Chapter Text
“Did you miss me?”
The message flooded television screens everywhere. A blissful country turned to panic as the dreaded question was repeated over and over again, never stopping; Never ending.
“Did you miss me?”
Mycroft’s skin crawled as he heard Moriarty’s voice coming from the screen. He looked out his car window to see his brother’s plane coming in for a landing and Mary and John walking briskly toward the tarmac, their coats flapping in the wind. He breathed a sigh of relief for his brother, which was short lived as his eyes returned to the screen in front of him. Moriarty was back. The message abruptly switched off as soon as the landing gear made contact with the pavement, and Mycroft leaned back in his seat, stunned.
Sherlock stepped out of the plane slowly, tentatively, and looked down. The man he thought he'd never see again just five minutes ago stood before him at the foot of the steps, Mary a little ways off. He gazed at John for a moment; beautiful John. His short blonde hair was wisping in the wind, the rays from the distant sunset dancing over the tips of each strand, almost making a halo. His eyes were hopeful, expecting, and his hands were balling in and out of fists as he waited for his friend to descend the steps.
Sherlock made his way down each step carefully, locking eyes with his best friend, resisting the urge to run. It really was tempting. He would say his heart was beating, but that wouldn't be accurate; his heart was quaking in his chest. It was a sensation he had never felt before, and he hoped he'd never feel it again.
When he finally reached the bottom, he barely had time to blink before a pair of arms were around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. It was desperate and clinging, and he could feel John's small hands clutching the back of his coat. He returned the hug cautiously and heard John's hoarse whisper in his ear.
"Don't you ever pull anything like that again, Sherlock, do you understand?" He breathed. Sherlock nodded and John tightened his grasp. A wave of electricity ran down Sherlock's spine as he remembered that only five minutes ago, he was to be torn apart from this man forever. He wished the hug could last forever, that he could never let go. Because he wouldn't. Not if he had the choice.
They pulled away reluctantly, and Sherlock could see tears in the doctor's eyes as he unconsciously wiped his own away. Sherlock gave a small smile, and John beamed back at him before they both turned and walked back toward the car.
"William. Your first name is William." John said as they walked, giving a bit of a smile that was immediately returned by the detective.
"Not as bad as Hamish" Sherlock replied, and soon they were both giggling. They were halfway back to Mycroft's car when Sherlock asked,
"So, who needs me now?"
"Moriarty," answered John, taking a deep breath and dipping his chin before continuing, "He's back"
Sherlock looked over in surprise, but before he could say anything, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket, finding a video message. The detective raised his eyebrows and motioned for John to stop, and, holding the phone where both could see the screen, he pressed play.
Sherlock swallowed hard when Moriarty’s face appeared on his phone. His black eyes glistened, and with a smile that resembled a hyena's and a giggle that could've belonged to a schoolgirl, Moriarty began the message.
“Did you miss me? I thought you would. It’s okay now, Sherlock. I’m back, and we’re going to have such fun together now. Just like old times, yeah?”
He gave a wink and made a kissy face at the camera before waving goodbye. Then the screen was black.
Sherlock looked over at John, whose were eyes a bit wider than usual and whose mouth was slightly agape. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Mycroft and Mary were watching them with questioning looks, and he gave a curt nod to his friend. John swallowed, nodding back, and Sherlock could see by the stone in his face and the gleam in his eye that it was just the two of them against the world.
The game was on.