A Sherlock fanfiction.
WARNING: Character death.
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. [BBC]
"The thrill of the chase - the blood pumping through your veins. Just the two of us against the world."
Italics: flashback.
Numbness.. Pain.. Sorrow.. Anger..
Nothing was real, and everything hurt.
Glazed over eyes stared down at the figure on the pavement.
Blood. So much blood.
The thrill of the chase.
"Stop right there! You are not getting away! Hurry John!"
"I'm coming!" Footsteps clattered on the pavement as the two detectives chased the one called Moriarty. "Hurry John we're losing him!"
The blood pumping through your veins.
"We're getting closer! He's got nowhere to go." A grin appeared on the taller man's face. John grinned too. This time for sure.
"There he is!", shouted John.
They had reached the end of an alleys, their prey in sight. "We've got you now.", said John. The one called Moriarty turned around, eyes wandering. "Oh that's awfully clever. But I've got one more trick up my sleeve." His voice echoed through the alley.
John's eyes narrowed and Sherlock grinned almost playfully. "Do tell."
But before any sort of explanation was uttered, the trick had been executed.
Bang.
A pained shout, eyes widening, a thud, and then tears.
The one called Moriarty had long vanished.
John dropped to his knees by the now gasping detective.
"John.." He rasped, raising a hand to the man's face.
"Sherlock.." John stammered, tears running down his cheeks.
"You'll be okay. You'll be okay, everything will be just fine."
Sherlock watched the smaller man with seeking eyes, blood gushing out of the wound on his chest.
Blurring vision.
"John.. It's okay.." He whispered.
A stinging pain.
"No.. No Sherlock.."
White edges.
"John, I..
White fading into black.
"No, Sherlock." John pressed his hands on the wound, stopping the blood. But it was too late.
A black void.
Just the two of us against the rest of the world.
But now I am alone.
And eveything hurts.