John was so impossibly tired. Everything seemed dull and lackluster without Sherlock. He had planned this day for months. He knew what to do by now. John silently made his way to St. Barts, avoiding all cameras.

John made the very last call he'd ever make.

"I am so, so sorry. Well, I'm not really, because I want this. Do you know where I am? I'm on the roof of St. Barts. You know where that is. I could blather on and on about this, but that's not why I'm calling. I'm calling for a different reason. This is a note. Isn't that what people do Sherlock? Leave notes? Do you know what this is? Of course you do. You always knew everything. This is the true fall. This is the Reichenbach Fall of Captain John Hamish Watson.

Goodbye Sherlock.