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Chapter Three: We're Going Home

"What's going on?" I asked Mycroft who was getting back out of his car. He had just stepped in and started driving away, but then he stopped and got out. Mary and I were just about to leave but if Mycroft was coming back then we assumed that we should too. Mycroft was on the phone, telling someone to turn the plane around. I assumed that it meant the plane that Sherlock just took off in but I couldn't quite believe it.

After Sherlock had shot Charles Augustus Magnussen in the head to protect Mary and I, he was being sent away, and only had 6 months to live. He had just taken off in his own private plane, never to come home. We'd said goodbye and everything. But with what Mycroft was saying, it looked like that was about to change.

"Go take a look," Mycroft said in reply to my question, gesturing at the door to his car. I sped over to look inside. On the small GPS screen that was built into the car, was Moriarty. He kept repeating "did you miss me?" in a voice that I didn't recognize. But it sounded like and adult trying to speak in a child's voice.

"Oh my God," I said.

"What is it?" Mary said from beside me. I got out of the car and let her in.

"It's Moriarty," I told her, "The one who made Sherlock jump."

I helped her get back on her feet then she said, "You're not serious?"

"That is completely him. We need Sherlock," I turned to Mycroft who was coming up on my left.

"He's on his way back," Mycroft said.

"How is he alive?" I asked, half to myself.

"John, we do not know if he is actually alive. This could have just been something that James Moriarty left for us," Mycroft said like Mary and I were children.

"But then how did he know that he would die, Mycroft?! How did Moriarty know he was going to die?! And why would he do this if he wasn't coming back?!" I yelled.

Mycroft looked slightly taken aback, "That is why Sherlock is returning," he said. He then shooed us away from his car to prevent further conversation.

Mary rubbed my back with her hand, "Sherlock will solve this. I know he will," she comforted.

"Mary, you don't understand. Moriarty was clever. I'd say almost as good as Sherlock, maybe better. If he's back, then we're all in danger," I said, looking at Mary, then down to her stomach which was round with 7 months.

I snapped around when I saw the plane become visible through the clouds. It was heading in our direction, and minutes later it landed. Almost as soon as it stopped, Sherlock was flying out the door, eager to get on the case.

I was speechless when he came to my side instead of Mycroft, who had the information for the case.

"John, did you see it?" He said, with a look of concern in his eyes.

"I saw it. It's Moriarty, Sherlock."

"I know, Mycroft told me."

"Sherlock-" I started, but Sherlock interrupted me.

"John, I have no idea. But he is alive!" Sherlock strode over to Mycroft, Mary and I followed shortly behind him.

"Ah, Sherlock, long time no see," Mycroft joked.

"Cut it out with the sarcasm, Mycroft. You're the least funny person on the planet and that's really saying something. I mean, have you met John?"

It took me a moment to process that one, but by the time I had they were onto a new subject.

"Have you got any brilliant ideas, brother dear?" Mycroft asked Sherlock.

"We need to track that signal, it has to give us some kind of lead," Sherlock thought aloud.

"We've got someone on that already," Mycroft said. "But it's not looking good."

"Then we have to start from the beginning," Sherlock said, "on the day that I died, how did you find out that Moriarty was dead?"

"I didn't see it myself but your friend Gregory Lestrade reliably informed me that they found his body on the roof."

"That's what he told me too," I put in.

"And then we buried it under your grave. But again, I didn't see the body," Mycroft added.

I looked at him in astonishment, "That is just wrong, Mycroft! I was talking to Moriarty's body for those entire 2 years when I thought I was talking to Sherlock? That is wrong!"

"It wasn't my choice."

"Yes well you could have stopped it," I glared at him, even though I wasn't that upset about it. But Mycroft needed to know what's wrong and right and it worked, Mycroft looked sort of ashamed but was trying hard not to show it.

"So maybe he had someone working with him at St. Bart's," I suggested, changing the subject.

Sherlock looked down at me, "Then that's where we start."

1 year earlier…

There was a knock on my door and when I looked up my favourite employee was standing in my doorway. I greeted him with a smile and gestured for him to come inside.

"Hello, Sebastian, my friend. How is it going?" I asked.

"Jim, we have a problem," He said gravely.

I stood up, and walked towards him slowly, dramatically and threateningly. I walked until my face was inches away from his, and said nothing. I just stared at him.

"Jim, don't take this personally, but-"

"Spit it out," I whispered.

"Sherlock Holmes is alive," he said.

"What?" I said calmly.

"He survived," Sebastian Moran said, wincing.

"How did he survive?" I said, trying to keep my voice from raising to a yell.

"I'm sorry, Jim, I don't know," he said, trying to step away.

I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to me, "Well then you'd better find out." I shoved him away and stormed over to the window.

I started out quiet, then began to yell until my throat hurt, "How, how, how, how. HOW DID HE DO THIS?! How did he out do me that is impossible. He should be dead!" I quickly turned to face Sebastian again and said quietly, "How long?"

"Excuse me, sir?"

"How long has he been alive?" I spat.

"A week."

"You waited a week to tell me this?"

"I have been working in the lab. I have been locked in there for days, it was Edgar who told me."

"Edgar…" I thought. Edgar had chosen the form of a chubby little man with a big voice. Everyone knew him as the incapable idiot because of his short size. We wouldn't be lost if he was gone, "kill him. Order someone on Earth to kill him now!"

"Yes, Jim, but you should know as well that Sherlock has convinced everyone that he didn't hire you. That James Moriarty was real."

I thought about that for a minute. It was going to big news that the world's most famous detective has returned from the dead. That was without the fact that the entire human race had been tricked by one man when all odds were screaming otherwise. It was disappointing really. I'd heard so many great things about the humans but they were as easy to trick as dogs. The whole thing was sure to attract unwanted attention. We needed to kill Sherlock Holmes before he attracted the man. Before he attracted the Doctor.

"I can't stay dead," I said.

"What do you mean? The device isn't ready yet," Sebastian protested.

"Well you're just going to have to hurry it up, Sebby. If the Doctor finds out that Sherlock Holmes is alive, then we are hopeless and we cannot let that happen," I said in a threatening tone. I said it in a way that made sure he knew that if he screwed up, then he would end up like Edgar.

"We will."

I strode back over to the window and ripped open the thick, black curtains. Outside the window, the sun shone from behind the Earth. It was such a beautiful sight to see the planet that would soon be mine.

"Boys. We're going home!" I smiled.

"The game is on!"

-Sherlock Holmes