While everyone's focus seemed to be set on Pierce's love life, Pierce was too preoccupied with the idea of the second task coming up in the next month.He knew he was going to have to eventually sit down with his father and discuss a few things, but whether the men could actually sit and be civil with one another was a whole other challenge in itself. After leaving a double Potions class, Pierce was instructed in a letter to meet up with his father and John on the castle grounds near the courtyard. Since his mother's banishment from the castle, Sherlock seemed to enjoy the freedom of being allowed on castle grounds and being able to rub it in Rita's face.

Pierce had arrived in the courtyard after telling Julius he would catch up with him later,to find that his father and John weren't there.

He glanced around in confusion as his father was not one to be late when he was grabbed by the back of his robes.

Irritated that he was touched by an unknown person, Pierce smacked the hand away instantly.

"Oooh someone appears to be in a bad mood." 

Pierce turned around to see Moriarty behind him.

"What are...don't touch me." Pierce told him. "I don't like-"

"Being touched. Yes, yes, so the entire world has heard." Moriarty said with an eye roll.

Brushing his robes off, Pierce glared at the man. "What do you want? Shouldn't you be bothering my father with your presence, instead of me?"

"Haven't seen him today...yet. But anyways, that's not very polite Pierce, didn't you father teach you any manners. I suppose not though, thinking about it, he doesn't play much of a role in your life, does he?"

"What are you trying to get at?" Pierce growled, wishing he looked over the letter carefully to pick up on the differences in handwriting.

"You're the one who brought me here, Piercy boy."

"I did it, to get my father here. I'm not in need of your services!" Pierce snapped.

"Is that so? Has your father gotten any closer to establishing who it was that put your name in the Goblet?"

Pierce remained silent but it answered Moriarty's question right away.

"Perhaps you could use a little help. Would you like a hint of who put your name in the Goblet, Pierce?"

Pierce glanced up at him in shock, a hint of fear in his expression unsure of what the crazed man before him was truly capable of.

"You know who it was? Who put my name in the Goblet?" Pierce questioned him.

"I might."

"I'm not in the mood to play your stupid little mind games with you. I'm not my father! I will not waste my time on the likes of someone like you!"

"You're beginning to sound like John...at least your father keeps his composure."

"That's a good thing, I aspire to be like John." Pierce said. "Now tell me the hint or leave. I'm sure the school won't take kindly to hearing about you harassing students in the courtyard."

"Well if you're going to behave like that, then I won't tell you." he said.

"Fine, I don't care." Pierce going to leave but he was grabbed again by the man and pulled back straight into Moriarty.

"Don't-"

"Your first hint is the letter B." Moriarty whispered in the boy's ear before shoving Pierce forward and leaving the courtyard swiftly.

Pierce nearly tripped over his feet before balancing himself out. He stood up to curse Moriarty's name but the man was gone.

"B?" he repeated.

"B...the letter B? That's the information you've gathered from him." Sherlock sighed in discontent at his son's news.

"Yeah, and where's any of the information you've gathered?" Pierce said.

"Stop it." John said. "Look Pierce got what information Moriarty was willing to reveal, that's a good first step."

"Oh stop being so damn optimistic." Sherlock groaned at the man. "The letter be could very well mean bogey or bollocks in Moriarty's mind. He's twisted, it very well may not be a clue to who put Piece's name in the goblet."

"But it very well could be!" Pierce argued. "Perhaps he believed you would react like this. You think that because you're a self-proclaimed know it all that no one could possible offer you any information that you didn't already know! Bring yourself down from your high horse for a moment and realize that you don't know everything! But then again, maybe you don't want to know everything. Are you counting on my death, Father? Maybe it was you who put my name in the Goblet! It would make everything so much easier on your life, wouldn't it?"

Pierce didn't wait for his father's response before up and leaving the pub as people stared on.

Before John could stop Sherlock from going after the boy, the father picked himself up and followed Pierce's direction.

"Oh dear...we can never have a nice meal."

For what felt like the hundredth time that day, Pierce was grabbed but this time he put up a fight shoving his father back.

"Don't touch me!"

"Then stop acting like a child-"

"I am a child! You git!" Pierce yelled at his father. "It doesn't change because you say so. I am a child, your child, sadly."

"Why must you always say things like that?"

"Because it's true, you don't want me to be your child. You don't want one to begin with-"

"That's not true!"

"Then why do you treat me like I'm some kind of burden to you?" 

Sherlock stared at the boy across from him before looking away for a moment.

It was quiet for a short while before Sherlock finally took the initiative to speak first to his son.

"Do you know how some people struggle to face themselves in the mirror?" he asked.

Pierce looked at him. "Wha..."

"Some people cannot bring themselves to look in the mirror because they are afraid of who is going to look back at them."

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"Because you are like a mirror of myself, many say that you look like me and sound like me... except when I look at you, I don't see myself...I don't hear myself ...I see and hear what I could have been."

"I'm not sure how to take that." Pierce admitted.

"Take it as you wish."

"See, there you go again! Why do you always have to speak in some sort of stupid code! Why can't you just be straight forward?!"

"Fine, you want straight forward?" Sherlock took a step towards the boy, miffed at the argument they were having. "Here's straight forward for you, you are my son, and I do care for you. I would never wish death upon you, because I love you. I may not show it in the best of ways or at all, but that is the truth. How does that work for you?"