Chapter 11

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You were still half asleep when you heard shuffling that stirred you awake, you turned over taking a deep breath and opening your eyes. Oh, that's right. I'm here in a maniac's house. You glanced down looking at a blanket that wasn't there before, and in a chair across from the end of the couch was Sebastian; content with a mug and a newspaper in hand. Who even reads the paper anymore?

"Was this," you gestured to the blanket, "you?" 

Sebastian didn't look nor falter as he brought the mug up to take a sip. 

"Technically." 

"Technically?" you questioned. 

He took another sip. "James asked me to, so I did."

You brought your knees up to your chest, crossing your arms around them. You looked around.

"And is he..." you trailed off. 

"No, he's not here."

You hummed a 'mm' and sat there observing Sebastian. He seemed a lot calmer in the mornings, more unbothered. He had a shallow scar on his chin and by his eyebrow, dark bags under his eyes that made him look tired but his face looked overall content. I wonder if he slept here too.

"He said that I was lucky he had a mild interest in me, or I'd be dead."

He pushed a 'hmph' sound out of his chest, "Mild is understating it," he looked at you for the first time since you started talking, "he could kill you, mind yourself." 

Every time you felt grounded another reality check hit you. Moriarty could very well kill you, or order you killed more likely, at anytime. The thought unnerved you to say the least. He looked back down at the paper, flipping a page.

"I doubt he will anytime soon, though." he sighed.

"And what makes you say that?"

"He told me you got some information regarding him and that you're close to Sherlock and Mycroft. Not to mention the huge trouble it would be dealing with Mycroft and the competition if you were murdered."

He glances over to you, the worry must've been written all over your face and a softer side of him started to reveal itself.

"You're interesting, to him. Just don't do anything overly stupid and everything will be fine."

You wanted to ask everything and nothing all at once. Your mind was racing and it felt like you only had this moment to get the answers you wanted, but you didn't want to blow the one open line of communication you had to Moriarty.

"Am I really supposed to be staying here then?"

Sebastian's phone started to ring from his pocket, he pulled it out and with answered it with no greeting. He sat there listening, his eyes occasionally darting to you. He hung up with a 'mm' and pulled himself out of the armchair. 

"Stay,"  he said and jabbed his finger at you. You followed him with your eyes as he walked towards the door, stopping only for a moment as he grabs the doorknob, "I mean it."

He slammed the door as he left.

Fuck. This.

You waited a moment, and then ripped the blanket off of your body. You were angry, livid even, body pulsing with an energetic rage that you hadn't felt in a long time. You almost tore the door off the hinges as you strode through it, slamming it behind you as Sebastian once did. 

You started to walk down the path that dragged you here the very first time, after a while you saw the suburbs of the city and flagged down a cab. You knew immediately where you would be going, 

"Cambridge University."

The cabby nodded, and after a few hours of sitting and stewing in your own emotions you had arrived. You stared at the large castle like structure of the school, the school that initially brought you from America all the way across the pond. You felt a surge of nostalgia wash over you, but it didn't last long as you strode through the entrance. 

There were students flowing every direction, the younger ones scrambling to navigate the labyrinth and get to class on time. You headed straight for the directory office and walked up to the receptionist sitting the calm silence.

"Excuse me," she lifted her head up to look at you "I used to be a student here, and I'm trying to find an old professor I had in order to reach out and thank them, are you able to look them up for me?"

She folded her hands in her lap and looked you up and down, "I can't give you their personal contact information-"

You waved your hands in defiance, "No, no! Just an email or even a room if they're still here would be fine!"

With a sigh she asked, "Name?"

You swallowed thickly and for just a second you felt a small twinge of resistance, fleeting however.

"Moriarty is the last name."

She clicked and typed and hummed and 'huh'd' and after a moment she met you with a confused look.

"There's no Professor Moriarty here or has been it looks like,"

Your face dropped.

"there is however, a researcher here with the last name Moriarty, he's in the engineering department- is that who you're looking for?"

"Yes, could you give me directions over there?"

You smiled to yourself, this was better than anything you originally thought, if it is what you think it is. She pulled out some paper and drew you some directions, her words sounded like white noise as your heart raced. You all but snatched up the paper and ran out of the office, immediately heading towards the opposite end of the school. Before you knew it, you were standing outside a closed door, chest tight with your hand hovering. You opened the door, and met with a little shorter than average man, dark hair messy hair, and brown eyes. He meekly smiled at you.

"Andrew Moriarty?"

He nodded, "That's me, would you like to come in?"

You smiled and walked into the room. There was no fear in your body, and you felt absolutely invigorated.  


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