Nicotine (Sheriarty)

31

Moriarty

Jim Moriarty woke up in a hospital bed. He had had stitches on his head but he couldn't remember what for. He couldn't remember anything.

"Hello Jim." A lady said whilst walking confidently towards Jim's bed. She was holding a professional looking notepad and pen.

"Um... Hi." The man replied.

"I'm Sally. I'll be your therapist."

"I don't understand. Why do I need a therapist?"

"Because you've lost your memory and it my job to help you piece your life back together."

Jim didn't like the way she was speaking to him. He didn't like the fact that she seemed bored of him. He didn't like the fact that her makeup was uneven. He didn't like her.

"Right. I've got to get off to a meeting in a few minutes." The woman checked her watch, "So, can you remember anything? Anything at all?"

Jim thought for a moment, "Well... I've been having these dreams." he ran his hands down his face, "and... There's this man. This man... This reoccurring man. Um... In my dreams I call him... Sher... Something like Sherlock. I don't even know if that means anything. He's probably just made up."

The woman, Sally, was writing down notes as Jim explained his dream.

"I'll try to get in contact with your family. You just relax. I'll be back as soon as possible." The therapist said as if she was desperate to get out of the room. Or maybe she was desperate to call someone. Jim couldn't tell.

Once Sally had left, Jim led back in his hospital bed and fell asleep.

~

Sherlock

-2 weeks later-

Sherlock Holmes sat in 221B staring at the very shootable wall. John had taken away his gun after he nearly destroyed the flat worrying about Jim.

He heard his phone ring and leapt up to get it.

"Hello?"

"Ah, brother dear. Good news, we've found your 'boyfriend'"

"Husband."

"Husband..."

"Where is he?"

"He's just got out of hospital."

"Hospital?!"

"It would seem that your precious goldfish has got himself into a bit of a sticky situation."

"What do you mean?"

"He's lost his memory."

"Oh."

"But good news, I've signed you up for his classes."

"Lecture classes?"

"Yes. We hope it will help him get his memory back."

"So what you're saying is I've got to go along to his lectures as a pupil and hope he recognises me?"

"Good luck, Sherlock."

"Mycroft..."

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

~

Moriarty

Jim stood in front of his class, organising his notes. He watched as the pupils walked in but only one caught his attention.