Why did he have to go and do that? It was unintelligent, it was stupid. People tell me that I don't understand the human element to everything, but I understand this. I understand why he did it. He didn't have to though because it cost him his life.
We were stuck at the pool after Moriarty left. I knew something like this was going to happen, actually I had expected it. I was surprised when he strapped John to a bomb. That was what I didn't expect. James Moriarty knew how to get to me. He wouldn't blow us up because I knew that he needed us. I was able to get the bomb off of John and that was when we got stuck. So many possibilities in so little time. I had to figure out what was going on. There were multiple situation that he could have placed us in.
If Moriarty would blow us up, why would he shoot us? This could be a clever hoax, or it could be the real thing. He could be working with others, who were working the guns that were pointed at us. A man like that wouldn't work with others though. He would think they'd slow him down. They most likely did think that, unless he could find people of the same intelligence level as him. Anything was possible with this man. I was at a crossroads.
"What are you thinking?" John asked.
"So many things." I replied, looking up at the balcony in front of us. It was too dark to see if anyone was up there. "Do you see anyone, Watson?" I questioned.
"No" John answered after searching the balcony. "What are you thinking, Holmes?"
"Two things really. It could be a cleverly devised hoax…"
"Or?" John asked.
"Or it could be the real deal. Both seem possible with this man."
There was a click that echoed through the room.
"What was that?" I asked in response, running different probabilities in my mind.
Next thing I knew, I was flying through the air and into the pool. Loud, resonating, shoots went off. I hit the pool head, neck, and shoulder first. I had been disoriented, not knowing what was up and where was down. I hit the bottom of the pool faster than I thought. My shoulder popped on impact. I pushed off the ground as fast as I could. My lungs began to burn for oxygen.
When my head broke through the surface of the water, I gasped for air. I looked around the deck of the pool, trying to figure out where the footsteps I heard were coming from. I also didn't see John on the deck.
"Watson….Watson!" I shouted as I turned around, frantically searching for my colleague.
I had managed to turn around four or five times before I saw a figure laying face down in the water.
"John!" I shouted as I swam toward him.
I hadn't realized that the water around him was turning red. I was more worried about him drowning. I threw him over my shoulder and pushed him safely onto the deck. by the time that I had pushed myself out of the water, John had begun to breath again. It was only then, when the threat of drowning had passed, that I noticed the blood in the water and on the deck. I knew immediately what had transpired.
The clicks were the sound of multiple guns loading at once. John had recognized the sound and knew what was happening. He knocked me into the water as an act of protection. He took a bullet that was meant for me.
"John, you stupid man." I whispered to myself as I searched for the wounds that afflicted John.
I found it easily and pushed down on the multiple bullet wounds in his abdomen. With the other hand, I searched for my phone. I had to call the police. It wasn't in my pockets. I could see it at the bottom of the pool.
"Where's your phone, John?" I asked.
"Pocket." He whispered, his face filled with pain.
"Which pocket?"
"Front left." He whispered once again.
I dug into his left front pocket, which had a bullet hole but no blood. I pulled the phone out. The bullet had been lodged in his phone.
"Damn." I whispered.
Someone had to have heard the shots and called the police. I only prayed that they would respond quickly. I felt my hand being pulled away from John's body. It was John who had moved my hand. I stared at him in confusion.
"I want a warriors death. A death for a solider." He struggled to say.
"You are no longer a solider. You are a civilian." I argued.
"A civilian who will always be a solider." He countered. He skin was turning pale and he breathing became more labored as time went on.
"I'm not going to let you die." I told him, putting a hand back on his wounds.
"You can't control it. I'm a doctor remember. I know exactly what has been hit and I know that I am going to die."
"Warriors are meant to fight."
"Yeah, and warriors are meant to die in battle. There's nothing that you can do."
"Then, you've given up."
"I have not given up. I have accepted my fate."
"Why'd you do it anyways?" I asked.
"You would have done it for me."
"You have no idea how I would have responded. What you did was moronic, it was stupid. It was unintelligent. It was…."
"For love." John interrupted.
"What?" I questioned.
"I did it for love."
"What? Who is it that…" I began to ask, but John seized my head and proceeded to kiss me.
For a moment, I couldn't remember what was happening and I most certainly couldn't explain it. When I had straightened , all I knew was that John had kissed me.
"It's you I love, Sherlock. It's you I took the bullet for." John whispered.
Then his beautiful eyes closed.
I pushed my hand down harder on his wounds.
"John, wake up!" I shouted as I shook him violently.
His eyes fluttered open.
"Why wait till now?" I asked as I took hold of his hand with my free one.
"I was afraid. I wasn't sure if you loved me back."
John's eyes closed and he stopped breathing.
"John….John!" I shouted, trying to wake him.
He wouldn't wake up and I started CPR. The world seemed to disappear around us. Nothing mattered because I had to keep John alive. I wouldn't stop CPR, not even when the paramedics arrived. D.I. Lestrade had to pull me away from John so that the Medics could do there job. He dragged me to a chair and ordered me not to move. I don't know why I complied. I watched as the medics tried ten times to bring John back. I was no use though, I knew that John was dead long ago.
Now looking back, I understood everything. John Watson had taken a bullet for me because he loved me, and he hadn't told me because he was afraid that I didn't love him back. That was a stupid fear though because I knew from the moment that I saw him.
"I love you, John Watson." I whispered as I sat in that chair.
I knew from the moment that I met him that I had loved him. I never told him though because I was afraid that he didn't love me. I knew that we loved each other because something in my chest roared to life when he kissed me. It was then that I, Sherlock Holmes, broke down crying. I was crying for me friend, my secret lover. I cried for moments wasted. I cried for something that could have been.
