Playing Games With The Devil - A Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter ten: Postcard From Verona

The next day I am released from the hospital. I still feel horrible but not in a physical way. I keep thinking about Moriarty's message. Why would he care about my past with Sebastian? Arranging the murder of 52 innocent people seems too far even for him, especially over something so trivial.

If there's one thing Moriarty is good at its mind games. But I desperately don't want to play them anymore. It's hardly been a month and yet he's already turned my whole life upside down. I'm very thankful I lied to Sebastian when he forced me to tell him why I killed Kyle. That information in the hands of Moriarty would be absolutely disastrous. Luckily for me no one else knows the truth either; I made sure of it.

***

Sherlock told me, or rather ordered me to stay put in my flat. He said it would be safer if I didn't go wondering the streets. When I brought up the fact that if Moriarty wanted to get to me it would be no problem at all, he scoffed and walked out muttering something about annoying under his breath.

So now I'm pacing back in forth trying to keep my mind off Moriarty. I keep thinking about the night he showed up here. He told me he no longer had any use for me; I was both relieved and disappointed. I was relieved because I thought maybe that was the end, that Moriarty would find some other unfortunate soul to add to his little game. But on the other hand, I hated my life before he became apart of it. It was one continuous bore. Yes, Moriarty is sick and twisted but at least he keeps things interesting.

I just spent two weeks cooped up in this place and I really think I'll lose my mind if I have to spend another day.

I stop pacing when I hear someone banging on the door. Sherlock has probably discovered something new. I make my way over to the door and open it. I'm met not by Sherlock but by Sebastian. My jaw slightly drops when I see him. He looks worse than me. Sebastian's lip has clearly been busted open. His left eye is nearly swollen shut and is an ugly colour of a mix between blue and black. Small cuts cover the rest of his face and his breathing suggests at least a few fractured ribs.

"What in the hell happened to you?" I ask stifling a laugh. Sebastian glares at me sending me a look that makes me believe he is thinking of all the ways he could murder me right now. "I came to deliver a message from Moriarty." He says ignoring my question. Sebastian reaches into his back pocket and pulls out an envelope then hands it over to me. Inside it is a postcard from Verona.

"I don't understand." I tell him inspecting the card. "What message? There's nothing written on it." I add.

"It's not my place to tell you." He says and turns to leave. "Wait," I call after him. "Did Moriarty do that to you?" I ask remember the text I got in the hospital. "Of course not." Sebastian replies. "Right, he doesn't like to get his hands dirty. Did he arrange for someone to beat you up?"

Sebastian's silence is all the answer I need. I close the door allowing him to leave this time. I'm holding the postcard tightly in my hand. I'm trying to make sense of all this, to figure out what Moriarty is thinking. The murders, having Sebastian beaten up; there has to be a reason he's doing this.

Moriarty must know that I wouldn't be affected by seeing Sebastian hurt so he must actually be angry that he didn't know about our history together. So that leaves the question I've been pondering on all morning; why?

When it comes to Moriarty I don't think I'll ever really know his true motives. He loves being in control way too much to ever let someone figure out the "why" of his plans unless he divulges it himself.

I am snapped out of my thoughts by the text alert on my phone.

Come to Baker Street, now. -SH

Not even a second after I read his text does he send another.

Hurry, it's an emergency! -SH

And then another.

I need HELP! -SH

I quickly grab my coat and rush out. From where I live now it's quicker to walk to Sherlocks' than to take a cab. I mumble apologies as I bump into people manoeuvring my way through the crowds. I make it to Sherlocks' flat and head up the stairs. I walk in to find him laying on the couch with his hands pressed together under his chin. "What's the emergency?" I ask looking around.

"I'm out of tea, and coffee, and come to think of it there isn't any food left either." Sherlock says while continuing to stare straight in front of him.

"And just what do you want me to do about it?" I ask in a harsh voice. I can't believe he made me rush over here thinking something was seriously wrong.

"John used to do all the shopping, but obviously he doesn't live here anymore and now he's preoccupied with the baby so I can't ask him. Mrs.Hudson isn't home, I haven't the faintest idea where she is. So that leaves you. You don't mind do you?"

I glare at him incredulously. "You're joking, right? I mean you can't honestly be serious. You want me to get your shopping?"

"Yes. My card is in my pocket." Sherlock says motioning to his pants.

I burst out laughing and he gives me a weird look. "Oh my god, you're really being serious aren't you? Why can't you go get it yourself?"

"I'm far too busy." He replied. "You're laying on the couch doing nothing." I point out. "I'm thinking. It's very important." Sherlock tells me closing his eyes.

I walk over to him and jerk him off the couch. "What the hell was that for?" He yells. "I am not doing your shopping. I'll go with you, but I'm not doing it for you." I say sternly. "Honestly, you're a grown man. This is ridiculous." I add and grab his coat throwing it at him.

I start to leave but when I look back Sherlock still hasn't moved an inch. "Oh, come on. Maybe will happen upon a murder on our way to the store." I tell Sherlock, this gets his attention. "Fine. I suppose I can spare a moment." He says but I can see he's holding back a smile.

***

Sherlock and I returned to Baker Street two hours later with the shopping. I'll have to admit Sherlock isn't the worst company in the world. Although he could be slightly embarrassing at times. For example, when he sent a lady off crying after he deduced her husband was cheating on her. He really has no idea how to behave properly in public.

"Well I should probably get home now." I say once we've carried all the bags in. "Come back here tomorrow around noon. I'm going to Scotland Yard and I want you to go with me." Sherlock states.

"What...why?" I ask not wanting to see Lestrade, who I am sure will be there.

"There's something you need to see. It's important, I promise." He says noticing the look on my face. "Okay, I'll go." I tell him even though I really don't want to. And with that said I make my way out of his flat.

When I get back to my place Moriarty is standing at the door. "Did you have fun with Sherlock?" He asks. "Why are you here?" I reply ignoring his comment. "I just wanted to pay you visit. Thought maybe we could finish what you started the last time I was here." I do my best to give him a disgusted look.

"That's not gonna happen. But you could tell my why you had all of those people killed. Or why you had Sebastian beaten up. I'm very curious." I say, although I already know he's not going to tell me the truth.

"Did you not get my text? I dislike not knowing things. You and Moran both failed to mention your past together. He actually went to great links trying to hide it from me. So, I had to teach you the two of you a lesson."

"That makes no sense. Why do you even care?" I ask, my frustration with him building.

"Sherlock is starting to become boring. But with you in picture, everything changes. I've told you before Brooklyn, I want you. And when I want something, I want it all to myself." He says with a grin before walking away.

"I got your postcard!" I yell after him just now remembering. Moriarty stops for only a brief moment to say back,"You're going to love Italy."