"Back off."
My hands start to lose their steady stance but I refuse to let my tired arms fall. Both John and I's lives depend on this. I almost don't want to blink in case something happens. I wouldn't put it passed Moriarty to disappear like the coward he is.
"Although I have loved this," Jim starts walking towards me and I fight the urge to step back. "This little game of ours." John shakes his head, he knows he can't do anything; neither of us really can.
"Playing Jim from IT," Moriarty says raising his shoulders to his ears. "Playing gay." Funny how he can go from a face full of mockery to an expression so blank you'd think he was fake. "Did you like the little trick with the underwear?"
"People have died," I say trying to replicate his face.
"That's what people DO!" Though I don't show it in my posture, his outburst startled me. I fight a smile about to break loose on my face.
"I will stop you." I have to, I always do; I'm Sherlock Holmes.
Jim shakes his blank face. "No, you won't," his voice is at a higher pitch than before. What is it? Fear? Excitement? Anticipation?
I look over at John. His face is dark and lines are more prominent on his face than usual. He's slouched over but shows no sign of anxiety. Interesting, usually people are more subjective to fear when a bomb is strapped to their chest.
"Are you alright?" I ask. I know the answer, but it's more of a test of what Moriarty will do.
Jim walks up to John and speaks in his ear loud enough for me to hear. "You can talk Johnny boy." John flinches away from Moriarty, not in fear but anger. He knows that if he lashes out then the sniper will put a bullet through the bomb. "Go ahead."
I keep my gun pointed at Jim. John nods, that's enough for me. I reach into my pocket and take out the hard drive holding it out at arm's length. "Take it."
Jim looks at it intrigued and takes it from my hand. "Oh, that? The missile plans." Then he presses his lips to the cool metal of the drive, I can vaguely see him shiver from the unwanted cold.
"Boring!" Moriarty chants. "I could have gotten them from anywhere." Then he throws the drive into the pool giving John the opportune moment to strike.
John runs up to Jim and wraps his arms around his shoulder and side from behind. I take a step back and debate whether to lower my gun or not. I don't want to shoot John, but I don't want Moriarty to hurt him.
"Sherlock, run!" John yells. I shuffle my feet aimlessly as I try to decide what to do. If I run John will be alone with a psychopath, he's used to the behaviour but this is different.
"Good!" Jim laughs. "Very good!"
"If the sniper pulls that trigger, Mr. Moriarty, then we both go up." It was a good plan John, but I have a feeling Jim saw it coming.
"Isn't he sweet? I can see why you like having him around. But then people do get so sentimental about their pets." Jim says not even trying to fight off John. "They're so touchingly loyal, but OOPS!" he yells. "You've rather shown your hand there, Dr. Watson."
I see John's face fill with shock after he looks and then backs away. Yes, he saw it coming. I'm guessing Jim has a sniper on me now. I don't care, we need to get out of here. At least John has to get out alive.
I drop my gun making a large clatter and I run over to John. I stand pretty close to him and calculate which wires to pull. Jim doesn't try to stop me. If I pull the third wire from the right on each side it'll disarm the bomb.
A loud bang sounds from the distance and I feel a searing pain through my mid back. I stumble a bit but regain my balance and rip the correct wires disarming the bomb. Another bang comes from the right and I almost fall over from a blow to my ribs.
John just stares surprised at me and too frozen in shock to move. Ignoring the pain, I grab the sides of his vest and coat; then rip them down and to the side successfully getting it away from John. Then I throw it into the pool.
Two more shots fire but I'm too disoriented to know the location, all I feel is pain. Red hot pain and it just increases. My ears ring so loud that it blocks out any other sound in the room. My legs give out and I fall to the ground but don't connect, I guess John caught me. I get turned around and face the ceiling.
Moriarty is probably far gone by now. His demonic face haunts my vision if I try to close my eyes. I know I should stay awake but I'm just so tired. John's hand taps me lightly on the face making it turn to the left.
I stare at the door, what I wouldn't give to walk out of there right now. I'll probably never come back to this pool again, not unless I need to. If there's an interesting case here I'll come but other than that I'll avoid it like the plague.
My hearing starts to come back into focus and I hear John's frantic muffled voice. I turn my stiff neck up and look at him. His face is painted with worry. One of his hands is pressed to my leg and the other is clutching a phone.
I slowly move my hand to my aching side. I touch something wet and warm, for a minute I think its pool water but then I notice that the ground is covered in red. I look at my hand and it has the same substance dripping from my fingertips. Blood.
I try to sit up but my back explodes in pain. John gently pushes me down only making the pain worse, "stay down Sherlock." I guess I have my hearing back. I can tell he's trying to hide the fear in his voice but it's shaking too hard to go unnoticed.
John puts his phone down and looks at me with sympathy. "Ambulance will be here soon Sherlock, hang in there."
"I d-don't need an a-ambulance," I say in a choked voice. It almost doesn't sound like me; whoever it is their very weak and hoarse.
"You've been shot." I notice John start to shake, is he cold?
"I'm f-fine." My eyes start to close.
"No no no no no Sherlock," John says not trying to hide the fear and starts tapping me on the face. "Come on, stay with me."
I can't help it. I'm trying; really, I am. I'm trying to stay awake, but it's hard. I'm so cold that it scares me. I didn't think it was possible to feel like this and still be alive. Then it hits me, I don't know why it took this long; I'm dying.
I don't want to die. Over and over in my head. I'm not ready to die, not yet. I don't want to leave, not now.
My thoughts start to slow and I force my eyes open. I look over at John. Though my visions blurry, there's an unmistakable glare in the form of lines running down John's cheeks. Which can only mean one thing, John's crying.
I don't want that. I don't want to make John cry. He shouldn't be, not over me. I wish I could say something but I can barely move my lips.
Tears slip out of my eyes that I didn't even know formed. The warmth burns my icy skin, I wish it would stop. I wish this would all stop. The dying, the pain, the sadness; I have a feeling my wish will come true soon enough.
I look up at John one last time, I hope he can see it in my face; that I'm sorry. I don't want to leave him, but I have no choice. I'll miss him, I wonder if he'll feel the same. Probably not, no one ever cares about me. No one will miss me, they'll miss my brain and how I solve cases. That's what they'll miss.
My vision starts to get brighter. I would hyperventilate if my breathing wasn't so slow. I feel so numb, I can't feel pain anymore. Everything is so bright, too bright. I can't even see John's face anymore, even though my eyes are open.
I let my body relax, it feels nice. I don't care, there's nothing I can do now. I'm already gone. My brain is in a fog, only one thought runs across it…
Goodbye John