Author's note: Thank you for reviewing, it made me so happy. You are invited to continue.

So, on with this story, with Moriarty in the picture. Or perhaps not. Who knows? I'm evil.

"Are you –" John realized that he had raised his voice and felt the stares of the others; without another word, he dragged Sherlock in the consulting detective's bedroom and closed the door behind them.

"Are you saying that Moriarty might be alive?"

"It is possible".

John sat down on the bed and took slow, even breaths. After Sherlock's death, he had not cared what had happened to the consulting criminal; he had known that, even if he had wanted revenge (and it seemed so pointless, with his best friend gone; everything seemed so pointless) he wouldn't have found him.

After Sherlock had returned and he found that his world had started turning again, he asked. Just once. And the consulting detective told him that Moriarty was dead, that Mycroft had had his body taken care of. And it was enough. He was dead and it was over.

It had been over.

"John" Sherlock said, his voice pained. The doctor realized that he wasn't the only one who had just had a shock. Moriarty had cost Sherlock much, more than any other, and John was only thinking about what it meant for himself. Ashamed, he stood up and opened his mouth, although he didn't know what he wanted to say.

Sherlock raised a hand and the words died on his tongue before he had a chance to speak them out loud.

"Don't. We have to concentrate on finding Trevelyan and returning home".

He knew Sherlock was focusing on what was important, he knew his best friend didn't want to talk, and yet John wanted to. He wanted to tell him that everything would be alright, even though Sherlock wouldn't believe him because there was no way he could know.

Then another thought came to him.

"Shouldn't we know?"

Sherlock shot him a puzzled look.

"If Moriarty was still alive – shouldn't we know? He would have been alive this whole time. We shouldn't remember that he was dead."

His voice grew stronger during his explanation. If time had changed, their memories should have changed too. It was only logical –

"I do not think it works that way".

"Why not?" he demanded impatiently. "If Trevelyan changed our world, it would be – "

"There has to be some paradox that allows people to remember – otherwise, he wouldn't be able to change anything because he wouldn't be able to recall that he did change things. And we are not in our own universe. It might be that any changes don't affect us because of that" Sherlock argued calmly.

"But –" John stopped himself. He understood Sherlock. The consulting detective had a point. He simply didn't want to believe it. But he had to. Otherwise he would be of no use.

Sherlock gave him to understand with a look that he thought their discussion had gone on long enough, and John agreed with him. He opened the door and they joined the others in the living room.

John, who was sitting in his chair, let his gaze sweep over them, most likely trying to deduce what they had talked about. The doctor was certain that, but for Bill, he would have listened to their conversation.

"Have your finished your – "

Bill interrupted him. "It's none of our business."

"We are working on a case – "

"John".

Sherlock recognized the tone as the one John had used in Dartmoor, after they had saved Henry Knight, and it had the same effect on the consulting detective as it had had on him. John was silent.

"As a matter of fact" Sherlock began, and despite the doctor obviously being confused as to why he should tell them – and it was typical of him, the human belief that the less people knew about what had happened the less real it got – he considered it better that they knew "we have a theory. We believe that a change has already taken place."

"What change?"

He had forgotten about Jim. He was standing next to Mike in front of the fireplace, and his question was asked so innocently, out of well-meaning curiosity, that Sherlock found himself unable to answer him.

The man frowned, obviously concerned, and it was enough to remind Sherlock that this wasn't Moriarty. However, he would probably not appreciate to hear about his counterpart, so he decided to carefully choose his words as he replied, "There was a criminal – one of the most dangerous men we ever encountered. He died a few years ago. We believe that Trevelyan might have used Pike's death to save his life".

He knew before he turned around that John had deduced what he hadn't said, heard the intake of breath that usually came before a statement of his, and he didn't doubt that he would have said it, would have shocked Jim and Mike and probably endangered the case – after all, the IT tech was the only one who had given them any information – but Bill, who seemed to realize that what his friend was about to say wouldn't help the situation, spoke before he could.

"And I assume that's not good."

"Yes" Sherlock confirmed, "it's a bit not good."

"And now – "

"We find Trevelyan" Sherlock said, "and we try to get back to our universe."

Changing it back to what it was before was a whole different matter. Pike was dead; and even if they had Trevelyan and could force him to take them home – it wasn't certain that he could return Moriarty to his grave. It might be that he was unable to.

It would be better to believe that he couldn't, rather than cling to the hope that he could.

Sherlock didn't look forward to facing Moriarty again. But this time, there would be no games, and John would be at his side no matter what. He would involve Mycroft, and they would take care of the consulting criminal once and for all.

First and foremost, they had to get home. He had to concentrate on that. He couldn't pounder what Moriarty might have done in the years he'd been alive since Sherlock's disappearance, what he was still doing, sitting in his web, pulling the strings from the shadows like he had done before he had ever learned of his existence.

John cleared his throat.

"Trevelyan. Right". He was obviously annoyed at not being told everything – he probably found the idea of a dangerous criminal fascinating, like Sherlock had at the first mention of his name.

"Yes. Anything on the residue yet?" the doctor answered, and Sherlock realized he had been lost in his memories.

The other man shook his head.

"While Mrs. Hudson was here, and then when you were talking, I was able to confirm that it was organic matter – but not much else. It could be from a plant, but..." He trailed off. He didn't need to tell them that there were many plants in London.

"All we can do is wait".

It was John who stated the obvious, his John, and Sherlock wasn't tempted to roll his eyes for once. He was right. They could only wait, hope for a clue. They had no idea where Trevelyan was, who he was in contact with, if anyone, and what he was planning to do, aside from bringing Moriarty back – and that was assuming he had indeed brought him back. Maybe he had done something else, maybe he had no control over the change, maybe nothing had changed at all.

They couldn't know and Sherlock hated not knowing.

"I better be off" Jim announced, "I have to get back to work. Not everyone gets a day off because their friend needs help – " He shot Bill a sly look, which he only answered with a sigh.

"I told them I had a family emergency, so what."

"You shouldn't – " Mike began, but stopped when he felt all their eyes on him. He grumbled something under his breath, but didn't attempt to finish his sentence.

After Jim had gone, with a promise to try and find if Trevelyan had been in this world before and been in contact with anyone, Bill once more tried to reason with him.

"Mike, you have your work. Go. We're staying here anyway. We don't know where Trevelyan is."

"And you promise that you'll call? Whatever happens?"

"Yes, brother. I will call."

Mike finally agreed that at present he couldn't help them, hugged his brother and bid the others a polite goodbye before leaving.

Sherlock couldn't deny that he understood why John relaxed when Mycroft closed the door behind him.

He was feeling the same way about Jim. The IT tech had been nothing but helpful and polite, and yet – especially now, that they suspected Moriarty was alive –

It didn't make any sense. Sherlock's opinion on the man changed, depending on whether he saw him, whether he was thinking logically or not because he was stressed –

Sentiment. It would never fail to amaze him.

He caught John's gaze and told himself that soon, everything would be over.

But for now they had to wait.