It was cold, and that was a fact. Cold and bleary, the sun seemed to be playing hide and seek behind the thick gray clouds as a sprinkle of snow lightly fell. On a rooftop of a common hospital were two men, one was towering over the other but they both had the same expression of hate on their pale faces.
"Your era of crime ends now." The taller man, known in London as Sherlock Holmes, the man across from him James Moriarty only smirks at him.
"Oh, really?" Moriarty questions as a red dot, red as the blood that shall be spilled tonight lands directly on Sherlock's forehead. Sebastian Moran, Moriarty's right hand man is doing his job exactly as his boss wanted him too.
"I grow rather tired of these little games. Let's spice it up a little!" Moriarty says as he takes out a pistol. The pistol is a dark gray and no bigger than his hand. Sherlock doesn't hesitate to attack and in a matter of seconds, he has Moriarty's arm painfully twisted behind his back. The criminal is forced to drop the pistol and it falls near his feet with a loud clatter. He angrily hisses and struggles to escape from Sherlock's iron hold on him.
Sebastian watches the scene from the scope on his rifle but doesn't shoot. He was not given the signal to fire and does not wish to anger his boss.
"It ends. Now." Sherlock repeats once more as Moriarty proceeds to hiss at him, like some sort of alley cat. The detective rolls his eyes and throws the criminal to the ground.
"How childish. Why is it again that you are my nemesis?" He questions, Moriarty quickly stands as he brushes dirt and loose gravel off his suit.
"Because, Sherlock…" Moriarty begins as he retrieves the pocket pistol from behind his back and grins madly at the detective.
"You just love a good murder." Moriarty finishes and without any sort of warning, places the pistol in his mouth and fires. The echo of the gunshot makes its way over to Sebastian as he freezes up in fear. One of them, either the Angel or the Demon has died. He prays to God that it was the Angel, that claims he isn't on the side of the Angels that has passed. The sniper still cannot help but feel that something has gone, that something dreadful has happened to his boss. Sebastian hastily slings his rifle over his shoulder and begins to make his way over to the rooftop. Sherlock takes a step back, his gray-green eyes filling with fear. Moriarty, the Napoleon of Crime actually did it. The bloody fool did it and now he has to jump. He has to jump in order to protect his partner, Doctor John Watson. Sebastian bursts through the door on that rooftop right as Sherlock jumps over the edge. A feeling of dread has replaced the feeling of tension that was there only moments ago.
"Boss?!" He cries out as to his horror, he spots the body of James Moriarty. To die was an art, and his boss has finally lived up to his name. The criminal is lying quite still on the rooftop, leaking crimson onto the ground and looking at nothing with lifeless mocha eyes. There's screams and shouts from below from where Sherlock landed, but Sebastian doesn't care. His boss, his criminal, his magpie, is dead. The world seems colder and much darker now, now that James Moriarty is missing from it.
"Dammit, Jim" Sebastian says, his voice cracking as he cradles the consulting criminal's head in his lap. He doesn't care that his blood is starting to stain through his camouflaged cargo pants.
"Y-you always had to prove a point. You always had to win…" He continues on as tears begin to fill his bright blue eyes. Moriarty hated to lose, whether it was to Sherlock or a game of Monopoly. A sudden wave of sadness hits the sniper. He'll never play monopoly with him again. He'll never say "Yes boss" to him again, or listen to him rant about how much he despises the Holmes brothers. This all seems like a nightmare, a nightmare that Sebastian is having except unlike his nightmares of war, this one shall never go away.
"I-I…" Sebastian starts as the tears begin to freely fall. He doesn't bother to wipe them away. What's the point?! James Moriarty is dead.
"Kiss me? Usually the Prince kisses the Princess to wake them up" A low voice, tinted with an Irish accent replies as Moriarty sits up. Fake blood is dripping from the back of his head, and he seems to be slightly shaken up but very much alive.
"Well? Are you going to kiss me or not?"
"Y-you…"
"Dead? It was merely an elaborate plan to get Sherlock to jump. I'm not dead though and I don't plan to be for a long, long time" He explains as he leans over and wipes away Sebastian's tears. Sebastian suddenly pulls him close and gives him a bone crushing hug, not daring to let go.
"James, you little shit." Sebastian whimpers into his shoulder, Moriarty pulls away slightly and grins at him.
"I love you too, Tiger" He says and kisses the sniper.
End.