Four Weeks Later
Sherlock grit his teeth and hissed, "So close..."
He had been chasing Moriarty all across London for nearly a month. At least once a week there had been a homicide, each with a message from Moriarty. Each time Sherlock had come closer to catching the Psychopath's puppet. Each hunt had given him hope that he would finally get Moriarty.
Now, it seemed, he had failed yet again to catch him. The consulting detective tensed and exhaled sharply. John looked at him and sighed, "We'll get him, mate. He can't run forever."
"He's not running. We are playing his game and he is currently winning every round. And for very case solved, the closer we could be to him striking at Adelaide or you,.. or at anyone else close to me."
"Sherlock, so far he hasn't. Have you thought that maybe it is because he can't do anythinf?"
"He didn't have much trouble abducting and nearly killing Adelaide. I don't see how he couldn't strike again, especially when he's been so active."
Lestrade walked up and blew out a breath, "Sorry, mate. I thought we'd nab him this time."
"No, it's not your doing, Gordon. I just can't quite pinpoint him yet," Sherlock replied, "Get Andersen in here. There's still bodies needing forensic analysis. I need to search around the area for clues."
"Alright, Sherlock." The detective nodded to the DI and he set off, the army doctor behind him.
As much as he hated doing so, Sherlock had to text Adelaide to let her know that Moriarty had evaded them yet again. He didn't expect her to respond right away since she was at a conference that day, but when she did it gave him a semblance of peace.
The duo started scouring the back alley for any messages or clues. They hadn't found one message yet but they knew it had to be there. John, meanwhile, kept an eye on his best friend. The brunette had had a handful of fits over the past few weeks, and the blogger did not want to have to handle another one so soon. He'd never been able to rein Sherlock back in after an episode and since Adelaide wasn't there, the odds of getting him to relax weren't promising.
"Here, John."
"Mm- What?"
"There. There's his message," John snapped out of his thoughts and looked at a rickety, busted up moving pallette propped against one of the buildings, "It was dropped from a height of at least twenty meters to have been damaged this much. The nails have been driven in to form message..."
John studied the nailing pattern and finally figured out that for the first time in months, the message was a simple "Miss Me?". The army doctor pursed his lips, "Yeah, that's from him alright."
"Indeed. Now since this moving pallette is the murder weapon used to kill Gary Alden, we must get Lestrade over here."
"It was the murder weapon?"
Sherlock nodded and threw it over, exposing the back. The backside was splintered and bloodied up, matching Gary Alden's wounds, "Also explains the heavy duty staples we found on the body."
A few minutes later the Yard converged on the pallette. John and Lestrade stood around talking about everything that had gone on with this particular case, not noticing that Sherlock had slipped away to keep looking.
Sherlock rounded a corner and entered a dark, narrow alley. As he did he heard feet shuffling and in a second he was sent sprawling on the ground. He rolled and dodged as his assailant went for a reattack, then eventually got him in a restraint. He shoved him against the alley wall, "START TALKING!"
The man grunted and twisted against Sherlock's hold, managing to kick him back enough to wrest free. Sherlock growled and tackled him again, this time taking him all the way down to the grimy stone path.
He yanked off the man's ski mask and froze. This man... I recognize him...
Memories flashed in his mind and he dropped the assailant onto the ground like he had been holding hot coals. The man sneered, "Think you'd extinguished all of us, Holmes!?!"
Sherlock growled and forced him back down, "Who is leading you!? I spent two years wedding you out!!"
"You didn't get all of us though. You thought you got me too but you didn't. Now we're back and this time you can't stop us!"
"I did it once and I'll do it again. I will eliminate your Network from existence."
The man kneed him in the gut and threw him off, "This is for the trouble you put us through!!"
Sherlock managed to dodge the first couple of punches but the third hit him just over his old bullet wound. He grimaced and rolled, managing to kick over the assailant in the process.
Suddenly two hands pulled him up propelled him into the wall. Two on one. Not the best. He pivoted to block the assault and hooked the second attacker in the jaw.
Once John realized Sherlock was gone he immediately went to look for him, gun at the ready. When he found him brawling with two people and not winning, he fired off one warning shot. This got their attention and the attackers fled, dropping Sherlock on the ground. John fired a few more shots and hit both men but they didn't stop, ducking out of sight in seconds.
Sherlock slowly stood up, having to brace against the wall, "I knew you'd get here eventually..."
"Sherlock, are you-"
"I'm fine, John," He ground out despite the pain he was in. Someone resurrected Moriarty's Network that I faked my death for two years to destroy. The network operatives whom I didn't take out are motivated by revenge as much as money.
"I need to get back to Baker Street."
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