Six months earlier…
Sherlock's phone rang, the sound echoing around the lab where he and John sat. He sighed and looked at the screen before lazily answering it.
"Hello? Yes. Oh. Reaaaaaaaaly." He said, very sarcastically. "No she isn't. Nice try." Sherlock hung up.
"Who was it?" John asked.
"Oh nothing, some stupid person trying to convince me that Mrs. Hudson was shot. Obviously a fake call." He said nonchalantly, putting the phone back in his pocket. There was a quiet knock on the door and Molly peeked in.
"Sherlock can you, um help me with something? It'll only take a minute or two." She asked.
"Of course." Sherlock stood up and went out the door with Molly, leaving John alone in the lab. He sighed. It was very quiet for a few moments, and then John's phone rang. He answered.
"Hello? Yes. Right. And you're sure there's no other way…okay. I'll be up in a few." John hung up sadly. Sighing, he got up and left the lab. Little did he know, that he was not to return there for over two years.
Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother you're stayin alive, stayin alive
Uh uh uh uh stayin alive, stayin alive
Uh uh uh uh stayin aliiiiiiiiiiiiiive woo!
John stepped onto the roof of St. Bart's Hospital. Jim Moriarty himself was sitting on the edge of the roof, the song playing from his phone. He looked up upon hearing the door close. A smirk grew on his face as he shut off the song.
"Well well well, here at last." Moriarty said as he stood up. "Wasn't so sure if you were coming." John cautiously walked over to where Jim was sitting. "No need to be scared Watson, I'm not going to hurt you."
"I was in the war, why do you think I would be afraid of you?" John said. Jim just laughed.
"Because I know that you are." Jim clasped his hands behind his back.
"What do you want? Why did you call me? Why not Sherlock?" John asked. The wind was strong up on the roof, he noticed, his eyes were stinging from the rush of cold air.
"Oh believe me, I would have called old Sherly but admit it, he would have tried to outsmart me. That might not have ended very well for me. Besides, you have more…how shall I put it? Importance." Jim was walking in circles around John now, which was a very unsettling experience.
"Importance?" John scoffed. "You're saying that I'm more important than the most genius man alive?"
"Well…yes. In most cases that is exactly what I'm saying. Now listen to me. I personally can't kill Sherlock without taking my own life. Besides, just killing him or making him commit suicide, it's all well and good but just not big enough. Not grand enough." Jim stopped circling, stopping right in front of John's face.
"What do you mean? Stop playing riddles and tell me what you called me here for."
"I thought you already knew?" Jim paused and then smiled. "Oh right. You're not Sherlock. You're stupid, just like everybody else. You're here for your suicide of course."
This took a moment for John to register. His suicide. He hadn't even come close to considering this for months, ever since his new life began with Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson. Sure, he had had many suicidal thoughts after the war, but now…
"My suicide?" John whispered. Jim was right.
He was scared.