You And I Against The World: Part II

Chapter 2: The interrogation

It's been 8 hours since they've locked me up and they still haven't visited me yet. I'm starting to think that they've either forgotten I'm even here, or, they're trying to find a way to squeeze the information out of me. I'm leaning more towards the second option though. What am I meant to do. I have to do research! He's finally back, and I need to find him! Yet here I am! Stuck in a fucking cell, and nobody is letting me out! It's been such a long time since I've felt this powerless. I might as well remember as much as I can about the murders to try and get some idea of where he is.

As I start thinking back to the victims a guard comes up and opens the cell door and calls for me. He then handcuffs me and brings me to an interrogation room. The walls were made out of bricks and a single pane of one-way-glass was in the middle of the right side wall. In the middle of the room was a table with a bar attached onto the top right side of it and a chair was placed on both sides. A single light illumining the room. The guard then proceeded to cuff my right hand to the bar, leaving my left one free. Once he had done that, he left the room and I was alone. Multiple minutes went by. Ten minutes. Then twenty. And then, after 31 minutes and 57 seconds, inspector Lestrade finally entered. He didn't say a word. He just walked in, holding multiple sheets of paperwork in his left hand, pulled the chair out from under the table, and then sat down. He just sat there. He didn't look at me. He just sat, staring at the paperwork in his hand. But after a couple of minutes he finally took a deep breath and looked at me.

"So, whilst you've been in that cell we've been doing as much research as we possibly could. We looked at all the victims, we looked at all the methods used to kill them, we looked at the places they were murdered in and, we looked at the people who reported them... We came up with zero connections between them. None. Nada. Yet somehow. You did. In the space of twenty minutes, you, found something that we couldn't in the space of 8 hours. Would you like to share?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to." I answer simply.

"Then what do you want Sherlock! Because I want to find this bloody murderer and put him where he belongs, prison! And that's what you want too! Otherwise you wouldn't be doing this job! So why, on a case this big, would you not want to bring this criminal to justice? What did you find that made you so fucking dumb!?"

"Dumb!? Is that what you think I'm being right now! Dumb!?"

"Yes! Very much so! You're throwing away any chance we have finding this guy and you're throwing away any chance you have left working here!"

"That's the thing, I don't work here! So your threats, don't, work!"

"But I can send you to prison, and I can bring you to court."

"Why? Because I won't tell you why I cried? I'm sorry I'm not telling you about my personal life!"

"You see! Now we're getting somewhere! It's personal. So what did you find that touched you so deeply? Is the killer someone you know?" He asks me, a visible smirk starting to spread its way across his face. I bet he's happy he's getting to do this. It takes me a second to answer.

"No."

"You hesitated."

"I did not."

"Yes you did."

"And what if I did hesitate?"

"Who is it?"

"I don't know."

"Yes you do."

"I do not."

"I could ask John if you'd prefer." He says, his smile instantly fading. How does he know about my childhood with John? Mycroft wiped any history of us growing up together when he destroyed my history with Jim. The only way he would know is if John or Mycroft told him. But it obviously wasn't Mycroft, he wouldn't risk his position in the government for this case. So John told him. That little basta- "So do you want me to ask John then?"

"Why would you ask John?"

"Because you grew up together, right? Or have I been misinformed?"

"You've been misinformed, I 've only know John for 5 years now."

"Oh really? Cause that's not what John told me! Is it?" He asks turning towards the one-way-glass. Soi it was John... That basta-

"No, he's lying. I've known him since we were 3." John says through the speaker.

"John you basta-"

"John would you mind joining us in the interrogation room?" He asks and a couple seconds later John steps into the room and takes a seat next to Lestrade.

"I'm sorry Sherlock... " He says looking down at the table in shame.

"So Sherlock. I'll ask you one more time. Who is it?" Lestrade asks, his eyes feel like they're piercing right through me. And for the first time in a while I feel genuinely scared.

"I, don't know." I answer sheepishly and a tear falls down my cheek as my eyes start to water.

"Fine then. John. Who is the most important person in the world to Sherlock? Maybe someone he's loved? If that's even possible." He asks John and I immediately know that he knows exactly who it is. It may of been 7 years ago, but he remembers him just as much as I do. The only person in the world that makes me feel. The only person I have and will ever love. Jim-

"Moriarty. His name is James Moriarty."

"John..." I say looking at him dead in the eyes, tears rolling down my face like a waterfall. Not quite what I thought I would be doing today.

"James Moriarty... that rings a bell. Thank you John. Now Sherlock, you have two options now. You either tell me everything you know about Moriarty and walk out of here a free man. Or you tell me nothing, and get sent to prison for being an accomplice to a mass murderer. Which one do you choose? If you don't tell me John will."

"Fine. Fine I'll tell you everything." I say wiping my tears and resting my head in my palms.

"Thank you. So, what is your connection with him and why were you willing to lie to me for him?"

"Um... It- We- 7 years ago. 7 years ago John, Mary, Molly, Jim and I were all at school together. And Jim, made me feel like you do. He made me empathize with people, he made me happy, comfortable and most of all he made me feel normal. He's like me, he's extremely smart and not the best with people and I must admit that he is a complete and utter psychopath. But when we were together we weren't as mean with people and as I said we could empathize and sympathize which is quite a feet for a psychopath and a sociopath! But anyway, we were going out together, but the entirety of the school was homophobic, including the staff. Actually once I got shoved into a locker at, um, at 3 p.m. and I only got out of it the next morning when Jim found me banging on the door seeing as the janitors didn't get me out the previous night. Jim got countless hours of detention from getting into fights with students that were harassing me and beating me up, and one day, he cracked. He went to school with a gun and a bouquet of red spider lilies and shot up the school. He then gave me the bouquet and promised he would come back to me. Now here we are, seven years later, twenty murders with only the common link of a little sticky note asking "Miss me?". But the key part of it all is the names. The first names. If you rearrange the first letter of each name it spells something. "Hi Sherly, did you miss me?"... Jim is the only person that has ever in my entire life called me Sherly."

"Oh, well, thank you for-"

"Mr. Lestrade somebody is here claiming to be the murderer of the twenty victims." A guard says after barging into the room.

"Did you catch his name?" Lestrade asks.

"Yes, his name is James Moriarty."