3 years Later: Moments

This fic is dedicated to a fellow fanartist I used her picture as the cover page for. I was requested by her not to reveal her identity.

Song is called "Moments." Ayumi Hamasaki sang this song. I have no ownership of the lyrics of the song used to convey the fic to best of possibility. 

Read away folks. I hope this fic makes her happy and those reading it as well. 

 

kokoro ga kogatsuite, yakeru nioi ga shita (Your heart began to be scorched, and there was a smell of it)
sore wa yume no owari, subete no hajimari datta (It was the end of your dream, and the start of everything)

Sherlock's heart beats rapidly, aware of the same mistake Irene also had done. Letting his heart rule his head. Moriarty took this opportunity to shoot himself. Now, who will listen to Sherlock aside from those who care about him? Not that they ever did after Moriarty made people lose faith in the detective, hide under a fake name, and had the help of willing participants to ruin Sherlock's reputation. With Moriarty now dead, Sherlock can't prove Moriarty was indeed a real person. I lost... Sherlock thought. He recalled Moriarty one time saying, "I will burn the heart out of you."

He remembered that very well and each time it repeated, he felt his heart burning little by little. He also remembered what Moriarty mentioned about those he cares for being in danger. Two gun men, one sniper. The three targets being Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, and Doctor John Watson. The heart beats grow louder and the burning feeling rises. Sherlock places his hand over where the heart is. He moves up to the edge of the platform and takes a deep breath.

akogareteta mono wa utsukushiku omoete (What you adored looked beautiful to you)
te ga todokanai kara kagayaki o mashita no darou (It became even brighter because you couldn't reach it)

Sherlock takes a moment to look up in the sky, as if those he cared for were watching him from above withing the bright lights. He didn't bother to reach it as he already knew they were still alive. He remembered the time when he first asked Mrs. Hudson for an apartment room to reside in. He was never payed for being a consulting detective and he did it because he loved it. Other workers had always called him crazy except for Lestrade, unless Sherlock was acting stupid like the time he didn't know Greg was Lestrade's first name. But, those didn't happen very often and everyone knew Sherlock wasn't much of a social person aside from talking while going to solve a detective case. It wasn't Sherlock's fault. Well, partially it was since he did have a tendency to show off. But, it's not under Sherlock's control to stop people from getting pissed off at him or even call him a freak.

kimi no kudake chitta yume no hahen ga boku no mune o sashite (The broken pieces of your dream, pierce my heart)
wasurete wa ikenai itami toshite kizamareteku (Leaving the pain, that I should never forget)

But, he was no different than anyone else. Like any human being, he had ambitions. From childish ones like being a pirate to doing a job he himself invented. He always, one could say, enjoyed looking at substances through microscopes, observing corpses for injuries and searching for suspicious items that indicated clues, and deducting in order to get the story of what happened. People always called him a showoff or a freak cause of his deduction skills. People only found personality flaws but never flaws in other areas, like being unable to read people's hearts. If he could, he would've went with Molly for some coffee or say no instead of, "Black. Two sugars." With Irene, it was merely read through her pulse instead of the expression on her face. Even his older brother, Mycroft, always thought Sherlock was either going to be a philosopher or a scientist. He never once dreamt of his younger brother to invent a non-paid job of being a consulting detective. It made no sense to Mycroft, let alone the fact Sherlock is willing to do the job for free. He often questioned how much passion Sherlock had for even wanting a job with no pay regardless of how much use he was to those in the department. Mrs. Hudson coined the fact that no one could everknow what went inside Sherlocks mind, and possibly, his heart.

The heart beats started to hurt as if sharp objects are piercing it. Sherlock already knew he lost everything he known and had. Moriarty already burned the heart out of him. But, it was never really Moriarty. Oh, no no no. He just added fuel to the fire. Mycroft telling Moriarty all about the consulting detective-like Moriarty himself- was also a factor that merely added fuel to the fire. Sherlock never knew his sociopathy was going to be his downfall. Just, what would have happened if he went with John to see if Mrs. Hudson was okay? Would they have been safe? Possibly not. Moriarty would've still texted Sherlock and Sherlock would still go alone and meet up with Moriarty. And if John goes/follows him regardless? Not possible. John could've been a hostage and the two comrades would be forced to be apart, the result of Sherlock going alone to meet up with Moriarty. After having people like Mrs. Hudson getting hit before and having Irene, John, and himself at gun point, Sherlock knew he would never put others involved. He would do anything to push them aside so they won't get hurt. What would've happened if the journalist that sided with "Richard Brooks" never did? Obviously, he wouldn't have been accused of hiring "Richard Brooks" to "act" as Moriarty and make it as if he faked solving those cases. It wouldn't stop the doubts entirely though like Moriarty mentioned when using the allusion of the Knights of the round table. But, it would've prevented Lestrade from doubting Sherlock even though he was the last in the department to have doubted Sherlock and it would've prevented Sherlock from becoming a fugitive from the police and dragging John with him that night.

hana no you ni hakanai no nara kimi no moto de sakihokoru deshou (If my life is transient like a flower, I'll be in full bloom by your side)
soshite egao mitodoketa ato sotto hitori chitteyuku deshou (And after watching your smile, I'll fall alone quietly)

Sherlock knew besides a poor attempt to convince John in order to protect the doctor, he has no one on his side and no one to side with. He already deducted the Mycroft told Moriarty hence he found it useless to side with his brother. One option gone. What about Mrs. Hudson? She's a old woman and landord of the flat. Why bring an innocent civilian like herself into the mess? Irene was a no good either since she already knew what it was like to deceive some one as if she was dead. He remembered one person who would help him no matter what. Molly. Despite Sherlock's romantically absent responses to Molly's questions, despite accusing a red box for Irene's red box to which he apologized sincerely to Molly. Despite all of that, she stood loyal to Sherlock. The best part, despite dating Moriarty three times before, she was never a target for Moriarty's henchmen that held the guns and sniper riffle. She did count to him. After calling John, he smiles, seeing the faces of those he cares for and jumps off the building, prepared to survive but alone.

kimi ga zetsubou to iu, nanofuchi ni tatasare (How was the scenery you saw?)
soko de mita keshiki wa donna mono datta no darou (When you were pushed into an abyss of despair)

A R.I.P stone was present in the cemetary. That time, only Mrs. Hudson and John appeared. "I'm angry."

"It's okay, John. There's nothing unusual in that, that's the way he made everyone feel. All the marks on my table and the noise. Firing guns off at one in the morning."

"Yeah."

"Bloody specimens in my fridge. Imagine! Keeping bodies where there's food. And the fighting! Drove me up the wall with all his carryings on!"

"Yeah, listen. I'm not actually that angry, okay?"

"Okay. I'll leave you alone to... you know."

Mrs. Hudson leaves Watson alone in the cemetary and goes back to the apartment to prepare organizing Sherlock's items and give them to those who want them.

John starts speaking, constantly walking around the stone and often touching it."Um. Hm. You... you told me once that you weren't a hero. Um. There were times that I didn't even think you were human. But let me tell you this, you were the best man and the most human... human being that I have ever known, and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie. And so... there. I was so alone and I owe you so much. Please, there's just one more thing. One more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be... dead. Would you do that, just for me? Just stop it, stop this."

John pauses for a moment and walks out of the cemetary, not knowing Sherlock was present, listening to what went on. He thought as he walked. Even after all of this, he still believed me. Why? Sherlock ponders this question as he walks away, planning what to do while walking alive.

ikibasho o nakushite samayotteru mukidashi no kokoro ga (Your naked heart is wandering, having nowhere to go)
fureru no o osorete surudoi toge harimeguraseru (And is setting sharp thorns around, for fear of being touched)

Sherlock wandered aimlessly, in a disguise Molly and Irene gave to help him go undercover. He has to thank the two lovebirds for helping him pull the disguise for a good three years. The disguise mainly consisted of navy blue skinny jeans, a black Dr. Who shirt with a glow in the dark police box image in the middle, and the cliche fad of black shoes consisted of white laces and some white on the end of the shoe. However the disguise was not complete without the bandana and cap on top to help cover his hair from the front side. Irene was able to fake Sherlock's information despite the pseudo name taking a while to make up.

"I look ridiculous," Sherlock says.

"Good. No one will definitely know it's you, Sherly," Irene says, cracking her fingers after dressing up Sherlock into a disguise for a good hour or two. She would let him dress up by himself but she was too bored and decided to have some fun with the virgin.

"Uh, Irene. You promised not to go overboard with this disguise plan. Was the riding crop really necessary to get him to strip into his boxers so you can measure him and dress him up?"

"Oh come on, Sweety! You have to admit the Dr. Who shirt was perfect for him! He can play science dork like he usually is in this disguise without anyone knowing. And still get a date or two since he's having an unsteady marriage with his work. The bandana and cap on top helps prevent people from figuring him out from his curly hair. And besides, I gave them to you, you bought the clothes. What's the issue? He's still going to be a smartass. Just a scientific one and less of a 'piss off' when around other people."

"Very funny, Adler," Sherlock says in a sarcastic manner, playing Sudoku in his phone.

"No sheet Sherlock."

"Okay. For once I admit I found that remark humerus."

"Ooh! There's our anatomically brainy virgin. Never knew you had a sense of humor, virgin."

"Did you think of a good name for him, Irene?"

"I thought you were, Sweety."

"Not in front of him. please. You said it twice already in front of him."

"I don't count." Sherlock says.

Molly ignores what SHerlock just said and responds to Irene's question. "Okay...I randomly had Copperden for a name."

"Okay. That works. First name?"

"Well, if Sherlock's pseudo name is Angel, they won't expect it to be Sherlock in disguise cause Sherlock never referred to himself being 'angelic'."

"They could by my eye color, which you used as reference when deciding that first na-oh god!"

A riding crop was hit to back of Sherlock's neck. "What did I tell you about doing deductions when in disguise, Sherly?"

Sherlock keeps quiet. Irene moves towards Sherlock's ear and whispers. "I know you heard my question, Virgin. Now answer it"

Sherlock sighs and responds in a monotonous manner with a hint of sarcasm,"It will blow my cover. I know. Happy, mother?"

Irene slaps Sherlock's arm. Sherlock places a hand over the hit arm, eyes in shock. "In character already? That was unexpected, even for myself."

"Good." Irene turns to Molly then back to Sherlock. "Angel Copperden..."

He witnesses what was being broadcasted on the television set. "Moriarty was real the whole time!" "Sherlock was innocent!" shouted the crowd.

He looked at the telivision sets, scoffed, and continued walking, knowing that the Sherlock the audience was yelling about was considered dead. Why am I not surprised? You find the same result three years after I did. I knew common people can't catch up to my intellect but this was way below my usual expectations. Suddenly, he bumps into a figure and both hit the ground. "Lestrade?" Sherlock said, and covered his mouth in shock. Idiot! He thought.

"Hmm? How did you know my name? I don't recall ever meeting you. But, you do sound like somebody I used to know. Who are you really?"

They both got up. "I...guessed. I'm often called Angel by my peers so I'll leave it like that."

"Angel...back to my question. How did you know my name?"

For some reason, his body started to feel warm. He couldn't think straight. What's going on? I feel so tired Wait! I know this sick feeling before! But, why now of all possible times it could occur again? His body took over himself and he was about to hit the ground before Lestrade catches him.

tori no you ni habatakeru nara kimi no moto e tondeyuku deshou (If I could flutter like a bird, I would fly to you)
soshite kizu o otta sono se ni boku no hane o sashidasu deshou (And offer my wing, to your wounded back)

Sherlock gets up and starts to feel pain in his upper body. He touched his chest and notices it is bare minus some bandage wrapped around certain areas from his occupation up until now. His jeans were still on. He turns to the window and stares at the reflection. No bandana, let alone a cap on my head anymore. I suppose Lestrade figured out I was alive. But, why does my body hurt now? "This is the guest bedroom, in case if you are curious."

He turns from the window to witness Greg sitting on a chair next to the bed. "I am aware of that, let alone I have been to your house before, Lestrade."

"Still the same for the past three years, aren't you? Surprised that you had us fooled so easily."

"Have to thank Molly and Irene for the disguise."

"That explains it."

Sherlock places a hand on one side of his head and the other on his chest and whispers, "It's hurting..."

Lestrade goes towards him. "What's hurting?" He places both his hands on Sherlocks shoulders. "Tell me, Sherlock Ho-"

"Don't say that name that I used to have," Sherlock whispers to Lestrade, eyes unknowingly forming tears. "That name is history."

"Wha-"

Sherlock got up and proceeded to move around the guest bedroom, regardless of the repeated body pain and mental pain. "I know Mycroft-that bastard! He gave my identity away for something Moriarty never had which almost costed me my life! I can't use such name anymore and I refuse to ever acknowledge him as my brother! I knew it had to be him from the start eversince I got Moriarty's texts and you all have known very well I have never given my phone number to anyone! After 'helping' me enough, I refused to let him help me for ever doing such. He is only history to me! Same with my name. Don't call me by that name, Lestrade! Unless, you prefer to do so when in private and drop the last name while you're at it."

While Sherlock fell on his knees, still holding on to his chest and the hand that used to be on his forehead, is clenched into a fist on the wall. Lestrade's eyes grew in shock. He recalled the day he yelled at Mycroft the moment he heard such same information Sherlock currently told him. Lestrade, once in a while, often pictured how Sherlock would've felt if he knew. But, looking at Sherlock and hearing the tone and shouting, Lestrade became aware that Sherlock figured it out easily and sealed his emotions throughout the years while in disguise until today. Lestrade notices Sherlock's hand at the wall shaking. Lestrade asked. "Did you ever tell John?"

Sherlock opens his eyes wide and turns to Lestrade. Lestrade continues, "Judging by your eyes and the tears still flowing from it, you haven't told him, let alone spoke to him."

"No..." Sherlock whispers. "Not when I hurt him enough to hate me like I planned to when I called him before the fake death."

"Why would you make him hate you?"

"Because, I didn't want him to keep on to me. For his own safety. I wanted to "die" in a way people won't remember me. I don't want to be remembered for causing all of it to happen as it did. I didn't want people to die because of me or people alive to mourn for me and if having them hate me before I die is the only way they can forget me and move one with no worries about anyone at them with weapons, than I have no problem doing so and am better off alone to protect myself."

"You have to tell him someday!"

"No!" Sherlock shouts after turning to the wall. He turns back to Lestrade. "No...If they ever see me again, it will be worse than the fall."

Lestrade goes to get Sherlock off the ground and back on the bed. He places his hands again on Sherlock's shoulders. "How do you know that?"

"After hurting them for faking my death with Molly's help, they are better off not ever seeing me again, Lestrade. Think about it."

"Sherlock, you can't keep this from them forever. One day, you have to approach them and you know that. Better late than never."

Lestrade pull Sherlock to an embrace, their heads over eachother's shoulders. Tears still flowed in Sherlock's eyes. "I feel pathetic. Crying like this. I never did before, minus the times when I was a child but still...pathetic...I don't know why you a-"

"Idiot. I should be the one calling myself pathetic. I knew you never lied to us. I always knew..."

"I can't blame you. Moriarty turned almost everyone against me. The fact you still believed in me was shocking..."

"If I doubted you as much as they did, we would never have been partners."

"I thought we were partners because we both liked putting on nicotine patches and not smoke," Sherlock said, trying to get out a laugh but still crying.

"That was a joke. A good one. Anyways, who do you want me to call?"

Sherlock gets up on his feet. He unlocks his phone and scrolls down for a contact name and gives the phone to Lestrade. "Victor Trevor?"

"Yes. Though, I felt some guilt for not talking to him for a good three years. Hope he is doing well after we graduated together. He was my first friend there afterall."

"I know."

hana no you ni hakanai no nara kimi no moto de sakihokoru deshou (If my life is transient like a flower, I'll be in full bloom by your side)
soshite egao mitodoketa ato sotto hitori chitteyuku deshou (And after watching your smile, I'll fall alone quietly)

"It's weird, Lestrade. I was never this...open."

"You emotions could be starting to grow and bloom like a flower. But, that's my guess."

"Rather good one at that."

They both exchanged smiles and some laughs about those Lestrade works with. Suddenly Sherlock collapses with Lestrade catching him, but still conscious. "How many hours did you normally sleep when in disguise and working?"

"Three to five. I sleep more on the weekends."

"Come on, Sherlock! You are not in highschool anymore! You need some rest."

"This isn't my first one or anything, Lestrade. You are overeacting."

"Correction. You are undereacting, Sherlock. You are still young. Collapsing with no one to help you and under sleeping will be a detriment to your health. Now, come on. You're off to bed."

Lestrade lifts up Sherlock to place him on the guest bed. "What about Victor?"

"You rest. I will call him in the meantime and explain the situation. And before you ask, I will tell him to keep it between us three."

"Thanks, Lestrade." Sherlock says. He closes his eye and mutters, "I really owe you..."

Lestrade, taking Sherlock's phone, closed the door and went outside. "Hello? This is Victor."

"It's been a while, Victor."

"Lestrade? How's it been! I know it was a wreck three years ago since a fellow University friend of mine died."

"No he didn't!"

"Oh he did! Didn't you see the Fall?"

"He's alive and if you think I'm kidding you, then get here as soon as possible."

"Don't you think if he were alive he would take escape by now while we are talking."

"He trusts me to keep me a secret. He was the one who requested me to call you."

"Anything I can do for you two. I will come over there. Just give me the address."

"If possible, the secret has to be kept between us three so please when you bring your wife, tell her to stay with the Watsons for some time."

"Indeed."

After some hours of usual solitude, Lestrade gets a phone call from Sherlock's phone. "Yes?"

"Can you explain the story in your office if possible? It's Sunday and no one works on that time."

"Yes. Of course. Though with the cameras there. we might have to deactivate them in order to communicate through writing."

"Yes. We don't want anyone to hear us as well or have some secret camera we have no idea they placed, right?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

tori no you ni habatakeru nara kimi no moto e tondeyuku deshou (If I could flutter like a bird, I would fly to you)
soshite kizu o otta sono se ni boku no hane o sashidasu deshou (And offer my wing, to your wounded back)

The two wrote back and forth on paper like school kids passing notes.

"That's what happened?"

"Yes. This is from what I saw and what Sherlock told me hours before."

"I-I. I mean. Wow. He found some one as smart as him and he ruined Sherlock's reputation?"

"Well, he's dead so there's no point for revenge."

"I know! And his brother told everything about Sherlock to him? How could he do that. I would NEVER do that despite what happened between me and Sherlock during our college years! A year or two after graduation happened, this-this happens to him! God! I really want to try to comfort him and apologize!"

"He's sleeping no-"

Sherlock opens the door. He sees Lestrade, then Victor, then back to Lestrade. "Sor-"

"Don't apologize. He's going to help you as well as I am."

Sherlock gets pulled into an embrace by Victor. "Long time no see. Nice disguise by the way."

"Same. And...thank you."

Victor squeezes Sherlock's arms. "What have you been doing for the past three years? You're only lean muscle and bone!"

"I can explain that in Lestrade's place."

"Ah. Let's go."

They reached back to Lestrade's house. Sherlock explained what occupations he tried to keep, times he got fired until he finds a job perfect for him. There was one job he was able to keep and just this month he was on holiday.

"You got hired by Tony Stark? No way!"

"That's Sherlock for you."

"We had some common ground despite him knowing a different branch from science. His "avengers" squad didn't really appreciate another..."

"Smart-elec?"

"Yeah. He found me useful in figuring out what happened during enemy attacks so they can improve the security. Tony often tells me to keep watch of the Stark tower whenever he goes fighting with the avengers."

"And those wounds?"

Sherlock sighs and keeps quiet. Victor says, "Nevermind. Sorry for asking."

"No...you were curious. So, I will answer." Sherlock pauses, clasping his hands together like he used to do and spoke. "They came...from one time during my job, I was abducted by the villans and experimented on. I was saved and cured. But, they say that in order to cure my brain completely due to the experiments, I have to endure physical pain for a couple of months so they let me have a one month holiday and come back to check if my conditions are improving."

"So, what brought you here immediately. You have three weeks left."

"I...wanted to see if everyone moved on and I myself being forgotten as I expected to happe-"

Sherlock chest starts to ache. Sherlock immediately places a hand over his chest and a hand on top of the other hand. "Ngg..."

Lestrade picks Sherlock up from the seat and places Sherlock's open arm and places it over his shoulder. "Alone time?"

"Yes...please."

"Pardon us, Victor."

"Oh! No worries! Do what you must! I have to take my leave now according to the time. Promised to take my wife to dine in a proper restaurant before driving home! Farewell, Lestrade. Feel better, Sherlock!"

"Till next time, Victor!" Lestrade shouts.

kaze no you ni nagareru no nara kimi no soba ni tadoritsuku deshou (If I could flow like the wind, I would reach you)
tsuki no you ni kagayakeru nara kimi o terashitsuzukeru deshou (If I could shine like a moon, I would keep shining on you)

After reaching the guest bedroom, Lestrade places Sherlock on the bed. Sherlock tries to reach for Lestrade's open hand. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything..."

Lestrade sighs and brushes over Sherlock's curls, still using the other hand to hold on into Sherlock. "You don't have to sa-"

"I must. After these years passing by and meeting you once again, I am starting to overcome emotions I myself cannot comprehend. I'm afraid-afraid."

"Afraid of what? Tell me."

"I...I can't deduct it, inspector. I only have a month to deduce this feeling. I fear it could be used against me. I fear...I'll end up hurting people I cared about again..."

"Do you want me to sleep next to you. For comfort?"

"If it helps, yes."

Sherlock moves a bit to give Lestrade. Realizing the guest bed has only weight for two people but surface area for one, Lestrade places Sherlock on top of him. "Inspe"

"Your weight doesn't crush me and mine will crush your bony yet lean body. Just try to sleep."

"Alright."

kimi ga mou kore ijou nido to kowai mono o (I'll be anything)
minakute sumu no nara boku wa nan ni demo narou (If it can stop you from being seized with fear)

Lestrade notices tears in Sherlock's eyes as he was sleeping. "Thank you..." Sherlock mutters in his sleep.

Lestrade sighs, one of his hands brushing over Sherlock's hair and the other on Sherlock's back.

Sherlock, I won't let you get hurt or anyone ever hurting you again. You once told Anderson you were a sociopath. But, you are not. You were never a sociopath. You were isolated because of a special asset you had others feared. So, they resorted to isolating you, mocking you, and whatever. Because of them, you started to believe them and behaved like one, locking your feelings and heart away, waiting for someone to see what you were really like. I promise to protect you and fix you from that artificial mask people placed on you due to them fearing and envying your talent.

Lestrade closes his eyes while holding on to Sherlock protectively until another day.