Consulting Fangirl

Chapter 19: Mai

A/N Sorry my update timing is screwed up, I've been having trouble writing lately. Stress of upcoming exams. I'll do my best for you guys. 

Over the next weeks, I forgot about my encounter with James Moriarty. Of course it never really disappeared, just lingered in the corner of my thoughts, a shadow creeping behind the illusion of my day-to-day life. I wanted to forget, but it still whispered to me like a cold wind on the back of my neck.

James Moriarty is dead.

He died on the rooftop. I remembered reading that in the papers, the rush of relief that had filled my heart seeming to be the only benefit from Sherlock’s suicide. He shot himself in the head. No human being could come back from that. There was only one solution.

James Moriarty is a Time Lord.

No, of course he isn’t. There is only one true solution to this, one that isn’t some poorly written Doctor Who fan fiction (A/N Not insulting anyone’s fic, this is just Mai’s opinion).

James Moriarty faked his death. If this was true, everything I had been forcing John to believe for the past two years is a lie. If this was true, someone else could have easily faked their deaths, especially someone as brilliant as Sherlock Holmes.

He could still be alive. Sherlock Holmes could be alive. Of course this thought wasn’t going to leave my mind.

I managed to find a way to shove it into the back of my thoughts, however. It wasn’t worth thinking about. If I pursued this, Moriarty would know, I had no doubt. If he thought even for a second that I was looking into this again he would have John killed. That was a risk I couldn’t take, not even for Sherlock Holmes.

Of course this also meant that I could not tell John what I knew. I hated it. I hated lying to him, especially about this. Sherlock was, is, his best friend. I knew how much this meant to him, but I couldn’t give him the one piece of information he needed to know so desperately: his best friend is alive.

It was a cruel and twisted joke that James Moriarty was playing on me, a trick I wanted no part of. He was making me choose between being loyal to my husband and saving his life. There was only one choice but both options meant losing him if he discovered what I was hiding.

On my way home from work about two weeks after the encounter, I stopped by at Dan’s house. I needed to talk to someone. John obviously wasn’t an option and Katie wouldn’t understand. Dan seemed like my best bet on the matter.

“Mai! It’s been weeks since I saw you. John’s kept you cooped up in your little love nest over there,” Dan teased, pinching my cheek jokingly. I swatted his hand away, but my smile was halfhearted at best.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. Dan knew me better than anyone. He could tell when something was bothering me with nothing more than a glance.

“I need to talk to you.” I said. He nodded solemnly and invited me inside.

When we were seated on the couch, he crossed his arms and looked at me expectantly. I took that as a sign to begin.

“Okay, is it wrong to lie to someone if you’re trying to protect them?” I asked. Dan pondered this for a moment. I could see by the creases in his forehead he was thinking hard on this.

"Depends on the severity of the situation. Mai, why are you asking me this?” I knew that I had to lie to him. He wasn’t someone I was willing to risk being put in danger. So I shaped my face into my most convincing calm, shy smile. It was one I reserved specifically for him, one that even he could not see through.

"I’m writing a character for my newest book. In the story, she has to choose between lying to her husband, which would help him resolve the issues he’s been battling for years, or telling him the truth, which will get him killed. What should she do? I can’t decide what to do with her character.”

He bought it. The gentle smile he sent me was evidence enough. He believed we were talking about fictional characters, not John and I.

“Well, it would seem right to tell him. I mean, this could help him a great deal and end the suffering he’s been forced through for years. On the surface, it seems right.”

I sensed a hidden meaning behind that. “But…?”  I left the word alone, dragging it out.

“But,” he continued, “it’s his life we’re talking about. If you want your character to be brave, she should lie to him. It’s true courage that comes with doing what seems wrong in order to protect another. I know from every book in my store that relates to this situation, lying to him means she loses him, but at least he’s alive.”

It was exactly what I needed to hear. I didn’t let the relief show on my face, though, for he would take that the wrong way. Instead I put on a thinking mask and pretended to consider his words from a writer’s perspective.

“I think you may be right. Thanks Dan.” I said with a smile.

“No problem Mai.”

When I got home, I could look John straight in the eyes confidently for the first time in weeks, confident enough in my decision to feel no guilt. I was saving his life. I was doing the right thing. I was saving his life. I was doing the right thing.

So why did it feel so wrong?