( made fore my friend Stiles this is for her. I have this idea however to name the titles after songs written by RED,but we shall see how that goes lol)

I'm sorry Watson, I have to do this." Spoke the male

Across from the young dashing detective his equally with assistant John Watson had caught his partner in an attempt of committing suicide. The two had started off not liking each other. Just like all partnership Sherlock the ever quick tongued lead detective some would deemed eccentric, and Watson yet another quick tongue individual but easily stumped, in the genius of Sherlock. Of course Watson was no dimwit either. He could connect and supply more to Sherlock mad plans and deduction than most. In time the two progressed their relationship into something more from a partners to , the two seemed to be having a rough time with the dis-appearance of Sherlocks arch enemy Moriarty. But even Watson didn't expect Sherlock to be effected this much.

"No you don't Sherlock you have no right nor reason." Watson protested.

Sherlock smiled softly to his significant other. He turned his back to him tower over a ledge of a bridge with cold rushing water underneath it. The wind howled tussling his curly black hair.

"Do you remember the letter I was reading?" He asked suddenly

Watson desperately wanted to pull Sherlock away from the ledge, but knew if he did his time with his lover would be shorten more. When asked about the letter he recalled Sherlock sitting at his desk. Piled with papers and folders of all kinds. He was burning holes through a particular letter. Staring at it intensely. How could Watson forget? He got mad at Sherlock for ignoring him because he was so in tune to the letter. It clicked, it wasn't until after he read the letter Sherlock started to act weird.

"What did that letter say Sherlock. Now that I recalled you started acting weird after reading it."

Sherlock reached into pocket of his long trench coat. He pulled out an envelope. He removed his blue scarf tying it around the letter for wait before tossing it behind his head to Watson. Watson caught the wrapped letter and started to unravel the scarf. When he did he read they note carefully.

Sherlock,

it seems that our time has run out. Our game of madness is done. I write this with all my confessions. I am simply out of resources...

Watson continued on to reading the letter. The note was clearly from Moriarty. It went on with him reminiscing there first game and then some of his best crime and setups for the detective. Towards the end of the letter Watson did not have to read it for Sherlock said it.

"If you wish for a true game, then follow me where men fail to tread, and no one but a thousand condemned can be heard."

"You mean suicide? Your doing this for a game?" Watson snapped angrily.

" I fear you would act like this. In truth I debated on it heavily, but I enjoy the game too much." Sherlock replied.

Watson crumbled up the paper and stormed up to Sherlock pulling the male back and whipping him around. He starred up with flames in his eyes, but Sherlock remind cool and composed.

"You're picking a stupid game of cat and mouse over me and what we have. For something you cannot come back from" he asked in disbelief.

"An ultimate game Watson." He said clearly.

Watson eyes soon stated to puff as tears started to swell in his eyes. This asshole was really picking a stupid game over reached out grabbing his scarf and wrapping it around Watson neck before wiping away a stray tear. He then reached back down holding his hands in his.

" I will find him where he claims to be, and then I will find my way back to you. My ultimate game in all this will be to find my way back to you." He said

Watson didn't have time to respond or fight for him to stay as he soon felt a warm feel on his forehead. One last kiss from Sherlock before throwing himself over the bridge and into the dangerous rushing water.

"SHERLOCK!" Watson cried out.

...

With a loud almost suffocating gasp Watson shot up from his bed. Panting and drenched in a hellish sweat. His hands shaked as he brought his hand to his forehead to wipe the sweat away.

"A-A dream." He muttered to hiself.

He moved out of bed with his feet to the floor. Hanging his head in-between his legs. It had been 4 years to the day since Sherlock's suicide. And the the police never found anything nor a body. They feared his body might've been waterlogged and sunked to the bottom of the river. His heart ached every time Watson thought about it. He jumped once more when he heard a soft moaning sound. Turning to stare back his eyes fell onto a small child with curly blonde hair cuddling an otter wearing a pink night gown with red ribbons going down the front of the gown. His oldest daughter Evelyn was curled up sleeping in his bed. In an unexplained bizarre twist, or maybe the fates wanted to screw with Watson psychosis more after the lost of his lover. Watson soon found himself pregnant with not one but three kids. Two boys and one girl. Watson still jolted by his horrid awakening placed a caring smile on his face. Reaching over to brush his daughters golden locks. Evelyn mumbled and muttered in her sleep before slowly waking up. Bright blue eyes the reminded him of his late lover stared at him with wonder and curiosity.

" Evelyn what are you doing in my bed? You're too old to be doing this." He told her calmly.

Evelyn sat up rubbing her eyes as she clinged to her stuffed otter. Her hair all a frizz in the back.

" I heard you muttering in your sleep mama, and I got worried so me and Otto wanted to come keep you safe. She said.

Watson heart drummed against his chest. Just as any parents would when their kid would say something so cute. He was equally amazed by how fluent she was for a three year old. The other two were as well. For three year olds they were advanced. Thats how he knew right off they were Sherlocks when they were born. He hugged is daughter and then turned to look at the time.

"Well it's time for all of us to get up. How about helping me make breakfast?" He asked Evelyn.

The young blonde grinned happily before running out of her fathers bed to wake up her brother. Running down the hall of their home she called out.

"Hamish! Arthur! Mama say to wake up! And I get to help make breakfast so don't even thing about asking!"

Hearing his young daughters comment brought a smile to Watsons face. He groan softly getting out of bed himself and looking over to his dress. There was a small collage of photos of him and Sherlock. He kept all the photos he could so his kids would always know what their father looked like. As much as it pained him to be reminded of his late lovers face Watson smiled with a deep breath.

"Right, time to begin the day."