A/N: this is about one year post-fall. I know John has to wait three years, but I wanted to do this.
Also, I know that Moriarty doesn't come back, but I prefer it this way. Moriarty is cool.
And yes, this is completely a spin-off of the Great Game, but I really loved the story.
Artistic liberty. :p
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
blog.co.uk
Dr. John H. Watson
Username: JHWatson
Password- ••••••••
New Post
Well, John, I hope you're reading this. First of all, your password is far too easy to guess.
More importantly, I'm alive. I miss you more than words can say. I hope for my sake that you still check your blog. Soon, hopefully, you'll have new cases to write about. I'll be at 221B until 3:00 pm tomorrow. I'll be waiting. -SH
********
blog.co.uk
Dr. John H. Watson
Username: JHWatson
Password: ••••••••
New Post
Your password is entirely too easy to guess, John. But then again, everything's easy for me. I miss you more than words can say. Isn't that just adorable?
But then, you ordinary people always are. You may be together again soon, but I'll be back too. The side of the angels and the side of the demons are always connected. -M
*******
John checked his laptop. No new emails, no new Facebook notifications, nothing. Ah, but here- 1 like on his new blog post by iamKing. Who was that? No matter, John had thousands of fans from all over the world, but considerably less this year. No, that wasn't it, but there was something funny about this. What?
Oh. Oh. He hadn't posted anything for a year- just a confirmation of... the thing that happened.
So what was this bloke- or he supposed it could be a girl- liking?
John logged into his blog and saw two posts from yesterday. He hadn't posted anything in a year, and definitely not yesterday. He clicked on the first one and read it with growing excitement. He looked at his watch. 2:30. "Mary? I-I'll just be popping out for-for uh, milk, yeah?"
"What, dear?" But John was already gone.
In the cab, he thought he should probably read the second post. So he opened his blog on his phone. Oh dear. His heart sank, but then he remembered- if the first post was true, Moriarty wouldn't be a problem.
2:58
John scrambled out of the cab and sprinted to 221B. He pounded on the door before realizing he still had the key. He fumbled with it for a moment before hurriedly unlocking the door. John ran, ran, ran up the stairs. "SHERLOCK? SHERLOCK!" He heard footsteps upstairs. He burst through the door to see...
What?
Sherlock was holding a gun to his own head and looking at his watch. "Goodbye for re-"
"Sherlock." John panted. "I'm here."
Sherlock looked up. Dropped the gun. Blinked hard. He sat down on the floor. "I'm dreaming."
"No, I-I'm here."
"But Moriarty said-"
Moriarty stepped out from around the corner and smiled apologetically. "Sorry to ruin the fun, boys, and your tearful reunion, but... to properly destroy your lives, I decided to reverse your roles. Remember this, John? Sherlock? Be a dear, and show him what I mean."
Sherlock lifted his arms to show that this time he was strapped to explosives.
"Oh. My. God." John muttered.
Moriarty giggled, an awful, high-pitched sound. "And this time..." The telltale red laser of a sniper's sight drew on Sherlock's body. "There's no getting out of it!" He laughed maniacally, a truly insane scream of giggles.
Since Moriarty was focused on John, Sherlock slowly stood up and did what John had done three years ago: he grabbed Moriarty. This time, however, it seemed that Moriarty had only brought one sniper- John had no scarlet lasers dancing over him.
However, the little red light on Sherlock (and now Moriarty)- the difference between life and death- hovered, flickering uncertainly, on Moriarty's chest. The sniper didn't know what to do.
Moriarty screamed. It was an evil, malicious keening, full of frustration. "Don't shoot!" he said at last.
John called Lestrade. "Come to 221B Baker Street straightaway."
"What? Why? I thought you didn't live there anymore."
"Well..." John mulled it over, looking at Sherlock. "I think I'm moving back in."
