John stood in silence trying to work out what he should do and listening as Sherlock and Moriarty spoke. He had to do something to save Sherlock even if it meant his death and then he knew what he must do.
Sherlock deserved to live more anyway; he was becoming a good man and would help many others in his life.
In comparison to the highly functioning sociopath, Dr. John Watson was an army doctor and yet still managed to get captured and have a bomb put on him, to use to kill Sherlock. He knew his duty, he had signed up for it and got shot for it, and it was what made him run with Sherlock. He had to protect others, most of the time he didn't know them and they would never know him or even know that he had protected them. But that didn't matter. He didn't do it for the thanks; he did it so he could sleep easy in his bed at night. And it just happened that this time it was his best friend who needed protecting. And damn it, he was going to die in the line of duty.
He only regretted one thing, that he had never plucked up the courage to tell Sherlock the truth.
Moriarty was closer now; a couple more steps and he could put his plan in action.
Now.
And he was on the man's back shouting at Sherlock, "Run, Sherlock, run," but his eyes told the genius something else, 'I love you.'
He could see Sherlock wavering and he could almost see the resolve in his flat mate's eye but John would not allow Sherlock to let him change his mind and so he spoke again, quietly this time but full of emotion.
"Go."
Just one word and he knew that Sherlock understood everything that John had never said and his eyes replied, telling him something that made John's heart leap, 'I love you, too,' before he smiled sadly and turned to walk away.
Moriarty knew that a silent decision had been made but as he could only see one person it didn't help his deductions. However, as Sherlock was walking away he knew that something had gone wrong so he spoke at the retreating back.
"20, 19, 18."
He was annoyed he hadn't thought about this scenario but it was so obvious that he had ignored it.
Plus, it meant the pet had worked out enough to know that the snipers weren't going to shoot Moriarty's only equal – he had underestimated the damn loyal dog.
Sherlock paused and John spoke over the countdown, "Keep annoying Anderson for me."
"Promise," he replied before continuing to walk away.
John smiled and then growled at the monster he was holding onto, "Did you really think I'd allow you to hurt him?"
Sherlock was out of the building by now and the police were coming closer, he could hear them. He stood in a spot he had worked out would not be affected by the bomb and turned around, he could still hear the countdown in his head. '5, 4, 3, 2, 1...'
And right on time.
BOOM!
Sherlock just stood there impassive as Lestrade ran up to him. "Sarah and Molly came to us, where's John?"
Sherlock said nothing but continued to gaze at where the explosion had been and Lestrade followed his gaze and put a hand gently on his shoulder. "You're not allowed to turn down the blanket this time, Sherlock," he squeezed the shoulder gently before turning Sherlock round and walking him to the ambulance.
Anderson and Donavon were waiting for them and Lestrade shook his head sadly, but Sherlock – for once – didn't notice it. He could only think of the look in John's eyes when he looked at him and he knew.
He knew he had lost the person who had meant the most to him, who had taught him to feel and to be human.
He had lost John, and really that was all that could be said. He had lost John and he wouldn't be coming back.
He also knew that those eyes would haunt him for the rest of his life.
His only wish was that they had got to say it out loud instead of through their eyes, he would have loved to have heard John actually say it and he would have loved to say it to the only person he knew he never would.
Because he did love John and now he knew for certain that John had loved him back.