Chapter Twenty-Five

Moriarty threw his apple at the wall, causing a splatter of juicy on the drywall, and a bashed in apple to fall the the floor.

Sherlock and I remained still.  Moriarty casually walked inside, and said hastily, "Oh, I am sorry for doing that."  He picked the apple up, and stuck it in his pocket.

"You know, I am happy to see you, Sherlock Holmes.  And John." he motioned to me.  "How's he doing.  Still healthy?  When'll you put him down?"

Sherlock took a step forward, but didn't do anything.  A distant thought told me that he was probably ready to protect me at any time.

Moriarty stood still glaring at Sherlock, and he started to make a creepy smile.

"Why are you in my flat?" Sherlock asked, a droning voice.

Moriarty scratched his head.  "You know, that's a good question.  I suppose you want to know how, also, don't you?"  He shook his head.  "That's a secret."

Sherlock tapped his foot.  "I'll ask again.  Why are you here?"

"I'm here 'cause I wanna be, Sherlock."  Moriarty chuckled to himself.  "If I leave, I'll only come back.  Or do worse."  He patted his pocket.  "This apple was you, Sherlock, under my thumb.  And if I don't kill you, I'll kill other people... people you hold dear..."

I raised my eyebrows.  I had a burning feeling down inside me because I knew that meant me.  I also knew that Sherlock would try to save me, but after all, he was only human.  You can't win every battle.

Then, I realized something else.  What if Moriarty killed Scottie?

Moriarty took something out of his other pocket.  "Oh yeah, this was at your door."  It was a folded note, dirty and damp.  He dropped it on the floor in front of him.  "Bye, bye."  And Moriarty was gone.

When he was gone, Sherlock stepped forward, bent down, and picked the letter up.   He slowly unfolded it, and read it quickly.  He then crumpled it up and threw it across the room.  Sherlock brushed past me and slammed the bedroom door.

I walked up to the crumpled letter.  I picked it up, wondering what it was.

SHERLOCK:I WANT YOU TO UNDERSTAND THAT ALL I WANT IS TO BE WITH YOU.  I MISS YOU.TELL SCOTTIE THAT HE CAN HAVE ANYTHING HE LIKES FROM ME.  MARKERS, FOR EXAMPLE.SHERRINFORD

I soon understood why Sherlock neglected it so fast.  But how did Sherrinford know Scottie wanted markers?

I came in the bedroom, and Sherlock was lying on his back under the covers.  I got in with him, without question.  He didn't move.

It was late; I turned off the light in the bedside lamp.  We lay in the darkness, silent for the longest time.

After that longest time, I decided to say something.  I didn't know why, but it came out.  My voice sounded odd against all of the silence.

"There's an East Wind coming."

"No, John." Sherlock replied.  "The East Wind is already here."