Tearing at the Seams

As soon as Sherlock is exiled, his brother calls him back for a new case: Moriarty. After what happened the first time, Sherlock doesn't want John anywhere near this case, but John is too stubborn to listen. How will he cope when things take a turn for the worse? Can he ever forgive himself?


1. Chapter 1

Sherlock smiled to himself. Only four minutes in exile and already his brother needed his help. However, he was not prepared for what he heard. "Did you miss me?" Moriarty's voice repeated through Sherlock's phone until Mycroft cut off the recording. "So..."

"He broke his promise. I'll give him a call" Sherlock stated, hanging up before his brother could say anything else. The plane jolted to a stop as Sherlock called Moriarty. "Would you care to explain?"

"I'm sorry, James is unavailable right now, but I can take a message."

Sherlock pursed his lips and let out a breath, "Tell him that we have some unfinished business."

"He was going to tell you the same thing." Sebastian's tight smile could be heard through the phone.

Sherlock hung up his phone and stepped out of the plane just in time to watch John and Mary drive off. Mary. She was amazing, and was perfect for John. Even though that wasn't her real identity, John forgave her. After all, she was carrying his daughter. Sherlock genuinely admired Mary and was happy for her and John.

However, he couldn't help feeling a pang of regret. Two years, and John had moved on. He had fallen in love with Mary, willing to put aside anything for her. If only Sherlock had come back sooner, though. Maybe then, Sherlock could have admitted his feelings for John.
No. Sherlock shook his head. After all of these years, Mycroft was finally right about something: Love is a weakness. But how many times has that love saved John? Saved Sherlock? Too many to count.

Sherlock walked over to his brothers car just as his phone vibrated in his coat pocket, "Hello, John."

"Sherlock. Have you turned on the radio? Is that... Is that, James Moriarty?" John stuttered with disbelief.

"Yes, John. He's back. And honestly, I missed him." Sherlock replied to Jame's chant

"Wha-What?" But Sherlock had already slid his phone back in his pocket.

Mycroft approached Sherlock, looking like his pompous self as Sherlock thought. "Brother dear, any word from Moriarty?"

Sherlock sighed, "He's back."

"Yes, well, of course-"

Sherlock ignored his brother, "221B then?" And slammed the door of the car. ************************************************************************
Before the car had come to a complete stop, Sherlock jumped out and rushed up to his flat. He immediately flipped open his computer and collapsed into his seat. While waiting for his email to load, he glanced up at John, only to find and empty space. That's right, Sherlock thought. He's not here. Sherlock had put John's chair in storage the night of his wedding, because who needs a painful reminder of what they've lost? John didn't notice until a few months after anyway. He was too busy on his sex holiday. Sherlock sighed and returned to his emails. Spam. Fan mail. Trash. Oh, exactly what Sherlock was looking for:



From: Unknown

Subject: Did You Miss Me?


Well, Sherlock? I bet you did. Did you think I would actually break our promise though? No, I just found a little loophole. Why not come for a chat. You know the place. ;)



Sherlock smirked, of course, St. Barts. So predictable. But this loophole... Sherlock had made it very clear that Moriarty was not to return in any shape or form. A loophole indeed.

"Taxi!" Sherlock flagged down a cab, "St. Barts." Sherlock jumped in and phone rang, and again it was John.

"So, Moriarty's not dead. And... How exactly?"

"A prop gun. He later revealed himself and we made an agreement that he would stay in hiding."

"What, on earth would make Moriarty agree to that?"

"His pressure point: Sebastian Moran."

John was silent for a few seconds, "Then, why is he back?"

"I'm going to find that out now."

"I'll be right there."

"No." Sherlock was very firm, startling the cabbie. "No, John. I don't want you in this. Promise me you will stay out of this."

"Like hell I will." John scoffed and hung up.

The cab pulled up to St. Barts and Sherlock hopped out. "Excuse me, sir?" The cabbie pointed to the price.

"Put it under the name Mycroft Holmes." And he strode into St. Barts. *********************************************************************************
Up on the rooftop, Sherlock found a familiar figure sitting on the edge, and smiled, "Irene."

She turned around and flashed a white smile, "Sherlock. The last time I saw you, you saved my life. When can I ever return the favor?"

"Well, probably soon, assuming that Moriarty, you know, the one you're working for, still wants me dead."

Irene's smile faded. That was obviously not the answer she had hoped for. She shook her head, "I don't know what he has planned just yet... But he said that you revealed yourself too early" She paused, "You still love him, don't you?"

"Of course," Sherlock's voice was loud over the traffic, then it quieted, "I love him."

"You want me to save your life, so that you can be with someone who already has a family. Someone you can't be with."

"We are still friends. And after what happened the first time he thought I was dead... I will be there for him, even if it's never more than just friends." Sherlock shook his head and returned to their previous conversation, "That's one hell of a loophole. I can't believe him. I just want him dead."

Irene nodded, "But if he were, everyone he has 'redeemed' would be on the street. People would get hurt."

Sherlock sighed just as the roof's door flung open. He turned around and his eyes widened. "John! What are you doing here?"

"I told you to stay out of this."
"It's too dangerous. And if you get hurt, I'll never forgive myself."
"SHERLOCK!" John shouted, exasperated. Sherlock started to tell John to leave, but John interrupted him, "Mary just went into labor."


Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...