Semi-companion piece to When a Good Man Goes to War. Sherlock's POV.
The Reichenbach Fall's Coda
Friends protect people.
John's words. So very true they were.
Sherlock had known what had to be done the moment that Moriarty revealed his hand though had still hoped he wouldn't have to go through with it, that he wouldn't subject John to it, to his death. He wished they'd had more time. Eighteen wonderful, fleeting, whirlwind months. Despite the fact that not meeting John would have made his life infinitely simpler that was one thing he couldn't regret. John had made life worth living, put up with him and even truly cared for him in a way that Sherlock had been sure was impossible for someone such as he to have.
Sherlock was neither blind nor oblivious to John's feeling, despite the fact that John himself seemed to be very much in denial about them. That was why he hated himself for what he had to do to save him, to save everyone that mattered to him.
Meek little Molly with a heart of gold, so much more observant than Sherlock had given her credit for, far too loyal to one such as him. It shouldn't have shocked him, her tenacity where he was concerned. She'd readily agreed, but she hadn't liked it, had asked about John. Under no circumstances could John know, not until it was safe, maybe not ever, he'd said. Molly had looked at him with such understanding and pity then, recognizing his actions for what they were. Far too observant she was now that Sherlock knew the signs.
John's face, his shout when Sherlock had taken that step broke his heart, but it was worth it. It had to be because the alternative was unthinkable. It was the ultimate act of selfishness and sacrifice. John was so much stronger than him. He'd survive Sherlock's death. However, Sherlock knew that he wouldn't survive John's.
At least this way, Sherlock knew John was safe. Even if he couldn't be with him ever again, it was better than seeing him dead. Or so he convinced himself while watching John stand over his grave. He wanted nothing more than to cover the distance between them, to let John know that he was alive, but the danger had not passed. Moriarty's ties ran deep, his web encompassing the entire globe. And Sherlock was going to destroy it piece by piece. Sherlock just hoped that John would be able to forgive him if he ever got the miracle he hoped for.
Sherlock had seen in Moriarty what he likely would have become without John. Unknowingly, bit by bit, he'd saved him, and it was Sherlock's turn to return the favor no matter the cost.
