycroft could fix anything, after all he would do anything for his little brother. John leaned back to relax annoyed that he was holding the folded up article for tomorrow's paper. He started to read again and it dawned on him slowly like the idiot he was.
"Stupid John!" the doctor groaned.
"Talking to one self is a sign of insanity John, I think keeping company with my-"
"It was you." John cut the older Holmes off, the older man sat down behind his desk, he didn't reply.
"It was you. You-" John took a deep breath. "Moriarty was looking for the perfect ammunition to take Sherlock down and you've given it to him! It's a pack of lies wrapped up in a thin layer of truth and people will believe it!"
"John-"
"Explain it to me Mycroft." John tossed the paper on the floor shaking his head he rubbed his temples. "You've worked so hard to keep Sherlock safe. Safe from himself, safe from drugs and even-even from me! But this mad man! You allowed him to waltz in. This fucking criminally insane sociopath has an obsession with your little brother and you-you hand deliver him."
"John-let me explain."
And Mycroft did, he explained that it was the country or his brother. That Moriarty only wanted a little information and he would talk. It seemed meaningless at the time. The older Holmes thought he was winning that he held all the cards, this bit of pride was his undoing.
John stood shaking his head, his jaw clinched. "For such a bloody genius you are an idiot Mycroft Holmes."
"John tell him I'm sorry-"
John was already marching out of the room leaving the door open, it was more effective than slamming the door.
The silence was almost consuming as the older Holmes sat alone in his office, he glanced at the paper John had left.
~0~
Sherlock watched John from across the room, Molly had surprised the consulting detective with her observation. He couldn't help but go over her words, their wasn't anything empty about them, she meant what she said.
He tried to think of a way out, things were snow balling and it was all his fault for underestimating his opponent.
He thought of John from that first day he'd met him, John walking to the library. The blond could have kept going but he didn't, it wasn't his nature to let things happen if he could stop it. Even out numbered John faced down bullies because it was the right thing to do.
Countless times in school John had stood up to taunting idiots, he accepted their cruel words. He was a scholarship kid they said he smelled funny, he spoke funny his clothes were hand me downs. This wasn't true, John's clothes were new just like Sherlock's' At the time both boys were under the understanding that it came with the scholarship. Had John given up and decided to ignore Sherlock school would have been easier, but he didn't.
John would face down Moriarty like he faced down those bullies in the park. The ones ready to pummel a six year old boy who couldn't help but point out their flaws and secrets.
Here he was a fugitive from the law because he once again decided to play the loyal friend.
Mycroft was right, Sherlock led a dangerous life and it wasn't fair to drag John down with him.
He made his choice then, and it left his heart aching. Was this how Mycroft felt when he came up with decisions that had affected Sherlock's life. No Mycroft didn't care, he did it out of a sense of obligation. That was what Sherlock would always be to his brother, but John-John was more than that.
Sherlock leaned back in his chair watching his friend try not to nod off, John trusted they would find a way out of this mess together. Simple, loyal and trusting John. Remembering the emotions that nearly overwhelmed the detective when that CIA agent held a gun to John's head, when the idiot of a man started a count down. Sherlock found his mind going blank before the answer came to him nearly to late.
He couldn't risk that again, John said friends protect each other, he had always said that. Except it has always been John protecting Sherlock, and Sherlock frowned remembering the bruises that lined his friend's back, the broken arm and the bloodied nose. He hadn't done anything for John, he earned him a bullet in the shoulder, and almost being blown up.
He sent a text to one of his more reliable homeless network associates. Shortly after the exhausted John received a call, that was Sherlock's cue to text Moriarty.
The players on the board would be moved, and John was never good at chess.