"You do know what happens if you don't leave me alone Sherlock? Do you?" I smiled, stopping in front of him.

"Oh, let me guess, I get killed," he tried to sound bored. But this isn't boring is it? Its fun. And James can tell, under the layers and layers of walls he put up to protect him, he's scared. Sherlock Holmes is scared for his Johnny Boy and he's the one with the rifle, holding it up like it's sacred.

"Kill you?" I scrunched up my face, "No, don't be obvious," I rolled my eyes, "I mean I'm going to kill you anyway, someday. I don't want to rush it though,"

I stared at him straight in the eye, "I'm saving it up for something special, no no no no no, if you don't stop prying." I stopped pacing. "I'll burn you."

I waited for that to sink in for a bit.

"I'll burn, the heart, out of you," I snared at him, watching him hold up his little rifle, his only protection against me.

"I've been reliably informed that I don't have one," Sherlock replied. I nearly laughed at that one. Nearly.

"But we both know that's not quite true," I said, smirking.

He was speechless after that.

I checked my watch. "Well, I'd better be off," I said finally, shrugging my shoulders. "So nice to have a proper chat,"

"What if I was going to shoot you now, right now?" Sherlock quickly said before I started to walk away.

I turned back to him. "Well, you can cherish the look of surprise on my face," I made a surprised look, "cause I would be surprised Sherlock, really I would."

I paused to think about it, "And just a teensy bit…disappointed," I added, scrunching up my face again.

"But you wouldn't be able to cherish it for long, wouldn't you," I leered. That shut him up.

I grinned, because I have won. "Ciao, Sherlock Holmes," I said, going for the door. Sherlock's gun followed me.

"Catch…you…later," he said slowly, so slowly I was already out the door.

I stuck my head back out again. "No you won't!" I sing-a-songed. Then I let go of the door and let it slam shut. Dead shut. Because guess what? I already won.

—

"No you won't!"

As soon as Moriarty left, I threw off John's jacket, quickly unbuckling the bomb still strapped to his body.

"Are you alright?" I asked. "John, are you alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine, I'm fine, Sherlock…" His voice seemed weak and far away. My hands were shaking but I wasn't sure why. I haven't been taking drugs for a long time now.

I slid the jacket across the pool.

"Sherlock!"

"Hm?" I stood there, squeezing my eyes shut, waiting for the blood to stop pumping in my ears.

"Are you okay?"

I turned, distracted. "Me? Yeah fine. I'm fine. Fine," I quickly replied, scratching the back of my head with my gun. I'm missing something, something important. My head felt like a hundred ton of metal was smashed against it.

"That er…thing you did back there…um…you offered to do…um…that was good," I said, struggling to find the words.

The corner of his mouth turned up a bit. "I wished no one saw that," he said softly, resting his head against the wall.

"Mm?"

"You, ripping my clothes off in a darkened pool, people might talk," he said.

I nearly smiled. "Hm, people do that," I said.

John gave a little laugh and moved to stand up. Suddenly, a red dot appeared, following him as he moved.

My blood turned ice cold.

Oh stupid me.

How could I have not seen that?

The snipers are still here.

"Sorry boys, I'm just soo changeable," Moriarty's voice boomed from the speakers. "It is my weakness and my only weakness,"

I could sense the glee in his voice, trapping us here like animals in a cage.

"You can't be allowed to continue," he said, "you just can't."

My eyes instantly went to the bomb. My mind went blank with only one command in it. I thought I would never have this thought before. It didn't hit me until now.

Save John.

I lunged forward, pushing John into the swimming pool. I can sense his bewilderment but it was too late. The sniper's trigger was pushed, the bullet flying into the bomb in less than half a second. I can barely think of anything right now. I was still flying, just a few feet from John. Everything began to go in slow motion.

"Why did you do that?" A voice interrupted my thoughts and I turned to see Mycroft standing next to me, umbrella leaning on his side.

I shook my head, trying to get rid of the ringing sound.

"You could've saved yourself you know, let the others do the work," he said.

I smiled. It was rare and even more rare in front of Mycroft, my sassy older brother. "Because that's what friends do right?" I said, "Save each other,"

I didn't wait to see Mycroft's expression.

The world turned black before I had a chance.

—

I only heard one single word uttered before I was pushed into the waters. "John"

John.

John.

John.

And then the waters enveloped me fully, covering my face, my nose, my mouth. It took me a while to realize I was drowning. Everything went so fast.

I shot up from the water, gasping for breath as rocks and dust rained down around me.

Wait a minute. Rocks and dust? Where are they coming from?

I blinked open my eyes, and looked around. Everywhere I see was destroyed. Reduced to rubble. Nothingness.

Dust, rubble, explosion. Explosion, bomb…bomb…someone pushed me into the pool…who….oh…

"SHERLOCK!" I yelled. No reply.

"Sherlock where are you!" I looked around frantically, searching for anything, anything that might be him. I saw a dark lump floating in the waters, not far from me.

"Sherlock!" I swam to him in large strokes, body shaking from the cold water. The sky was still ink black above me and I squinted in the darkness with only the moon light to lead me.

"Sherlock!" I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close. "Sherlock, please, don't be dead, oh God, please," I slowly dragged him to the bank, his legs trailing behind him. The left side of his entire face was burned, the skin red and raw from the heat.

"Sherlock, oh God, please, Sherlock, respond to me!" I pulled him up and instantly checked his pulse. There was none. "Sherlock please…"

I felt around his thin wrist, searching for anything, anything that might prove him alive. Then, I felt it, just a tiny beat, a beat of life.

"Oh, Sherlock, thank God…" I hugged him close, feeling his still warm skin against mine. Pulling out my phone, I attempted to dial 999.

"Dammit!" I cursed. It was waterlogged and far from even turning on. "Shit…"

Sherlock moaned beside me and his eyebrows knitted together in discomfort.

"Sherlock, stay with me okay. Sherlock dammit Sherlock don't fall sleep I beg you Sherlock Bloody Holmes just stay alive for me okay?"

I hugged him even tighter and rocked him back and forth. The area was in ruins. No signs of communication, telephone, not even a single standing wall. The only way to get help is to drag him out of this place.

"Sherlock, you still there?" I said, nudging him. He gave a soft moan in reply.

"Okay Sherlock, I'm going to carry you to the streets, it might hurt a lot," I said. I did a check for his wounds. Broken ribs, fractured arm, very bad cut on the right side of the abdomen, probably from falling shard of the building, second degree burn on left arm and left side of face… The heat was so intense it burned straight through his suit, with melted bits of cloth stuck here and there.

The only thing that might kill him now is blood loss. As I examined the cut, I realized it was bigger than I thought. A dark shinny shard, presumably glass was still stuck in it, moving up and down at each agonizing breath Sherlock takes.

I slowly began to lift him but as soon as he was one foot off the ground he began to whimper again.

"Sherlock, we have to get you to ER, come on,"

"H'rt's," he moaned.

"Sorry what?"

"Hur'ts, John, it' hur'ts,"

"Yes, I know it hurts, it will stop hurting when we get there okay?"

"John' m' sr'y…"

"No Sherlock, stop it."

"John', please, I'm s'ry,"

"Stop it Sherlock, I said stop it,"

"Pl's John don't…"

I set him back down again. Sherlock twisted himself around so that he was facing me, his left side of the face wet and scarred from the chemicals released by the bomb.

"John…will you…forgive me?" Sherlock said, struggling to speak.

My mind whirred, "Of course I will forgive you Sherlock, I will forgive you for anything. Why?"

"I…forg't to buy…the m'lk," he fought a smile.

I tried to bring laughter up to my face but I just couldn't. Instead, I smiled almost sorrowfully.

Sherlock tried to smile back but was soon overcame by a forced cough, blood spattering all over my cardigan. Broken ribs. But I didn't care. I didn't care about anything at that time.

I pulled Sherlock closer me and half crouched down to hug him. My face was wet and it could've been from the pool water or my tears but I didn't care. All I care about is Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, only one in the world.

"Oh, Sherlock…what can I do without you…" I said, hugging him close to me. My body shook form the giant sobs that overcame my body and I set my jaw to stop myself from crying out loud.

"John…"

I looked up to see Sherlock staring at me with those blue-green eyes, those dagger glaring yet beautiful eyes with all the colors of the universe in it.

"John…" he repeated. "please, just… smile for me."

I exhaled and surpassed a smile, just a small smile, enough for him to see. Sherlock mirrored me, and he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He looked so happy, so peaceful.

I heard sounds of the ambulance and firetrucks nearby, someone must have called the emergency number when they heard the explosion. But I didn't care that time. All I did was hug Sherlock close to me, whispering words, soothing words, words of love, words of kindness. I was not ready to loss him yet.

Sherlock's smile faded by the time they reached us.