''Christ, Sherlock, this place is a mess!'' Lestrade exclaimed, standing in the doorway and observing the flat. ''John told me it was bad, but this... this –''
''What do you want, Gavin?''
''Listen, I know you're going through a hard time right now, but it's been two months and you haven't found a single lead on her whereabouts.''
''Your point?'' Sherlock hissed.
The DI sighed. ''Look, I miss her too. She was a good friend of mine and by far the most talented employee I've ever had, but you have to stop this madness, Sherlock. She's dead, mate! Moriarty took her, there's no way she'd survive that lunatic.''
''She's not dead!'' he bellowed. ''She's not dead and I will find her if it's the last thing I do.''
''You can't find her. Not even Mycroft can. You have to accept that and try to move on. I've got plenty of cases waiting for me on my desk, I could use your help with them if you need a distraction.''
''Don't you see this is his doing?'' Sherlock yelled. ''You think it's a bloody coincidence you've got hundreds of murder cases coming in right when she disappears? This is Moriarty's doing! He's trying to distract me, taunt me, and I won't let him!''
Greg sighed and looked at his dishevelled friend with sympathy written clearly on his face. ''I know you miss her, but you need help, Sherlock. Everyone is worried about you, including me. You're losing your mind cooped up in here! You think Moriarty is everywhere, trying to get to you, but he's gone. He's disappeared.''
''He is everywhere! Why can't you see that? He is messing with your head, with everyone's heads!'' The detective's eyes were blown wide and he was breathing heavily as he stared at the DI with a mad look on his face.
Lestrade approached him and gently pushed him into his chair. ''You need rest. I'll make you some tea, how about that? It'll help calm you down and we can just talk for a while, hm? Talk about (Y/N).''
He shook his head. ''No, I have to work. Phone. Where is my phone?''
''You're holding it, mate. Why do you need it?''
''Moriarty. He's been sending me cryptic messages for weeks now. I've tried every possible solution, but I can't decipher them. He's taunting me, Lestrade. He's trying to mess with my head, but I won't let him. I won't let him distract me from finding her. I'll find her.''
''Easy, mate. Calm down. How do you know it's Moriarty texting you and not some lad playing a cruel joke on you?''
''Of course, it's Moriarty!''
''Alright, let's say he is behind these messages. Have you asked Mycroft for help? Maybe he can decipher them.''
''You've been spending an awful lot of time with my brother, Lestrade,'' Sherlock sneered, glaring at him. ''And no, I haven't asked him for help because I don't want his bloody help!''
''Well, what about Molly? Or John? Maybe I could help?''
The detective snorted. ''If I can't figure it out, what makes you think you can? How many of your cases did I have to solve for you?''
''I know you're hurt, but you don't have to lash out at me. I am only trying to help.''
''Help?'' he scoffed. ''None of you are doing anything to help me find (Y/N)! None of you cares!''
''Bloody Hell, Sherlock, of course, we bloody care! She was important to us, as well! And we've tried looking for her. We did the best we could, but it's been two months now. You have to start accepting that she's gone! She won't come back, you know that. This isn't some ordinary criminal, it's Moriarty. You've faced him before, you know what he's capable of.''
''She's not dead! How many times do I have to tell you she's not dead? I know she isn't! Moriarty wouldn't kill her, that'd be too easy. He wants something, I just need to figure out what.''
''What is his motive for doing this? Have you figured that out?'' Greg asked, attempting to be helpful.
Sherlock stayed silent for a while, running over all the theories he had come up with. ''Revenge,'' he muttered. ''He's a psychopath. Psychopaths don't feel emotions as strongly as regular people do. He's not inhibited by guilt or fear, but what he does feel is anger, jealousy, resentment.''
''So... (Y/N) did something that angered him and that's why he took her?'' Lestrade guessed.
''It's not just about her, it involves me as well. He's punishing me...'' Sherlock's eyes glimmered as he sat up straighter in his chair. He was gazing at the wall, the gears in his head turning.
How had he not seen this before? He had been so wrapped up in trying to find you that he hadn't stopped to think why Moriarty would want to take you in the first place.
It was obvious he didn't kidnap you to kill you. If murdering you was his plan, he would've done so at the pool. He wanted something else, something more complicated.
Trying to justify Moriarty's actions by logical thinking would usually be a waste of time. He was insane, he got off on committing crimes and causing harm to the world and the people in it. He enjoyed it.
Though this time, it was different. He had a motive and a plan. This wasn't about insanity or enjoyment, this was about something else. Revenge, it had to be. He was angry, but why?
Sherlock jumped up, marching over to the desk and pulling out files from the drawers. They were your father's documents that you had kept around. It was the first time you had stumbled across the consulting criminal.
The dates of interaction between your father and Moriarty went back years and years. Back to when the consulting criminal couldn't have been older than a teenager. You couldn't have been older than a teenager.
It all made sense now. Everything finally clicked in his mind.
His head was clear. His emotions were no longer ruling the place and for the first time in months, he could think properly and put the puzzle pieces together.
''Oh,'' he muttered. ''Oh!''
''You alright there, mate?'' Greg wondered, his eyebrows knitting together.
''That's it!'' Sherlock swiftly turned around. ''He wants revenge because of me!''
''Mind explaining that? I'm a little lost here.''
''He has been following (Y/N) for years. We both established that a while ago when he mentioned on the phone he had killed Carl Powers for her. (Y/N) was eight when he was murdered, so Moriarty had to have known her since or likely before that.''
''Yes? So? He's a creepy stalker, I thought we knew that.''
''Why would he follow her for so long if he wasn't interested in her? Why would he go out of his way to blackmail her father to get closer to her if he didn't have some sort of motive?''
''You're saying that lunatic fancies her?'' the DI called out indignantly.
''No, no, it's not about love as you refer to it. It's fascination, obsession, admiration. He saw himself in her, an equal. I grew up thinking my brother and I were freaks for the way we were, that's how people treated us. It couldn't have been any different for him, but he saw something in her that sparked his interest. He wanted someone like him and that someone was her.''
''So he's been following her this entire time? Since they were kids? Why not act on his obsession sooner? Why now?''
''He was waiting for the right moment. I don't know what that would've been, but I ruined it. I ruined his plan.''
''How?''
''Because (Y/N) met me. She fell in love with me, started working with me. That wrecked his plan.''
''What plan?''
''Recruiting her, probably. He wanted her to work with him and dominate the criminal world. That's my best theory.''
''But she'd never agree to work with him after she met you and that's why he's angry.''
''Exactly! And now he's punishing her by punishing me. He wants to hurt her because she defied him and to do that, he –'' he trailed off, realisation dawning on him. His face fell.
''What? He'll what?'' Lestrade was buzzing with excitement much like Sherlock was moments ago, but something had clicked and the thrill he was feeling had died down.
''I have to go,'' he mumbled. He grabbed his coat and scarf and dashed out the door, flagging down a cab and jumping in. ''St Bart's.''
~
Molly shut the door behind her and turned off all the lights. She made her way through the darkened lab, stifling a yawn and sighing tiredly.
''I need your help.''
She turned around, her hand on her rapidly beating heart. ''Sherlock, you startled me. What are you doing here?''
''Everyone's right. I'm not okay.''
''Tell me what's wrong.''
He slowly stepped towards her. ''Molly, I think I'm going to die.''
She gulped. ''What do you need?''
He was now face-to-face with her. ''You.''
~
I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. Thank you for reading and for getting this book to 65K already! ♥