Previous part of Time Lords.

***

John was sitting at the desk working on his computer when the door opened. "Mycroft?"

"Good morning, John. I do hope I'm not interrupting."

"It wouldn't really matter if you were, would it?" John asked. He shut his computer and moved to his chair. "Can I get you anything?"

"Thank you, no. I'm here because Sherlock believes that you may be able to help me with an inquiry into a former military man."
Mycroft settled into Sherlock's chair and smiled. "Information has come to light that this man, Sebastian Moran, was involved with Moriarty, and we have limited information on him. Do you recognize the name?"

"Only because of the scandal he caused in India," John said. "Everyone was talking about it, even as far off as we were, because we were all sure that he was going to be tried and sentenced to death."

"Yet he wasn't?"

"He somehow managed to avoid all charges and left the country," John said.

Mycroft gazed off into the distance. He would have to check with his military contacts and find out exactly how a soldier managed to do such a thing. "Do you remember the exact details of what he was doing?"

"Rumor said that he was caught with artifacts that should have been in a museum, or had been in a museum," John said, thinking hard. "He killed a couple of policemen when they came to question him about them, and wasn't arrested for a month or so. I think the military was working to make sure they had a very solid case before they tried him."

"And yet they failed to do so."

"Yeah. It was really weird. I hadn't thought about him in a couple of years. All of this was way before I was shot and sent home. How does he tie in with Moriarty? I thought you and Sherlock managed to wrap that up."

"We did, however, there were some questions that had yet to be answered when Sherlock left on his holiday," Mycroft said. "Moran's name came up in relation to one of those."

"How's Sherlock enjoying his forced holiday?" John asked with a grin. "I can't imagine he's doing too great not being able to do anything but rest."

"I've relaxed that stipulation slightly as I need his help with this," Mycroft replied. "However, I also believe it too dangerous for him to be in London right now, so he'll remain in France until this matter is cleared up."

"Are you going to go find Moran and question him?"

"I'm going to inquire into him, yes. I do thank you for you aid, John. I'll let you know if there's anything else you can do to help. Even if it is going to stop Sherlock from destroying his hotel."

John grinned. "I wouldn't mind seeing France again, Mycroft. Just let me know what else I can do."

Mycroft nodded and left, thinking, not for the first time, that he might have been a little too forceful on John's memory alteration. The man was a little more easy going than he recalled. Mycroft sighed, he might have to do something about that if he could find the time. Moran, however, came first.
**********

With more information at his disposal, Mycroft made contact with some of his very well placed spies and put out feelers for information on Moran. He was able to obtain an address almost instantly, in Conduit Street, Mayfair, but other information was slower to come in. It was frustrating. He tapped his phone on the desk a few times, thinking, and then finally dialed a number.

"What do you want, Mycroft?"

"A little busy, were you, Sherlock?"

"The Doctor is learning new things about bananas right now, so yes, we're a little busy," Sherlock said. "What do you want?"

"I need you both back here."

"What? Why?"

"To help me deal with Moran. There's something wrong with all of this, Sherlock. It's dangerous and I don't want you in the middle of it, but I think this is an affair that will require all three of us before it's over."

There was a pause. "Mycroft? What's going on?"

"Doctor. I am starting to have doubts that Moran is human."

"You think he's an alien in a human skin? Oh, I hope he's not a Slitheen. I've really had enough of them."

"A what?"

"A family that's been sentenced to death on their home planet of Raxacoricofallapatorius and seem to like popping up here to try and destroy the planet to make money. Don't suppose you can have Moran picked up and taken to a holding cell like you had Moriarty in, could you?"

Mycroft sighed. "I would have to have a very good reason to do so, but I believe I can come up with one. Being linked to Moriarty, that could be reason enough for a friendly chat with him," he said. "But Doctor, use care when you come back with Sherlock. There were, complications, with Moriarty."

"I told you to kill him, Mycroft."

"My superiors felt otherwise. They let him go."

He jerked the phone away from his ear when very loud and creative swearing started to pour through it. If the situation hadn't been so serious, Mycroft would have smiled at hearing his native language again. "Doctor."

"The man is deadly, Mycroft. To you. To me. To Sherlock. Probably even to John and anyone else associated with Sherlock," the Doctor said. "And you just turned him lose. Oh, I can't believe it. You, of all people should have known better. Right, we're on our way back. I'll find us a safe landing point. Where do you want to meet up?"

"St. James's Park after dark," Mycroft said. "Doctor, you should know that we still have Rose in custody. Her mind was tampered with and I feel she's a danger to herself, as well as others. You can take a look when you get back."

"Fine. We'll be there at ten," the Doctor said. "Whenever ten is. Have a car waiting for us, Mycroft. I don't want Sherlock out in the open until this is resolved."

"In that, Doctor, we are in perfect agreement."

***

Mycroft was in one of his lesser used offices when he heard the sound of wet shoes on the floor. Frowning, he looked up to find both Sherlock and the Doctor were soaking wet. "Dare I ask what happened?"

"He landed us at the bottom of the lake in St. James's Park," Sherlock said. "The TARDIS's force field doesn't extend that far away from the entrance, so we got wet. I want a shower. Those geese tried to get a little too friendly for my tastes."

"Through there, but do behave yourselves," Mycroft sighed.

"Go on, Sherlock, I'll be there in a minute. I want to talk to Mycroft."

"Could you at least change first, Doctor? You are dripping on my rug."

The Doctor sighed and followed Sherlock into the attached bathroom. "He's upset," he said softly. "What do you think is going on?"

"I have no idea," Sherlock said. "But for Mycroft to be showing his emotions like this, there is something horribly wrong. Can't you feel it, Doctor? There's a faint trace even in here."

"Yeah, you're right. I do feel it. What's more, I've felt it before. Blimey, Sherlock, that's not an alien trace," the Doctor said. He grabbed a towel and rubbed his hair fiercely. "That's a trace that shouldn't be here. It's not possible, but I'm going to find out what the hell it's doing here."

"Doctor."

"What?"

Sherlock smirked. "You might want to put on some clothes first."
**********

When both the Doctor and Sherlock were clean, dry and dressed, they followed Mycroft to the waiting car and drove off into the night. "Mycroft, let me in, would you?" the Doctor asked softly.

"Why?"

"Because I think you've been touched by someone and you don't even know it." The Doctor shifted closer and ran a finger along Mycroft's cheek. "I'm picking up a psychic scent that I shouldn't be. I want to make sure you're okay."

Mycroft swallowed hard, but nodded and closed his eyes. He felt hands cradling his head and relaxed, lowering his shields to allow the Doctor access to his mind. It was hard for him to be so open with anyone, even his brother's lover, simply because he was so used to keeping things closed off. Mycroft hadn't allowed anyone close to him in years.

"Yeah, it's there. Someone got in, Mycroft," the Doctor said softly. "And I know this person. I know him all too well, and he shouldn't be here. This shouldn't be possible."

"Doctor?"

"Let me check on Rose first, Mycroft. Sherlock can help you, there's nothing planted that I can find, but the two of you know each other better than anyone else." The Doctor sighed. "My poor Rose. If he did anything to harm her, damaged her in any way, then I'll kill him with my bare hands."

Sherlock put a hand on his lover's shoulder and squeezed. "Who do you think it is, Doctor? Who could do something like this?"

"No, I'm not saying a name. Not yet. That's what he wants. That's what'll give him all the power he needs to finish up his grand plan." The Doctor sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh, he's trying to be clever. He is clever, that's the problem. But I'm more clever than he is now. I know something that he doesn't, and this is going to be his last night alive."
**********

Sherlock hadn't been inside his brother's head in years. He knew that Mycroft was not happy with the situation, but the elder sat down primly and closed his eyes. "You know what to do, Sherlock," Mycroft said. "Any state secrets you see, kindly keep them secret. You do know how it upsets people, and we have enough problems as it is."

"Mycroft, anything I see now, doing this, I won't retain. I just want to make sure you're healthy and this mystery person the Doctor is ranting about didn't hurt you." Sherlock took his brother's head carefully in his hands and closed his eyes as well. He was concerned about the level of anger he could feel pouring off of his lover, that they had someone in custody who could have snuck past Mycroft's mental shields without him knowing about it, and who could be a threat to everyone around them. Sherlock didn't know what all was happening, but he knew they had to take it one slow step at a time. First check the minds of those they cared about, then confront the mystery man. Or, at least, mystery to them. The Doctor seemed to know exactly who was waiting for them. With a small sigh, Sherlock set about checking his brother's mind for any problems or traps that could have been placed there by their mystery man.
**********

The Doctor stood in the observation room and just watched Rose for a few minutes. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he could see it. His sweet girl had been mentally raped and not even known it. Her mind had been altered so the only thing she could think of was getting back to the Doctor, staying with him, doing whatever it took to stay at his side. But she would still age. Still die. Rose was still human, no matter what her mind was telling her, and the Doctor felt his hearts clench when he realized that he would have to tell her good-bye. He might not even be able to heal her completely and might have to wipe her mind of everything they had done together. He wondered if this was what Moran wanted to have happen. To try and hurt the Doctor by attacking his companion. The Doctor knew that he was well known for liking to have companions with him, and more than a fair share of them did come from Earth. The Doctor liked humans, liked the hope and dreams they carried with them no matter what they were doing. He sighed and stepped into the room. "Rose."

"Doctor. Oh, thank god you're here. It's been so horrible. There's a man that keeps coming to see me and I don't know who he is or what he wants, but he says he's a friend of yours and I think he's touched me a few times, but I can't remember."

"Hush, Rose, it's okay. That man, he's taller than me, frowns all the time, wears stuff suits? Yeah, that's what I thought. That's just Mycroft. He's an old friend and, if he did touch you, it was just your head. Man doesn't like women, not that way."

"What?"

"He's gay, Rose," the Doctor said. "Still, I'm here now. Let's have a look at you, all right? Can you sit down?"

"Are you going into my head?" Rose asked.

"Yeah. Sherlock and I are checked over everyone to make sure there's no problems from an alien spore that dropped to Earth a couple of weeks back. I was just out checking your mum, she's fine. Wants you to come for tea and supper before we head back out again," the Doctor said. He put his hands into position and slipped into her mind while she was distracted. Luckily he was very good at multitasking. "Jackie said she'd make a cake too. I've never known her to bake before, so that sounded like it might be worth checking out. What do you say?"

"Mum can't bake. She just hides the burned bits under frosting," Rose said. "Where did these spore things come from?"

"An asteroid that passed too close to the Earth, must have gone through a space cloud that had been seeded with the things. Just goes to show, you never know what the aliens are going to do to try and hurt you humans," the Doctor said. "Relax for me, Rose. Let me in. You know I'm not going to hurt you. Just want to make sure you're healthy."

"Where is he, that Sherlock guy? He's really rude."

The Doctor smiled. "Nah, he's not rude. He just doesn't like people. He's a genius and that makes him sensitive to things that others can't handle. Like people. Yeah, he comes off as rude, but he's not. I think if you gave him a chance, you'd really like him." The Doctor paused for a moment. "Too bad that can't happen."

"Why can't it happen?" Rose asked.

"Because you've been changed, Rose." The Doctor stepped away from her and sat down in one of the other chairs. "Changed and you didn't even know it, did you? I'm so, so sorry it came to this. I don't even know how it happened."

"Doctor, what are you talking about?"

"I can't tell you. You just have to trust me. Wait here, I'll take care of everything. Then I'll be back to let you out. Okay?"

"No, I want to come with you."

"You can't. No one can. This is something I have to face alone."

The Doctor stood and swept out of the room, locking the door behind him and hurrying to find the Holmes brothers. He should have realized there was something wrong with Rose, tried to think back to when the attack on her could have happened, and couldn't. There had been so many times that she was out of his sight, so many chances for her to have been grabbed that he couldn't say how long the instructions had been burned into her brain. "Sherlock?"

"There's a link, but it's dormant at the moment," Sherlock said. "I can close it off if I have to, but it'll take all of my focus to keep Mycroft safe. Who are we dealing with, Doctor? I've never seen anything like this before. Not even back home."

"I did, at the end of the Time War," the Doctor said. "You stay here with Mycroft and keep him safe. He's got secrets in there that no one needs to have access to." He dug in his pocket and pulled out a knife. "I hate weapons. Ever since I destroyed our people, I vowed never again to hold a weapon in my hand. But it's the only way to kill him. The only thing I can do. Blood on my hands again, Sherlock. It never ends. Death always finds me in the end."

Sherlock pulled his lover into a hug, mindful of the knife, and pressed their foreheads together. "You do what needs to be done," he murmured. "In that you are the most powerful man I know. You mourn the loss of those who die, and that makes your heart bigger than anyone else. Doctor, don't let Moran, or whatever his name is, get to you. This is what he wants. For you to be doubting yourself. When you go in there, you cannot have an iota of doubt that you are doing the right thing. That's how he'll leech onto your mind."

"You're right, Sherlock. I know you're right. I'll do this for you, Mycroft, Rose, and every person on this planet. I'll keep them safe. But we have another battle to fight after this. Moran will have driven Moriarty over the edge, and he'll be playing his end game as well." The Doctor pulled back and looked into his lover's eyes. "Call John and anyone else you care about. Warn them. Get them somewhere safe. Then we'll deal with Moriarty."

Sherlock nodded. "I'll be right here with Mycroft, Doctor. Call me if you need me."

"Keep Mycroft's mind safe," the Doctor said.

"I will."

The Doctor nodded, kissed his lover as deeply as he could and then stepped back. He put the knife in his trouser's pocket and squared his shoulders. "No matter what happens in there, no matter what you hear, don't come in." He leaned in and pressed his head up against Sherlock's. *Not unless I call for a banana. Then come help me.*

Sherlock nodded and stepped back. "I'll keep Mycroft safe. We'll be here."

The Doctor stepped up to the door, took a deep breath and went inside the room. "Well now, Rassilon, how nice to see you again. Let me tell you what happens to people who mess with the ones I love."

***

Moran looked puzzled. "Who are you and what are you talking about?" he asked. "I was taken from my home against my will and plan to talk to the media about this once I'm free."

"It's not going to do any good, you know," the Doctor said. "I can smell your psychic scent from here, it's rolling off you in waves. Not a bad plan, you know, coming to Earth to hide as a human. There's lots of people here, it's easy enough to get lost, but you just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? Nah, not the creator of the Time Lords. You just had to start meddling, didn't you?"

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprise that you're the one who found me," Rassilon said, dropping the act. "Not after you ruined all my plans during the time war."

"I prefer to think of it as saving the universe from an insane man," the Doctor said. "You knew what the Final Sanction would do to everyone other than the Time Lords. But you didn't tell anyone about it, did you? No, you were going to sacrifice all of creation without a second thought, just to save one race."

"The race that you killed, Doctor. You killed your own people."

"Yes, I did. That was one of the hardest choices I've ever had to make, because they were my people. My family. My friends. But better one race than the universe, Rassilon." The Doctor leaned against a wall near the door and looked at the other time lord. "I'm curious how you managed to escape the Time Lock."

"I'm sure you are."

"Okay, don't tell me. Insane bad guys just don't know the rules these days. It's depressing. I was all set for you to talk about how clever you are, how you escaped, your plans to take over the world using Moriarty." The Doctor grinned. "Now he was an insane genius. I wonder how much of the evil part was his doing and how much of it was yours."

"You know you can get all the answers, don't you, Doctor?" Rassilon smiled. "You just have to come over here and touch me."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" The Doctor grinned. "I'm the only one who stands in your way now. The only one who knows all of your dark and dirty secrets. You made a mistake, Rassilon, when you touched Rose and Mycroft. They're under my protection, and I take that very seriously."

"Yes, Mycroft. Tell me, Doctor. How is it that no one on Gallifrey knew that there were two time lords living here as humans with all of their powers in tact," Rassilon said. "How long have they been here? Why are they here?"

"So now you think that you're the one back in power?" the Doctor asked. "Mycroft and Sherlock are here for their own reasons. The Council knew they were here, they just never pressed the issue. Mycroft and Sherlock have done no harm so they were left alone, and that's all you need to know." The Doctor took a banana out of his jacket pocket and peeled it slowly. "I don't need to look into your mind, Rassilon, to know why you're here and what you're doing. It's all revenge. I ruined your plan, your grand scheme for the time lords and you want to get back at me. That's all you're doing here. Now, by rights, I should send you back to the time lock and make sure that you can never escape again. But I just don't think that's going to do it this time. If you escaped once, then you'll be able to escape again and I really don't think the universe needs that sort of a threat."

"What's that thing?"

"This? It's a banana. Banana's are good. Always take a banana to a party, Rassilon. Well, except you aren't going to be going to any more parties, so it doesn't really matter. Want to try a bite?"

"You've probably injected it with poison or something that will hurt me."

"I'd never do that. Shoot you through the head for hurting Rose, yes, but I'd never poison a banana." The Doctor took a large bite and chewed. "Tasty. Just the right season for them. You sure? You look hungry."

"You're not going to fool me that easily, Doctor."

"Suit yourself, I just thought you might be hungry." The Doctor finished the banana and dropped the peel on a table near the door.
"So, you're here for revenge. Big evil plans and all of that, and you've been stopped again, but not by me. That really must bother you. You had an escape plan though. Two of them, if I know you. I think I've got a way to stop you leaving before this is all over with. I wouldn't want you to miss the grand finale of the plan."

Rassilon looked at him for a long moment. "You're still so young, Doctor, you don't know what you're up against. I'm the creator of the time lords. I've lived for more years than you can ever imagine."

"Linear years or wibbly-wobbly years?"

"What are you babbling about now?"

"Well, it's how I explain it to humans. Time is not a line. From a non-linear non-subjective viewpoint it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff."

"You're mad."

"Yep, that's me. Just a mad man with a box," the Doctor grinned. He took out the knife and put it down on the table next to him. "See, Rassilon, one advantage I have over every single one of you stuffy old time lords is that I travel. I'm curious. I'm not afraid of danger so I go places that others wouldn't, and learn things that no one else knows. I don't like weapons. I don't like using them, but to stop a threat against people I care about, I'll do it. Because no one else will."

***

Sherlock could feel the man they had in custody battering against his mind, against Mycroft's mind, trying to find a way in. It bothered him to not be able to be in with his lover, helping the Doctor face whoever had been posing as Moran. Sherlock had a feeling that there was something that the Doctor wasn't telling him, something about the Time War that was being kept back, for whatever reason. Whatever reason the Doctor had for holding back information had to be a good reason, although part of Sherlock knew that it was possible that the Doctor had just forgotten that he never mentioned it. All Sherlock was going to be able to do was hold on, keep Mycroft safe, and hope that there wasn't a link to Rose as well. There was no way he would be able to shield both his brother and the companion. It was all down to the Doctor.
***********

"You think it'll be that easy to stop me, Doctor? You don't even know what my full plan is yet," Rassilon said with a smile.

"That's true, I don't, but I don't really need to. As long as I'm sure you're not going anywhere anytime soon, then I can spend as long as I want to cleaning up your mess." The Doctor started to dig in his pockets, pulling out paint tubes, brushes, cleaner, three books, a few gem stones and another banana. "I've done a lot of research since the end of the Time War, and I've learned more than you could imagine. The things I've done, the places I've gone. It hasn't always been fun, people have died no matter what I did, but I've done my best to make the universe a better place."

"What's all that for? How did you fit it all in your pockets?"

"Time Lord pockets, they're bigger on the inside," the Doctor smiled. "The paint is to draw on the floor, walls, ceiling and door with. The brushes are for the paint, the cleaner is so I don't make a mess. The books, well, those were due back at the library two hundred years in the future, I really should take those back, the stones are pretty and the banana is for when I get hungry." He grinned, looking rather mad. "Wouldn't you just love to know what I'm doing."

"Not really. It seems to me that your time away from home addled your brain."

"That's what you'd like to think, isn't it?" The Doctor decided the table would make a good enough pallet for the pain and started debating color. "But then again, I really am a bit of a mad man, just a mad man with a box. That's what my friends say most of the time. What color should I make the door? I'm thinking red would be good. A nice bright vivid red that doesn't in any way look like blood."

Rassilon sighed. "Doctor, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You wouldn't, would you? Because you never left home. You stayed and plotted and butchered and ruled and created and destroyed, but you never once traveled." The Doctor started to paint a series of symbols on the door, taking care with each one. "Which means you've let your brain go to rot, Rassilon. Maybe that's why you came up with such a stupid idea for ending the Time War. Destroy the universe and all life just to save the time lords? Beings of light, we would have become. Who wants to live as light? You'd never be able to eat a banana."

"I'm wondering how our people gave birth to something like you."

"Well, there's a few black sheep in any family." The Doctor turned and grinned. "I could paint you. Make you match what I'm doing here."

"You'll do no such thing. Besides, didn't you say you didn't want to touch me?"

"I did, yeah. I suppose even contact through a brush would be enough to lead you into my mind, given how easily you slipped into Rose's." The Doctor put down the brush with the red paint on it and picked up a clean one. "I will never forgive you for what you've done to her."

"How is what I did any worse than what you've done to her?" Rassilon asked.

"I never raped her mind," the Doctor said in a low, cold tone. There was tension curled around ever word. "I gave her a chance to see the universe, to live outside of this backwater world and expand her horizons. I'm not responsible for her feelings, Rassilon. I'm not the one who took whatever love she felt for me and turned it into a weapon. Don't you dare talk to me about using others for gain."

"It seems I struck a nerve. I expected the man who killed his own people to be more violent. To have more anger in his soul."

The Doctor put down the brush he had been using on the walls - green paint - and picked up a third. "I didn't want to kill them. My family, my blood family was there. My children were there. Friends, teachers, ones I love, they were all there," he said. "We live such long lives, have so many connections with people, and I lost them all because you decided that destroying the universe was an acceptable solution to war. And I'd do it again. I almost did. The daleks survived the war, Rassilon. They're still out there, but because you forced my hand, there's only me left to deal with them."

"So you killed your people for nothing?"

"I saved the universe. I think they'd see that as a fair bargain." The Doctor pulled a chair over and started to paint with yellow on the ceiling. "Hope you don't mind this dripping in your hair. It's not easy to work up here."

"You never gave our people a chance to decide what they wanted, Doctor. Their choice was taken away from them by you."

"Yes, it was. But after you killed one of the council for disagreeing with you, there was no other choice. What did you do to get them all to agree to such a thing? Did you lie to them? There's no way the council that I remember would have agreed to kill everything just to save themselves."

"Maybe you didn't know your people as well as you thought you did," Rassilon said. "Now, when are you doing to tell me exactly what it is you're painting?"

The Doctor grinned as he put the last stroke through the brown painted symbols on the floor. "That's step one," he said. "This is an old trick I came across, oh centuries ago now, here on Earth. I don't know that it'll work, but it's the best shot I have, especially when combined with the other parts of the plan."

"This is a plan?"

"No, this is a banana. These are gems." The Doctor leaned against the table and took a bite of the banana. "The plan is still in the works, you see. But oh, is it a great plan. I like a good plan, even if I do normally think of them in stages as I'm working and often have to rework the plan in the middle to suit the consequences of the original plan."

"Doctor, I think you should just let me go."

The Doctor laughed. "You honestly thought you were in my mind?" he asked. "Is that what your senses are telling you? That you have control of me? No one controls me, Rassilon. I have help on my side, and she's wonderful."

"Rose is too weak to help you."

"Sorry, did I say Rose? She's a gem, but she's not who I was talking to. No, I meant my TARDIS." The Doctor dropped the peel on the table and started to dig in his pockets again. "My old girl is rather fond of me, so she always keeps an eye on me whenever I'm out."

"You are mad, there's no way a TARDIS of any generation can manage to shield the mind of a time lord."

"Mine does. She's learned while we were traveling too. And water, Rassilon, is a good magnifier. Everyone knows that, and my girl is sitting at the bottom of a lake. One of the biggest magnifiers you can get in this city." The Doctor started to place gem stones around the room. "She's such a clever TARDIS. You lot had her in the museum, but I saw her for what she really is. A wonderful, beautiful girl who wants to be among the stars as much as I did. So we went together, and we've been together ever since."

"That TARDIS is a broken down old wreck who should be scrapped," Rassilon said.

"Never. No one, not even you, will ever touch my TARDIS."

"How are you going to stop me?"

The Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver. "Like this."

Rassilon screamed when the gems around the room came to life, vibrating at different wave lengths, isolating him from the minds around him. "What did you do?"

"I told you, it's old magic," the Doctor said. "The crystals combined with the paint are enough to block off all psychic links beyond this room. You can't go to another mind now, Rassilon. You're trapped in here, with me, in this form."

"I can still get into your head."

"No you can't. I'm protected. Now, the interesting thing is, this knife." The Doctor picked up the knife and held it up. "Recognize it?"

"You took it."

"Yes, I did. Before I ran the first time. It's been tucked safely away in my TARDIS for all these centuries. The one weapon you fear." The Doctor stepped closer. "Like I said, normally I'd just send you back to the Time Lock and leave you there to rot, but you hurt my friends. No one hurts my friends."

Rassilon leaned back. "Do you want me to beg, Doctor?"

"No. You created the Time Lords. You had some dignity at one point, I won't take that away from you. But all you've proven with your stunts here on Earth is that you're willing to kill innocent people to get your way, you haven't changed a bit." The Doctor stepped forward and plunged the knife into the right heart. "This is the only solution left to me, Rassilon. Another time lord dead by my hands." He stabbed the left heart and left the knife buried for a moment. The only way to be sure that the other time lord was dead was to remove the hearts completely, but the Doctor needed a moment to pay his respects to a man who had once been a legend.
**********

"It's over."

"Doctor, you're covered in blood."

"None of it's mine," the Doctor said. "You got a shower around this place, Mycroft?"

"Of course. What of Moran?"

"Burn the remains. He's dead. He was a Time Lord, just like us."

Sherlock and Mycroft stared at each other. "How?"

"I don't know. He was locked away at the end of the Time War, I thought he was dead. But he came back. How many did he bring out with him, that's the real question?"

"What did you do?"

"Gutted him completely," the Doctor said. "Burn him, Mycroft. Let him have that decency. Do not let me find out that your mysterious superiors have stopped you from doing this."

"I'll take care of it," Mycroft said. "Sherlock, you know where the showers are. Why don't you go with the Doctor and help him get cleaned off? Then we can see to Rose?"

"I'll take her home," the Doctor said. "Sherlock, you need to get home and talk to John. Let him know that there's danger coming, real danger that might be fatal. Call your friends, warn them. Moriarty is still loose, and now the man who was controlling him is dead."

"He'll be worse than ever."

"And more deadly."

***

"Doctor, after you're done with Rose, what are you going to do?" Mycroft asked as the remains were packed into a body bag.

"I'll to go Baker Street for a night or two," the Doctor replied. "I still cannot believe you let Moriarty go like this, Mycroft. I saw the man's mind, he's insane. He's a danger to not only us, but everyone in this city. Maybe everyone on this planet, and you just turned him loose because some stupid superiors told you to. How hard would it have been to have him killed?"

"Very much so, I'm afraid," Mycroft sighed. "They wouldn't even allow me to have him tracked once he was freed from our care. I don't know where he is or what he has been doing. I can check with my people, see if they can find him on the CCTV network to at least give us a starting place."

"He's too smart to allow himself to show up on those. He'll be hidden, disguised, very likely showing symptoms of paranoia and possible decline into the dark." The Doctor pulled on his coat. "He's coming, Mycroft. He's coming and we might not be able to stop him without more people dead." He opened the door. "I'm taking Rose home and I'm going to have to wipe her mind. One of the few friends I thought I'd be able to have around for a while, and I have to take it all away. God, her mother is going to kill me."

"Her mother?"

"Rose is nineteen, Mycroft. She's been my responsibility since she joined me and her mother already hates me for taking her away. I don't know what's going to happen when I try to explain why I have to erase all memory of me." The Doctor sighed. "I'll have to do it to Jackie too. Blimey, this is going to be an unpleasant night."
**********

The Doctor stayed silent on the trip to Rose's flat, no matter what question she asked him. He was torn. In his own way, he loved Rose deeply, and if it wasn't for his relationship with Sherlock, he thought they might have had a chance. She was definitely one of the better and braver companions he'd had on his travels, taking everything in stride and soaking up the new cultures and places they visited. It hardly seemed fair to have to take all of that away from her, but he also knew that Rassilon had changed her so dramatically that it was very likely going to be the only option he had. He wasn't sure how he was going to handle losing Rose. Both he and the TARDIS were happier when she was around, she brought such life back to them. There was no way to avoid the fact that the Doctor and the TARDIS were both getting on in years. Another few centuries and they might be forced to slow down a little on their travels. No one lived forever, and the Doctor already had a plan for himself and his gal when they reached the end of their time. Maybe Sherlock would want to go with them, they weren't that far off in age. He'd have to ask his lover about that.

When they got to the flat, Jackie wasn't home so the Doctor sent Rose to sleep and settled in to wait. He knew that he could have spent the time with Rose, searching her mind to see if there was some way to avoid a brain wipe, but he wanted to be a little more composed when he talked with Jackie.

"Rose? Doctor?"

"I'm in here, Jackie. Rose is asleep," the Doctor replied, standing up.

"You two, always running about, no wonder she's tired. How 'bout you then? Do you want a coffee?"

"No, thanks thought," the Doctor said. "Jackie, I need to talk to you about something serious."

She moved over near him and sat down. "What's wrong?"

"There's no easy way to say this. Jackie, Rose was attacked mentally. She's not hurt, not like you're thinking. Go check on her if you want to. She's not going to wake up until the morning," the Doctor said. "But this attack, it was done in such a way that it's changed her, and there's no way that I can change her back."

"Tell me what happened."

"There was a great war between my people and an alien race called the daleks. The Last Great Time War. One of our leaders, the founder of our people had a plan. He could eliminate the daleks and save my people, but at a cost that was too high to pay. The end of the universe and everything in it," the Doctor said. "All of creation gone to save one race. I couldn't let that happen, Jackie. Not the universe. Not the people who lived there. So I stopped him. I destroyed my own people and the daleks to save the universe. I thought it was worth it, to know that there would be no more daleks to hurt people." He paused for a deep breath. "But I was wrong. The daleks survived, Jackie. They managed to survive and breed and they've come back. Rose stopped them last time, but I can still sense a few of them out there."

Jackie put a hand over his. "You made an impossible choice, Doctor. Isn't that what you always do?"

"It gets worse. One of the other Time Lords escaped from the lock, the prison if you will, that stops anyone who can travel in time from going back to that moment and stopping me," the Doctor said. "The founder of my people escaped and started to hunt me down. He managed to get into Rose's mind, Jackie, and did horrible things to her. I don't think I can reverse them. I don't think I can save her again."

"Doctor."

"Hit me, yell at me, do whatever you want. You'll never blame me as much as I blame myself, Jackie."

"Doctor, you sound like the old you. The first time we met," Jackie said. "Is Rose going to die?"

"No."

"Is she brain dead?"

"No. Jackie, no. You don't understand. This form of mental rape is subtle. It gets into your heard and puts ideas there that can never be removed. There aren't many time lords who would have been able to do it. I would even have trouble with this level of control, but that's partly because I don't want to control others." The Doctor took a deep breath. "I never told you or Rose about him, but I have a life partner. He doesn't travel with me right now because he's working on a project that will take a few more centuries to develop, but I visit him whenever I can. This time lord got into Rose's head and put the idea there that she needed to kill my life partner to be able to be with me for all time. Rose is still human. She will still age and die, just like she would had she never traveled with me. She's already made one attempt on his life, not even realizing what she was doing. Neither of us blame her for it, and we're both fine, but it means you have to make a choice now."

"Me?"

"I'm going to go in and bury all the memories of me deeply inside of her brain. It'll be like I erased them completely," the Doctor said. "They'll be sealed away tightly and nothing will ever be able to activate them again. Rose will be the same as she was before we met, Jackie. None of this will hurt her. She'll feel a little empty inside, because she will have lost something very important, but this needs to be done. She's a danger to herself right now, and I can't let any more harm come to her."

"All right, let me see if I understand this all," Jackie said. "Rose's mind has been hurt by a bad guy from your planet and she's tried to kill the man you love. In order to protect her, you're going to erase yourself from her mind and vanish completely."

"Yes."

"Isn't this the easy way out?" Jackie asked.

"No, no, Jackie, it isn't. This is the hardest way possible to deal with this situation. I love your daughter, she's my best friend. I would love nothing more than to be able to keep her with me," the Doctor said. "But my life partner is, well, he's my hearts. I have killed to keep him safe. Losing Rose is going to tear a hole in my hearts big enough that it'll feel like they've stopped. I'll never be able to see her again, never talk to her. Never hear her laugh, see that smile that shines like the sun when she's happy. But you'll still have all of that. If I don't do this, then it's possible Rose may try something to get to my life partner and end up dying in the process. I can't let that happen to her."

Jackie took a deep breath. "What's the choice I have to make? It sounds like your mind is made up."

"Do you want me to do the same to you?" the Doctor asked.

"No. No, I want to be able to remember everything," Jackie replied. "So that when Rose is sad, I'll be able to understand why."

"You understand that you can never tell her this secret. Never even hint at it."

"But you said that nothing would make her remember."

"Do you want to take that risk?" the Doctor asked. "Jackie, you're strong. You raised Rose after Pete died and look at how strong and independent she is. She takes after you. But after I bury all these memories, erase myself from her life, Rose will go on and continue to grow. Anything that could make her remember me could be enough to send her into psychic trauma, maybe even kill her. And I know you don't want to do that."

"I don't. What should I do, Doctor?"

"You should hate me, not be asking me for advice. I'm the one who caused all of this."

"No, no you're not. This person from your planet is the one who attacked Rose. You're trying to save her. Just like you always do. I know you love her, in whatever way you can," Jackie said. "Oh, maybe it's better you do it to the both of us. That way I won't have to worry about letting something slip up."

"Are you sure?"

"No, but I think it's for the best."

The Doctor nodded and took her hand. "You're a strong woman, Jackie Tyler. Rose is lucky to have you."

"What do we do now?"

"Let me put you to sleep, it's like hypnotizing you, and I'll take care of you first because you'll be the easier of the two of you," the Doctor said. "Then I'll work with Rose. You'll both wake up in the morning and everything will be back to normal again."

"No, it won't be, because you won't be in our lives," Jackie said. "Oh, Doctor, what about Mickey? How are you going to explain that?"

"I don't know. I'll think of something. Mickey is doing battle against some of the most evil beings in our universe. I won't have Rose thinking he ran away on her. You'll both remember the same thing, Jackie. Life will go on."

"Doctor, will you promise me you'll always keep the Earth safe?"

"Oh, Jackie, that's an easy promise to make. I will always keep the Earth safe. Humans are beings of hope, Jackie, and that's one emotion that can never be allowed to die out in the universe."

***

One of Mycroft's cars dropped Sherlock off at Baker Street. Normally he would have refused the help from his brother, if only on principle, but he wanted to get home and make sure that John was safe. He'd made one phone call while being driven across London. He had plans to make, but to do that, he needed data. Mycroft was going to be next to useless, having been tied up by his mysterious superiors, so Sherlock would have to rely on the next best source for information.



"John?"



The flat was empty, but neat. Sherlock could tell that someone, maybe John, but more likely Mrs. Hudson had taken advantage of his absence and cleaned up. His chemistry equipment was even clean, none of his experiments were left in the kitchen and he knew that if he looked in the fridge, the human remains would be gone. Not that it really mattered, he would always be able to recreate the experiments once Moriarty was taken care of.



"Sherlock, is that you?"



"Yes, Mrs. Hudson. Have you seen John?"



"Oh, not since early this morning. He's been spending time with such a nice young man. They met at the hospital when John was doing some fill-in work, and became fast friends. I think they had plans to go see a show and have dinner tonight," she said. "We thought you were still in France. How was your holiday?"



"Dull. Mrs. Hudson, Mycroft brought me home because Moriarty is getting ready to make his final move. Do you have any idea where John and his friend were planning to go tonight?"



"No, I'm sorry Sherlock, but I only know about this because I overheard Richard, that's the friend's name, mention something to John about seeing a wonderful show."



"Thank you," Sherlock said. "Oh, Mrs. Hudson, do you happen to know his last name?"



"Brook, Richard Brook. He works as a story-teller. John says that the kids just love him."



"I'm sure they do. Lestrade is on his way over, would you let him in when he rings?"



"Only for you, Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson smiled and bustled out of the flat.



Sherlock dug for his laptop, cursing in fairly fluent Gallifreyan when he couldn't find it immediately, and called his brother while it was booting up. "John's gone, Mycroft."



"What do you mean, gone?"



"I mean he's not here. Mrs. Hudson was just telling me that he's out on a date of some sort with a man he met at the hospital," Sherlock said. "What do you know about a man named Richard Brook?"



Mycroft sighed. "Absolutely nothing, Sherlock, but I'll see what I can locate for you. You do realize that it is possible that John's just out for a pleasant evening and will be home before you know the time has passed?"



"John's straight, Mycroft. He takes a great deal of pleasure in pointing that out at every opportunity," Sherlock said.



"Well then, you have to remember that he knows what Moriarty looks like. I find it highly doubtful that he's out doing anything with your main nemesis."



"Mycroft, you went into John's mind and buried information. How do you know that his memories of Moriarty weren't damaged in the process? You said it yourself, he didn't seem like himself when you came to call." Sherlock hit the computer trying to make it run faster.



"Sherlock, don't break your laptop and don't use the sonic screwdriver on it either," Mycroft said. "We'll find John. I'll alert my operatives and you have your homeless network. Let us not panic until everyone is fully accounted for."



"Damn it, Mycroft."



"Sherlock, I'll see that the Doctor locks you in the TARDIS if you don't calm down and start thinking rationally. I know you're worried for John, but blind panic is not going to help him any. Research this man that he's been spending time with. Ask Lestrade for his help whenever he arrives, and I'll see what I can find here." Mycroft sighed. "The Doctor is going to need you, Sherlock. You need to remember that as well."



"I know, Mycroft," Sherlock said. "He's heart-broken at having to leave Rose behind. I won't let any of this bleed over onto him, but we have to find John."



"We will, Sherlock. We will."



Sherlock put his phone down next to him on the sofa and pulled up google. He really wasn't fond of the search engine, but knew that it would give him the broadest line of results in the shortest amount of time.



"Sherlock?"



"Up here, Lestrade."



Lestrade closed the door behind him and put his hands on his hips. "You sounded like it was the end of the world or something on the phone, you know. What's going on?"



"Moriarty."



"Oh, bloody hell." Lestrade sank down next to Sherlock on the sofa and rubbed his face. "He's not blowing things up again, is he? I had the worst time convincing my superiors that it was one man who caused all those deaths and destruction. If not for your brother, I'd probably still be in meetings. What's he done now?"



"Mycroft had Moriarty in custody and was questioning him. Once he learned what he needed to know, he let Moriarty go," Sherlock said. "The biggest threat was to me, and those around me. That means you, Mrs. Hudson, Molly and John. I've managed to account for everyone and get them safe, except for John. I need your help."



"Isn't he out with Richard tonight?"



Sherlock stared at Lestrade. "You've met him?"



"Yeah, came round to the pub with John one night. Seems a nice enough bloke. Really enjoys his work, always on the lookout for new stories. He said he was translating a set for his next DVD."



"Where were the stories from?" Sherlock asked.



"Russia, I think he said. Somewhere in that part of the world, anyway," Lestrade replied. "It's weird, I always thought John was straight, but I guess it just takes the right person to disprove the rule."



"Now what are you on about?"



"Never thought I'd see the day when I knew something you didn't, Sherlock. I caught them in the loo at the pub. Lucky I didn't arrest them for public indecency or something. John looked pretty happy. But, then again, I would have been too if I had a guy doing that to me."



Sherlock looked up from his laptop. "Do not be vulgar, Lestrade. What else do you know about this Brook man?"



"Sherlock, just because you don't approve of or like sex, it doesn't mean the rest of us feel that way you know," Lestrade said.



"Lestrade, if you stay long enough this evening, you have a fair chance of meeting my boyfriend. Do not go off topic. What do you know about Brook?"



"Uhm, he's put out a bunch of DVDs, is really popular for kids' events, likes hanging out and talking with people," Lestrade said. "You know, hang on a second, I might have a picture of him on my phone."



"Lestrade, I've seen you struggle to turn your phone back on after a court appearance. Do not ask me to believe that you've worked out the photo function."



"I had some help, I'll admit, but Sally thought it was cute too."



"Oh, give me that." Sherlock grabbed the phone and started through the menu options, searching for the picture in question. "Really, Lestrade, am I going to have to sit you down and teach you how to use this thing?"



"Not after what happened when you tried to teach me to use my DVD player, no. Now, Sherlock, how long have you been hiding this boyfriend from the rest of us? I've never heard you mention him before."



"He travels a lot and is rarely around, so I don't talk about him," Sherlock said. "You've seen him a couple of times, back when we first met. He would have been wearing a light jumper and leather jacket with black jeans and boots."



Lestrade thought for a minute. "Oh, yeah, I do recall him. Never saw his face though. Does Mycroft know about him?" He waited for a minute. "Sherlock?"



"Lestrade, you are not to leave my side until I tell you it's safe. I don't care what you hear, see, or need to do. We're going to take Mrs. Hudson to pick up Molly and take them both to Mycroft," Sherlock said. "Then we'll figure out what to do next."



"Sherlock, what's wrong? What's going on?"



Sherlock turned the phone towards Lestrade, showing a picture of John with a dark-haired man, both of them smiling at the camera. "That's Jim Moriarty."

***

Mrs. Hudson wasn't too happy to be bundled out of her home so abruptly, but when Lestrade explained that they needed to take her somewhere they could be sure she was going to be safe for the night, and that they needed her help, she settled down and went willingly enough. Sherlock had called Mycroft back and asked for a car so they could be sure of the driver and get everyone to Mycroft's office building safely. Once they had picked up Molly, they were delivered to the Diogenes Club and the women were turned over to Anthea for the night. Lestrade tailed Sherlock through the building to the strangers' room where Mycroft was waiting for them.

"Can you think of anyone else who may be in danger tonight, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked in lieu of a greeting. "Detective Inspector, would you care for a drink?"

"I've put out word with the homeless network, they'll be safe enough," Sherlock replied. "Lestrade will have brandy, Mycroft. How are we going to find John and Moriarty?"

"Inspector?"

"Yeah, brandy's fine," Lestrade replied with a shrug.

"While I believe that the Doctor would be our best resource in this search, he's still working with Rose and her mother," Mycroft said. He handed Lestrade a glass and moved to sit in his favorite chair. "What about sending John a text?"

"I thought of that, but didn't want to make any move until I was sure everyone else was safe," Sherlock replied. "I sent one off while we were walking up here. John never turns his phone off, so he'll get it."

"The question becomes, who will reply. Perhaps I should send a text as well, to let John know that this is rather important," Mycroft said.

"Wait a second here, guys. I've met Richard, or Moriarty, whoever the hell he is and he seems nice. Didn't send out any signals that worried me in the least, and you know that I'm pretty good at reading people," Lestrade said.

Mycroft smiled tightly. "Yes, well, you haven't had much practice in reading dangerous psychopathic madmen, now have you?"

"I dunno, I work with Sherlock."

"I've told you repeatedly, Lestrade, I'm a high functioning sociopath. Honestly, does no one do research these days?" Sherlock asked. "Mycroft, I think if you send a text as well, and Moriarty gets it, he might hurt John faster than he's planning to. My text can be read as an 'I'm home from my trip' message from a flatmate. Though Moriarty is smart enough to read between lines that aren't even there."

"Well, I feel that I am at least partly to blame for this," Mycroft sighed. "I knew I should have made time to go back and check on John, but tensions growing in the Middle East took all of my attention. One of us shall have to check him over once he's home again, Sherlock."

"Mycroft, what are you talking about?" Lestrade asked.

"I'm afraid John took an instant and almost illogical dislike to Sherlock's lover. Things were said that should not have been said, and Sherlock left the country before they could talk things over again," Mycroft said. "I noticed there was something not right with John when I visited to ask him about a man I was investigating, but didn't have a chance to return to check up on him. Humans in pain can make some of the most illogical choices."

Sherlock's phone beeping interrupted any reply Lestrade could have made. "It's Moriarty," Sherlock said.

"How do you know it's not John?" Lestrade asked.

"Because John would never text me this." Sherlock handed over his phone.

The King up in his Tower sat
All alone save for his Fool
And one lone, ragged silver cat
The hordes quested for his Jewel

"What the hell does that mean?" Lestrade asked, passing the phone to Mycroft.

"Moriarty is the king, John is the fool," Sherlock replied. "You're the cat, for some reason, Lestrade, and Mycroft and I are the hordes after the jewel."

"But the question is, what's the jewel? We have the code, thanks to the Doctor. What else could Moriarty have been hiding?"

"Oh, stupid!" Sherlock hit his forehead. "I'm the fool and John's the jewel. You and the Doctor must be the hordes, Mycroft. Moriarty never saw me when he was being questioned. He only saw the two of you. So that means he wouldn't have me associated with the attackers. I'm the fool who has to go and join them."

"And you're sure the cat is me?" Lestrade asked.

"Your hair is a rather obvious clue, Detective Inspector," Mycroft replied. "Though I must say that it does look quite distinguished."

Sherlock almost growled. "Flirt later, Mycroft. We have to figure out where Moriarty is, where he wants me to come and meet him."

"The obvious, of course, is the Tower of London," Mycroft said, ignoring Sherlock's outburst about flirting. "Yet I doubt that he's going to be so obvious. What other towers do we have within reasonable distance?"

"There is also the White Tower, but again, that's connected with the Tower of London and thus obvious." Sherlock stood and started pacing.

"BT Tower, Tower 42, Broadgate Tower, Heron Tower, Euston Tower, Cromwell Tower, Lauderdale Tower, Shakespeare Tower, Millbank Tower, Aviva Tower, King's Reach Tower."

"King's Reach, that links back to king," Lestrade interrupted Mycroft's recital of buildings.

Sherlock shook his head. "None of those make any sense. Moriarty would have chosen a building that has some sort of meaning to the three of us; John, me, and him. We've never had any sort of connection to any of those buildings."

"The crown jewels are in the Tower of London. You don't think he's going to go after them, do you?"

"Doubtful, but I'll alert the guard just to be safe. Please excuse me for a moment."

Lestrade watched Mycroft leave and then rounded on Sherlock. "Okay, genius, what the hell did you mean when you said he was flirting with me?"

"Later, Lestrade. I need more data." He twisted his phone around in his hand a few times and then opened up the reply feature. "I'll write back and see if he'll send me more. He loves puzzles, you know that. Maybe if I play along with him he'll give me what I need."

"That's dangerous," Lestrade said. "Why can't we just track down John's phone?"

"He had the tracking feature disabled after I used it to find him on a date one night," Sherlock replied. "I needed his help with an experiment."

"Sherlock."

"Save it, I already had my lecture from him. There, let's see what Moriarty makes of that."

"Okay then, if you won't tell me about Mycroft, tell me who this doctor person is you keep referencing."

"That'd be me."

Lestrade looked over and saw a man about equal in height to Sherlock with crazy brown hair and almost insane brown eyes. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Doctor," Sherlock said. He crossed the room and pulled his lover into a hug. "Are they okay?"

"They're sleeping. The old girl will watch them for a day or two and let me know if anything goes wrong. Now, who is this rather fine looking man?" the Doctor asked.

"This is Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade of New Scotland Yard," Sherlock replied. "He's the detective I work with the most on cases. Lestrade, this is my lover, the Doctor."

"Doctor Who?"

"Just Doctor, thanks," the Doctor said. "Yeah, I know, it's unusual, but no one can ever know my real name. Besides, I like how it sounds. Doctor. It just rolls off the tongue, yeah?"

Sherlock smiled. "Of course it does, Doctor. We have a problem. Moriarty has John."

"Tell me everything."

"Excuse me a moment, Lestrade," Sherlock said. He leaned in and pressed his forehead against his lover's, letting the Doctor see all of the information gathered so far. "We're waiting on the second text."

"If we get one. Someone, who shall remain nameless, Mycroft, is a touch out of practice," the Doctor said.

"Quite. The Tower guard has been alerted and will remain on alert until I contact them again. What is your next move, Sherlock?"

"I need a text," Sherlock said. "I need Moriarty to give me more information. Mycroft, why don't you explain things to Lestrade? He looks rather confused."

Lestrade drained the last of his brandy and set the glass down on the table. "I'm just not sure what's going on here, but with the government, I've learned not to ask questions. I'll just sit here until you need me."

Sherlock's phone beeped and he almost dropped it in his haste to get to the message.

To protect his jewel the king would Die
Defy the hordes until the last
All his faith in the Saints he lie
Until the danger at last was past.

"That's a stretch," the Doctor said. "It should be lay not lie, unless of course he's lying to you."

"I know where he is," Sherlock said.

"Where?" Mycroft asked.

"St. Bart's Hospital," Sherlock replied. "I know, there's no tower involved with the hospital, but it's where he and I first met, where he and John met for the second time, and where I spend a great deal of my free time. It's the only logical answer."

"So what now?" the Doctor asked softly.

Sherlock smiled. "I go and get John back."

***

John looked around, taking in the view of the area at night. He'd been to Bart's at night, but never up on the roof before. "What are we doing here, Rich?" he asked. "I thought we were going to see a play."

"We are," Richard replied. He stepped up behind John and wrapped him in a hug. "John, I want you to know how special these two weeks have been for me. Spending time with you, learning everything there is to know about you, has been wonderful."

"Sounds like you're trying to break up with me or something," John said. He turned in the hug so he was facing the man who had become his first boyfriend. "Rich, what's wrong?"

"I really don't want to do this, John. I don't. I wish there was another way to end this evening, but I can't think of one." He leaned in and kissed John softly. "I think I might actually be sorry for the first time in my life."

"Rich, what's wrong? Talk to me and I'll help you figure it out." John flinched when handcuffs clicked around one of his wrists. "What's going on?"

Richard smiled. "I've wanted to see what you look like restrained since our first night together," he said softly. He twisted John's arm around behind his back and secured him to a railing. "You're just as beautiful as I thought you would be. Now, John, will you answer a question for me?"

"Of course."

"Why don't you know who I really am?"

"What do you mean, Rich? I know who you are."

"No you don't. We've met before, met before I bumped into you in the hallway. I wasn't sure what to think when you didn't recognize me and I've been trying to figure it out," Richard said. He stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm going to have to change into something more suitable for the evening. I hope you don't mind."

"I'm not too keen on being restrained like this," John said. "Why didn't you try this on a bed? I wouldn't have minded so much then."

"I wish I had known you like kinky sex, John. We could have had so much more fun than we did. But you're right, in a way. I do have to break up with you. Not because I want to or anything, but because of Sherlock. You see, he hates me and wants me dead."

John blinked a few times. "Why would Sherlock hate you, Rich? He's never even met you before."

"But Sherlock hates anyone who takes you away from him, doesn't he? Isn't that why he's always interrupting your dates and calling you away from your job?" Richard asked. He let his jumper and shirt drop to the roof and pulled a dress shirt out of a bag that had been stashed away in a corner. "John, I don't know how you managed to forget me. I wish I knew the secret because then I could make everyone forget me and I could vanish forever."

"Rich, what are you talking about?"

"Sherlock's going to come and find us, you know," Richard said. "I've already replied back to one of his texts to whet his interest a little. Oh, I bet he's frantic looking for you. Too bad I don't have control over the CCTV network, I would so love to see him freaking out over your disappearance." Suit pants replaced jeans and dress shoes replaced sneakers.

"I'm still not sure what's going on," John said, trying to keep the rising panic he felt out of his voice. He had to go into soldier mode. "When did you get a text from Sherlock?"

"I didn't. You did." He held up a phone. "I took it out of your pocket when you kissed me earlier today. Sherlock's going to work out where we are and then he's going to come and get you." Richard pulled on a suit jacket and started to fix his hair. "I thought about killing you, but I can't. Spending time with you like I have, I think it made you more real in my mind and I can't kill you now. Later, maybe, but I want to have you with me for as long as I possibly can."

"Rich, this isn't funny. Let me go, now," John said.

Richard straightened up, a foreign look on his face. "I'm not Richard Brook, John. At least, not anymore. Not for a long time," he said.

"Then who are you?"

"I'm Jim Moriarty. Hi~"

***

John stared at the man in front of him. "No, you're not. You can't be. I know what Jim Moriarty looks like, he kidnapped me and tried to kill me to get to Sherlock," he said. "You're not him, Rich. You can't be."

"Sure I can, because I am," Jim said. He slid his hands into his pockets and smiled. "You're such a mystery, John. When I saw you for the first time in the hospital, I thought for sure that you were going to attack me, try to restrain me again and get in touch with those idiots at the Yard. When you didn't, when you just smiled at me, I realized there was something going on that I didn't know about, something more to the world than I realized and I wanted to know more. I want the answers, John, and keeping you here like this is the only way I'm going to get them. Isn't that right, Sherlock?"

Sherlock stepped out from behind one of the large brink chimneys and smiled. "Where are your snipers, Jim? I don't believe that you are here all alone, not for something as important as this," he said. "John."

"Sherlock, what is going on?" John demanded.

"More than I can tell you about right now," Sherlock said. "It would seem that Mycroft is more out of practice than he wants to admit to. Tell me something, Jim, why here? Why this place of all the buildings in London? People here know you, you worked here. Didn't you think it would be dangerous to come back here like this?"

"Oh, but Sherlock, aren't you the one who says that people walk around and see only what they want to?" Jim asked with a smile. He sat down close to John and leaned forward, arms resting on his knees. "No one ever linked Jim from IT with Jim the mad bomber, except you, so it was perfectly safe to come back in here as Richard. I just told anyone who asked that I was Jim's twin brother, and he was out of the country on holiday. It worked so well, I wish I had thought of it sooner."

Sherlock sighed. "You know that I'm going to have to kill you, don't you, Jim?" he asked. "Your master is dead, you need to go with him and we'll end this hold you have over us for good."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sherlock, I have no master," Jim replied. "I do what I want when I want and with whomever I want to. How do you think John is going to feel if you kill me? He's spent the past two weeks in my bed, Sherlock. Aren't I lucky? To be the first man ever to touch the famous John Watson. Are you jealous?"

"Not at all," Sherlock said airily. "John's free to sleep with anyone he wants to, I don't have any prior claim to him, other than as my blogger and friend."

"Then why do you always interrupt his dates, Sherlock? Why are you always tearing him away from anyone he wants to get close to?" Jim smiled. "Is it because you can't stand the thought of him admiring anyone other than you? Is that it? Do you crave attention that much?"

"No," Sherlock said. "None of those women are good enough for him. I'm simply trying to save him time."

"Yeah, I think I can make my own choices, thanks, Sherlock," John said. "And, if anyone cares, my hands are going numb. I don't suppose one of you could unlock these cuffs, could you?"

"Doctor?" Sherlock said, not looking away from Jim.

There was a high-pitched buzzing noise and the cuffs fell to the roof. John rubbed his wrists and sat down next to Moriarty. "You're not killing him, Sherlock," he said. "I don't know what's going on, but I know Jim Moriarty, and Rich isn't him."

"John, you're not thinking clearly," Sherlock said. "Just like any other human when they're in love, you think you can change him? Jim is not sane. I don't know how badly his mind is damaged, but he's a murderer. He killed that elderly blind woman simply because she was going to tell me what he sounded like. You berated me for hours on the deaths in that building, how I didn't care about them when I should, and now you're sitting next to their killer and saying he's not guilty of anything?"

Jim laughed and put an arm around John's shoulder. "You should never underestimate love, Sherlock," he said. "Just because you prefer to be alone doesn't mean we all do."

The Doctor stepped out of the shadows and smiled. "Hullo again, Jim. Good to see you, are you sure I can't call you Jimmy?"

"What are you doing here?" Jim asked.

"Oh, you know, just passing through, saw a bunch of people up on a roof, wanted to make sure no one was going to kill themselves," the Doctor said with a smile. "Thought I might offer you a banana if you were hungry."

"You can leave, I don't want or need you here," Jim said. "You give me a headache."

"Do I? Brilliant," the Doctor said. He handed a banana to Sherlock and took another one out of his pocket. "Anyone else hungry? Bananas are good, you know."

"Sherlock, what is he doing here?" John asked.

"The Doctor and I spent the early part of the evening talking with Sebastian Moran," Sherlock replied. "He had some very interesting things to say, including a few about how he was the power behind Moriarty and the web of spies and intelligence he maintains. We had to kill him, in the end, but not for the reasons you seem to be thinking. He wasn't a human, he was a, well, not a monster. What would you call him, Doctor?"

"Power-hungry and delusional," the Doctor said. "He always has been, for as long as I've known him, but it's gotten worse over the years. I don't suppose we have to worry about him anymore, not unless I missed something, and I don't think I did. Still, it's something to watch for. Jimmy here is our last link to him. I hate guns, hate violence, but his mind is too dark to be allowed to live. Who are you planning to kill next, Jimmy-boy? Me or Sherlock?"

"I told you not to call me Jimmy."

"Did you? Sorry, busy life, I tend to forget things," the Doctor said. "Sherlock, you have a red dot on your forehead."

"His snipers are showing their hand," Sherlock said. "I figured I would be the target. Not that it will work this time, Jim. Now, tell John the truth and don't leave anything out."

"I don't have to, John knows the truth," Jim said. "Oh, at the beginning I thought maybe I would be able to kill him when the time came, but I spent too much time with him. He's become real. I've never had anyone do that before." He caught John's hand in his and held it tightly. "I would never be able to hurt him now."

"Killing me would hurt him," Sherlock pointed out. There was a whistle and a bullet pinged onto the rooftop. "Not that you'll be able to kill me, but the point still stands."

Jim stood up and walked over to Sherlock slowly, John trailing slightly behind him. "How did you do that?" he asked. "You should be dead."

"The Doctor and I have a few tricks up our sleeves," Sherlock said. "John, you have to see what's in front of you. You're in danger as long as you stay with him."

"You said it yourself, Sherlock, I like danger," John said. "I won't let you kill him. This is, I don't understand anything you're saying, any of you, but Rich wouldn't hurt me."

"John, please," Sherlock said, holding out a hand.

"No. Come on, Rich, we need to go now before they try and hurt you," John said. He pulled on the other man's hand. "Come on."

Jim turned to John and pulled him into a hug. "I can't," he whispered. "John, I mean it when I say these last weeks with you have been wonderful. You've shown me things that I've never been able to see before, and I'll never forget that. I think that you're the one who was meant to be real to me. The only person on this planet who could be real to me. Thank you for that."

"Rich, what are you talking about?" John asked.

"I can't leave with you. The pressure is getting to be too much, I can feel it building up behind my eyes. It's been building steadily for years, but it's worse since that man over there touched me." Jim kissed John softly and whispered in his ear, too quiet for a human to overhear, but the Time Lords on the roof had much better hearing. "I would take you with me, but you're right; I can't hurt you. Not physically. I wish I didn't have to hurt you at all."

"Rich, no," John said. He tried to pull his boyfriend back away from the edge of the building. "Don't do this. The pressure in your head, I know a doctor who can help you. It's a medical problem, not worth ending your life for. Please, don't do this. Don't leave me here alone, not after everything you've taught me."

Jim looked back at Sherlock and the Doctor. "You're the ones who brought us to this point," he said. "Make sure John doesn't follow me. I don't want him dead. You seem to not be able to die. I wonder if I'm the same?"

The Doctor and Sherlock moved forward at the same time, Sherlock grabbing John around the waist and the Doctor trying to catch Moriarty's hands. He closed his eyes when he missed and turned back to the roof. "Mycroft is there," he said softly.

"Let me go. Sherlock, let me go," John shouted, twisting and writhing, trying to break free of the grip around his waist. "Don't touch me. You killed him. You killed Rich. Let me go."

"Doctor?"

The Doctor caught John's head in his hands. "Sleep, John Watson," he said. "Just sleep, no dreams. Not now. Not until we can figure out what's going on in your head."

***

Next part of Time Lords.