Sherlock's final words.

There he was. Up on the roof of a massive building stretching out his arms as though preparing to hug a friend.

" Please Sherlock, don't do this to me!" John's panicked voice spoke through the mobile in Sherlock's hand.
" Oh, John, don't make this harder than it already is," Sherlock answered.

For the first time ever, John heard Sherlock's voice break with emotion and it wasn't hard to know tell rarely seen tears were dripping onto Sherlock's scarf that was fluttering gently in the cold winter breeze. Sherlock's sensitive eyes also saw John's misty blue eyes glint with tears.
" Look at us! Crying over a fraud! How pathetic," laughed Sherlock weakly.
There was a few minutes of silence and then John erupted.
" Don't- wha-what do you mean fraud!" John stumbled back a few steps as he said this.
Sherlock laughed again, but this time, more scornfully.
" John…we both know that I'm a fake! I lied to you. I've been lying to everyone and eventually, the truth always comes out. And now look, it has! Watch me one last time, so I won't look sad,"
John roughly wiped away a tear with his jacket cuff . He saw a singed part on the very edge of the cuff and he remembered how Sherlock almost burnt it with a Bunsen in the kitchen earlier that week. He then stared transfixed at Sherlock.
" No…no, no, no! Sherlock, listen to me, okay? I am here for you and I am your friend. I am your best friend. So many people love and respect you Sherlock. Mrs Hudson, Molly, Lestrade and me…don't leave us all behind. Don't be a selfish friend!"
Sherlock swayed at John's words. For a spilt second, John thought he might have some hope of getting Sherlock off the roof. But then, an almost inaudible whisper came from the sweaty mobile in John's hand:
" I'm sorry John. I'm sorry to everyone…good bye, best friend,"
John watched the mobile descend through the air. His gaze then fell back to Sherlock. And almost as though Sherlock was waiting for the eyes to travel back to him, he flung himself off the building. For a few seconds, John was paralyzed.
" NOOO!"
John ran as fast as he could towards the building and as he hurried to Sherlock, a pair of bikers knocked him over and he wacked his head on the concrete. In a slight daze, he picked himself up and carried on to the building. By the time he was there, Sherlock's body was lying on the ground in a bloody pool. It was blocked by a wall of people. John shoved them out the way mumbling:
" That's my friend…my best friend…let me through…he needs me!"
John saw Sherlock and immediately fell on his knees crying silently. He scrabbled around for Sherlock's wrist and felt his pulse. Only there wasn't one. At that, John flung himself on Sherlock and tried to battle with the paramedics not to touch him. Eventually, they carried Sherlock away. John hadn't recognized every inch of Sherlock's expressions, he was so bloody that his features looked slightly out of place. His once neatly combed hair was matted with blood and his face already bore a few cuts and bruises, not to mention blood and gravel. John tried to get in the ambulance but two young, burly men restrained him and as he saw it drive away. His vision was now covered in tears and he sunk to his knees in defeat and let the blurred neon lights wash over him…