The grass was soft here. The air smelt sweet like the chocolate chip cookies in the small bakery Richard passed on his way to school. Tears were still rolling down his cheeks when he blinked into the sun. He was on top of a hill that was covered in small flowers shaped like tea cups complete with a little handle. They made him smile. He was safe.

If he forgot not to listen he could still hear his dad shouting, but the moon had told him he needed to stay here a little bit more. She was beautiful where she sat to the sun's left. She didn't have a throne or golden hair that glowed like he did, but she was pretty all the same. Her eyes shown like cut gems and her hands seemed to sparkle. He trusted her.

Slowly he got up from where he had been lying. He could see the swans dancing on the river. They were very good at ballet, the Russian cat had taught them. Across the forgetful meadow he could see the twins shooting things out of the air. They'd better not be shooting the rocking horse flies or the bread and butterflies again, the queen had told them they'd get in trouble if they did.

(Many of these sentences in the first three sections here are very short and choppy. I'm not sure if that's your intent with this or not, if it is, they're fine like they are, if not consider adding commas and semicolons instead of periods.)

"How long do I have?" Richard asked the moon who was still smiling down at him. She looked sad and her soft voice sang out that his father was very upset today. That didn't make him sad though, he just jumped straight up and darted across the map.

It seemed so much farther when he looked from above but when he started running the fields and his friends passed him by quickly. His pale blue dress flapped around his ankles and he looked down. He couldn't remember why he wore a dress. He didn't when he was with his daddy. Here he did and he didn't mind. He liked it. He also liked the little black hair tie that went around his head. They made him feel pretty. And, no one was allowed to hit a girl.

"Is Jimmy here yet?" Richard asked as he slowed down to catch his breath. The twins were in (Usually if you use in fact, it means you've stated that they were doing something along these lines previously.) fact shooting the bread and butter flies. They were such naughty things. They wore matching outfits but in different colors. They were called twins but they didn't look the same.

Sebastian wore blue. He had pale eyes that sometimes seemed very sad. He had blond hair that fanned out over his head just like his father's, the sun, did. When he laughed Richard couldn't help but laugh too, but he was Jimmy's. Jim had claimed him the first time he saw him.

Severin was Richie's. Severin was just as pretty. His eyes were darker as was his hair and he looked more like their mother, the moon. He didn't like to laugh but he giggled. It was high and sounded like little bells. He wore green and it helped him blend into the trees so he could scare the lady bugs when they skittered by.

The twins were neither old nor young. They didn't go to school; they didn't seem to need to. They were both tall and short. They were made for Richie and Jim. They were there to protect them. No one ever told them to, they just did.

"He's hiding. He'll be here soon." Sebastian and Severin said at the same time. They had a bad habit of doing that.

The three of them played together. Sometimes Richard would start to cry for no reason but he'd feel like his body was on fire. Severin would pick him up and swing him through the air until he forgot to be sad and came back to them. It was happy here. It was safe here. Jim came some time later; there was no way to tell how time passed when they were here. Clocks had been banned ages ago and everyone played until they fell asleep.

They didn't get to stay long after Jim came. They had time for two games of hop scotch and a late afternoon tea then the moon told them they had to go back. Jim cried, he didn't let anyone know but Richard saw the tears steam down his cheeks. They held each other's hand. Jim wasn't in a dress like his brother was, but just by looking at them people knew who they were. They were two parts of one whole. Ripped apart in the middle and forced to grow up separately. Every second they were apart hurt and only here, in their little wonderland, did they really feel connected again. They loved it here.

They blinked and woke up on the floor. Everything hurt and Jim was bleeding from his head. Richard started to sob but he had to be quiet. They still didn't know where daddy was.

"We can't go back there again." Jim whispered to Richard later after they snuck up the stairs. They didn't dare take a shower but they did find a wash cloth and wet it so they could wipe away the blood. Richard felt like crying again. He knew Jim didn't trust their world but it was the only place he had ever felt safe. It was the only place that didn't hurt.

The kids at school teased him and daddy never fed them. Mommy was always staring blankly at things as if she had forgotten she was alive. Richard just wanted to be hugged by Severin. He wanted his pretty dress and to hear the sweet songs that the bullhorn frogs played.

"Don't make that face bunny. We can't. Please just stay here with me."

That didn't happen though. Of course they went back. It was the only place that was safe when daddy came home one night after dragging mommy back from where ever she had walked off to. She didn't look to see any more. Sometimes they'd find her down by the shore other times she wouldn't leave the front door; she'd just stand there watching how the wind swept the leaves of (I'm not sure if you wanted this to be of, or off, or on. Each will change the direction of the sentence a bit) the tree in their front yard.

He started screaming and Richie was already begging Jim to let him leave. Next he started throwing things. TV remotes, books, shoes, canned soup- anything that could be thrown was hurled at the boys' heads. Again Richie cried to be allowed to leave. It wasn't until daddy took off his belt that Jim told Richie to go.

They were falling; they were used to it though. The first time had been scary and it felt like they had been falling forever. They held each other's hand and Richie was so happy Jim decided to come with him.

The grass was soft here.

Severin and Sebastian took the boys on a picnic. They had missed them so much. They had gone on so many adventures from the tips of the floating mountains to the depths of the echo canyon. They ate small sandwiches on the banks of the icy river. Not named that because it was frozen but rather because the water was sweet tasting like cake icing. Richard loved cake icing.

"You know." Severin started and Sebastian finished. "The Riverman will grant children's wishes." The twins smiled at each other and curled up around each other the way cats did in greetings.

"Who's the Riverman?" Richard asked curiously.

Severin looked at him shocked and the same expression was mimicked on his brother. "You don't know the Riverman?" They asked in unison. "He has dark hair and pale skin and eyes the color of the sky with all the stars lit up in it. He talks in riddles and few people can understand him but he is gentle and loves children. If you send him a boat with a wish he will grant it."

"I don't have a boat."

Severin pulled out a newspaper and smiled. They spent the rest of their time folding boat after boat and sending it down the river. They folded 204 boats and they could see them sailing like a small army (You could use army but navy would be more accurate) fleet all the way to the waterfall where apparently the Riverman lived.

Jim and Sebastian didn't fold any boats. They said there was no need. Still he pulled his brother aside and asked him what he wished for and with a big smile Richard told him he wished to stay here forever.

When they got back home there was blood everywhere, mostly from Richard this time. Jim spent the whole night trying to crudely sew up places where the buckle had spilt their skin. It hurt. Richard wanted Severin. He wanted tea cakes and music. Jim told him he wasn't allowed back. He was never allowed to go back.

Months passed and Jim had kept Richard from going to wonderland. He kept him from falling asleep most nights because he claimed he was afraid tonight was the night they'd be pulled back. When daddy hit them Jim forced Richard to stay there and it hurt. It hurt more than Richard could take. His body ached but his heart hurt more. As the months went on he started crying and it never stopped.

Teachers didn't understand what would make a little boy cry so much. They tried to ask about his mommy and her forgetfulness and Richard just told them that she had gotten lost in the Forgetful Forest and the fog had slipped into her ears. That's why you couldn't go to the forest without ear muffs. They had no clue what to make of that answer and eventually stopped asking.

The beatings got worse. Daddy hated it when Richard screamed; it made him hit him harder to try and get him to shut up. Richard couldn't though. It hurt so badly and he just wanted to go back to Severin. He didn't understand why the Riverman didn't grant his wish. He had been being a good boy and brushed his teeth every night.

One night daddy didn't stop. Jim tried to get him to. He bit him and screamed but his focus was on Richard. He must have gotten tired of the constant sobbing. First he slammed the little boy into the wall. Richard was small, extremely small, even compared to his dad who wasn't an incredibly big man. He crumpled to the floor and kept screaming sorry over and over again. Daddy didn't like it. He grabbed Richard's hair and smashed his nose into the fake linoleum floor until blood gushed out it. It hurt so bad.

"Daddy please…" Richard begged, his sight was hazy and he could have sworn there were two men standing over him. There were. Sebastian and Severin were smiling at him. "Daddy please." His hair was yanked back and his skull was smashed against the tile.

At first the pain was all consuming. He could feel it in his toes to the ends of his hair but then he was falling and that sensation was familiar. He wished he had Jim's hand to hold onto but it was okay. Jim would be with him soon.

Richard couldn't see how Jim fell to the floor in one big heap. Richard couldn't hear how loud Jim screamed when he saw the red blood spread across the floor and up under the stove. He couldn't feel the pain that was taking over Jim's chest. How it felt like everything was being torn out of it and set on fire. Richie wasn't in pain anymore. Severin picked him up and kissed his lips. He was in his pretty dress and Sebastian was smiling at him. They took his hand and led him away from the hill.

Jim knew what had happened. Their wonderland took him. They had granted Richard's wish and took him away. He cursed the world they had found as he scrubbed the blood out of the cracks in the tiles. He vowed never to go back there and his hatred only grew stronger every time he walked through the kitchen and felt like he could still smell the iron tang of his brother's blood. There had been so much of it.

Their teachers never asked where Richard went. Daddy told them that he went to live with his grandpa. That two little boys and a sick mother was too much. They were understanding to a point but they didn't let Jim mope about like he wanted to. He just wanted to cry.

Mommy died a few years later. They buried her in an actual grave. That seemed to lessen daddy's tension and he stopped hitting Jim so much. Now he just ignored him and got drunk then had strange ladies come in and they made strange noises that sounded like dying cats. The teachers let him cry then because someone was dead, but he had no tears left.

It was better though. He had time to himself but that was torture. Sometimes he could hear Richard laughing and he'd turn around to see a mirror. The laughing would get louder, it'd be calling him. Richard sounded so happy, like he hadn't ever grown up. Jim never went to look though. He didn't trust that world. The world that took his Richie away from him.

He started to build walls between him and that world. He did drugs to quiet the laughter and the drugs put him in debt so he found a job. It was gross. He hated it but it worked until Carl told all his friends what a good cock warmer Jim was. Then they thought they could take his merchandise for free. He killed Carl and found a new job.

Computers were a good way to quiet his mind. They went fast and they were simple. It was all black and white. There were no tea cup flowers or bread and butter flies. He was good at them and he used that to hack into people's accounts. Perhaps he could have taken a real job but society owed this to him. Society had made him. They were just as much to blame for taking Richie away as the Riverman was.

Jim had to watch his back. In his small flat he stole enough money for he didn't have any mirrors. (I don't understand what this sentence means...) They could see him through the mirrors. He avoided sleep as much as he could because in his dreams he could see Richie chasing around the bullhorn frogs and he could see Sebastian waving for him to come join them. He was grown now. He didn't talk to flowers or rabbits. He didn't need that world. He hated that world.

Soon the money he was making caught people's attention, people who could get him where he wanted to be, people who could finish building the wall between him and the wonderland that had been following him. They taught him business, they taught him street smarts and in return he killed them. No one missed them and they knew he was grateful.

Jim Moriarty was a king. A red ring(ring or king? What does a ring have to do with anything here?) though he never wore that color. He didn't wear anything bright. His closet consisted of grays, blacks and white. The real colors of the world. He was violent, he was on top, and for the first time in his life he couldn't really hear the laughing. He could breathe and it felt good.

His life was perfect until he saw him. He was smiling wide and playfully on the evening news. His hair was pitch black. His skin was as pale as the first winter snow and his eyes looked like a sky all light up with stars. The Riverman had left wonderland and was looking for him. He wouldn't let him get him. (This is too ambiguous, try, Jim wouldn't let the Riverman take him, or something along those lines.)

The Riverman was getting closer. He took down one of his knights and Jim became afraid. The Riverman's brother, the Iceman was closing in on him, too. He didn't want them to know he knew. He hid. He buried his name and built his wall up higher.

They still got through and managed to take down one of his castles. They were looking for him and he couldn't let them take him the way they took his Richie away. He set up distractions, warnings but the Riverman blew through them all.

When he showed up to the Riverman he acted like he didn't know who he was. (Reword this, if you read it aloud it flows rather awkwardly. Try to be more specific about who or what.) He looked right through him. Jim had even tried to wear childish clothes, he wanted to look young again to see if the man could remember. Either he didn't or didn't seem to. It wasn't until they were alone did he see something click in the man's eyes. Jim Moriarty was going to stay alive though. He was stronger than his brother. He didn't need wonderland.

He walked out, proud that the man couldn't touch him because he knew the Riverman's secret. He had made friends. Jim would take those away. He would punish him for taking away his Richie.

It was months of hard planning, and every step Jim took he looked behind his back, expecting to see the Riverman waiting with two big twins. They were going to steal him away from everything he had made, from everything he cared about; they were going to punish him for not coming with his brother. He was clever now, he could see through their plan.

He set up tests to see if the Riverman was really who he thought he was. They were simple really, children's rhymes and riddles. The Riverman aced all of them. He wasn't even startled by Jim's power. Jim could do anything he wanted now but the Riverman didn't seem to get that. Not even when Jim broke into his own flat and talked to him. But he gave him something, a clue, the final clue.

He turned children against the Riverman, he made people doubt the Riverman's identity just as they should have. The Riverman was a fraud, he was a liar, not some brilliant hero. The Riverman killed innocent little children.

Finally the time came and both the Riverman and Jim knew they couldn't escape their fate. To the top of the Riverman's stronghold Jim climbed and sat in wait; he had been waiting for this moment his entire life. The Riverman came up to him. He could feel him, feel all the happiness he had in his youth when he was chasing butterflies. They had been strange butterflies though. His phone was ringing, he liked the song. It didn't matter who was calling, he was coming here to end it. To end it all.

"Well. Here we are at last. You and me, Sherlock. And our problem. The Final Problem. "Staying Alive". So boring, isn't it? It's just... staying. All my life I've been searching for distractions. And you were the best distraction and now I don't even have you. Because I've beaten you. And you know what? In the end it easy. It was easy. Now I've got to go back to playing with the ordinary people. And it turns out you're ordinary. Just like all of them. Oh well."

Jim stood up and moved to circle the man who had haunted so many of his dreams. He didn't look threatening like this. Defeated, scared. Not threatening, not the child killer he was. Jim smiled and asked, "Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get ya?"

"Richard Brook."

That name didn't sound right coming from the Riverman's lips. Jim didn't like it. His Richie was special. His Richie had been soft and loving. At least the Riverman seemed to remember now. "Nobody seems to get the joke. But you do."

"Of course."

"'Atta boy."

"Rich Brook in German is Reichenbach. The case that made my name."

Jim couldn't help but smile. It had taken a lot of research to pull that off. He found it funny with how stupid his late father had been he had managed to do something right for once. "Just tryin' to have some fun." The Riverman started to tap out the song that Richard used to play during their tea parties by the banks of the stream. "Good. You got that too."

"Beats like digits. Every beat is a one; every rest is a zero. Binary code. That's why all those assassins tried to save my life. It was hidden on me; hidden inside my head – a few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system."

The Riverman, Sherlock, sounded so proud of himself but he couldn't have been more wrong. How could he not see what was going on? Jim had laid it all out for him. He could feel his rage burning in the pit of his stomach and vile stinging the back of his tongue. No. No. No! This was the man he needed.

"But now that it's up here, I can use it to alter all the records. I can kill Rich Brook and bring back Jim Moriarty." Jim turned on him with big eyes and a panic rising under his skin. The Riverman couldn't drag him back; he had run so far away.

"There is no key, DOOFUS!" He screamed, standing on his tip toes to get closer to Sherlock. "Those digits are meaningless. They're utterly meaningless." The face Sherlock gave him put something in Jim's stomach, something nasty that made him want to cry but he wouldn't. He had spent too much time on this. Sherlock was the Riverman. He had to be. He had to. "You don't really think a couple of lines of computer code are going to crash the world around our ears? I'm disappointed."

The man's face didn't change and Jim snarled. He turned on his heel, frustration making his temples ache. "I'm disappointed in you, ordinary Sherlock." This couldn't be happening. He needed his Richie.

"But the rhythm..."

Jim turned and smiled softly. "Partita number one. Thank you, Johann Sebastian Bach. I knew you'd fall for it. That's your weakness – you always want everything to be clever. Was this clever enough for you. I am so much more than a scared little boy! Now, shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you chose a tall building – nice way to do it."

Sherlock's pale eyes sparked with confusion again and Jim felt his heart rate pick up as his lips turned into a devilish grin. "Do it. Do what? Yes, of course. My suicide."

"Yes, yes Sherlock." Jim let the name roll off his tongue like a laugh. He couldn't stop grinning. "Kill yourself. For me. You owe it to me."

Sherlock grabbed him by his jacket and held him over the ledge they had just been looking over. It was a long way down. For a second Jim thought the man was going to drop him and let him fall just the way he had when he was a child. They breathed together, both searching the other's eyes for a clue. "You're insane."

"You're just getting that now?" Jim asked with a giggle, then took a deep breath. The Riverman was scared, it was precious. "Okay, let me give you a little extra incentive. Your friends will die if you don't."

"John."

"Not just John. Everyone." Just like what had happened to him.

"Mrs. Hudson."

"Everyone."

"Lestrade."

"Three bullets. Three gunmen. Three victims. There's no stopping them now." Sherlock pulled Jim back to the stable part of the roof. "Unless my people see you jump. "He looked so angry but then again he probably was. It wasn't easy being beaten by a little boy you once knew. "You can have me arrested, you can torture me. You can do anything you like with me, but nothing is going to prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only three friends in the world will die. Unless—"

"Unless I kill myself and complete your story."

He had caught on, took him long enough. Jim nodded his head and grinned, taking a step into the Riverman's personal space. "You gotta admit, that's sexier."

"And I die in disgrace." Sherlock's eyes were dark, as if the stars had gone out. Jim knew that pain and it was almost attractive when on the face of his foe. He wanted to lick the man's cheek and tell him about how bad it would hurt. He would die or his friends would die, but either way it would hurt.

"That's the point of this." Jim said with as much sass as he could. "Off you pop."

Sherlock took a deep breath, holding it in his chest before letting it go and taking the step up. "I told you how this ends. Go on. Your death is the only thing that's going to call off the killers. I'm certainly not going to do it."

"Would you give me ... one moment, please; one moment of privacy?" Well it was the least Jim could do, but he had to admit that some place deep inside of him didn't like this ending, it was too easy, too simple after years of running and perfect planning. "Please?" Sherlock asked, his voice rough through the distress.

"Of course." Jim started to walk away and allowed a victory smile to creep up on his face. That was until the man started laughing. His laughter was soft, the kind a person made when they realized they knew the answer on the test all along. It was a mix between giving up and desperate hope. It made Jim's stomach drop.

"What?! What is it? What did I miss?" He shouted as he turned back around and watched his monster hop back to the safety of the roof.

"You're not going to do it. So the killers can be called off then. There's a recall code or a word or a number. I don't have to die if I've got you."

Sherlock was circling him, teasing him and looking down on him as if he could see the child he once was. "Oh, you think you can make me stop the order? You think you can make me do that?"

"Yes. So do you."

"Sherlock, your big brother and all the King's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to." He managed to hide his fear with arrogance. Until Sherlock stopped in front of him and stared down.

"Yes, but I'm not my brother, remember? I am you. Prepared to do anything. Prepared to burn. Prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell, I shall not disappoint you."

His voice was sincere, his hands didn't tremble and something felt right with the words he was saying. Because yes, Jim would shake hands with him in hell but he was not going to be the first one to go there. He was not weak like his brother; he didn't need magic men who grant wishes to come take him away when no one else seemed to care. Jim shook his head and smiled. " Nah. You talk big. Nah. You're ordinary. You're on the side of the angels. I'm not one of them, I'm not like my brother. I never have been."

Sherlock seemed confused, but only for a second then his eyes went dark, very dark and Jim could have sworn he'd seen them before. "Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that I am one of them."

Jim could see Richard in the Riverman's eyes. He was playing in the fields of green grass. He was still just a baby, still laughing and smiling. There was no blood running down his vacant face. He wasn't screaming in pain. He waved to Jim; he told him he'd been waiting for him. The two twins appeared behind Sherlock and smiled as well.

It had been a long time since Jim felt like he could breathe easy and perhaps he had never been able to, but when he continued to look up into the Riverman's pale eyes he felt calm wash over him. He felt tired. His chest felt light. He smiled.

"No. You're not. I see. You're not ordinary. No. You're me. You're me. Thank you. Sherlock Holmes. Thank you. Bless you. As long as I'm alive, you can save your friends. You've got a way out. Well good luck with that."

The Riverman still needed to pay. Jim had hurt for too long. Not another word was spoken as Jim yanked out the gun hidden in his trouser pocket and shoved the end into his open mouth then pulled the trigger.