CHAPTER 1

((DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BBC SHERLOCK CHARACTERS OR SHOW CONTENT AFFILIATED WITH BBC SHERLOCK! THIS SI MY FIRST SHERLOCK FAN FICTION SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY! TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!))

Sherlock stood on the roof top, cold harsh wind stinging his almost deathly cold skin, clinging to the phone desperately as he heard Johns voice begging him not to jump. Clouds hung low in the sky blotting out the sun almost begging to rain, the streets were mostly clear except for the detective and...his... blogger. It pained him to look down at the concrete knowing their was no other way to save the one and only person he held close. Everything in his life he had done led up to this moment and he felt like a complete screw up. Jim's blood had already pooled and settled, making him look like the angel of death. Tears stung Sherlocks eyes, he should have accounted for this but no he had fallen in love and that blinded him. Now there was only one thing left. He tuned Johns cracked desperate voice back into his ear, "- oh god please Sherlock listen to me!" John called and Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut letting tears roll down his alabaster cheeks.

"John," He breathed and John went silent, "You were a good friend John..." He paused swallowing past the lump in his throat, "And you were always there for me, now I'm going to be here for you this one last time," He breathed.

"No you bloody git don't d-" John began, his tone angry but that was more out of concern than anything but it was quickly cut short by the detectives sudden words.

"I love you John... Goodbye." He said loudly and John began to scream though Sherlock wasn't sure if it was real words or in surprised anger considering he just dropped the phone. He stared down at the pavement and closed his eyes, 'Don't kill him, don't do it. Save John Watson, your blogger, your friend. Your Love.' He told himself and with that he fell. Sherlock Holmes fell hitting the ground no more gracefully than a falling piano as a flurry of Johns screams echoed around the entire city.

The blogger ran across the street shoving the biker out-of-the-way as he threatened to run him over. "Oi!" The biker called angrily shaking a fist at John.

John had no time for the man he ran over as a crowd of people crowded around them and grabbed his best friend, "No! You can't do this to me! Not you!" John begged, the tears hadn't hit yet no now it was just adrenalin as he heard the crunching of the detectives bones from his own grip. Blood now soaking his jumper he held the detective close weeping as he placed his forehead on the other mans. "NO! NO! NOOO!" He screamed tears now stinging his eyes. This was no war this was no combat situation where he could call out and drag Sherlocks body to safety away from the spectacle he would make of his dead self. No this was his own battle and it tore at him ripping what soul Sherlock had built up to shreds. "You're better than this Holmes! What am I going to tell Mycroft?!" He screamed before a woman knelt and tried to take Sherlocks pulse. "Don't you bloody touch him!" John shouted.

'No, leave him alone, he's mine.' The now broken John thought as tears ran down his cheeks, "Please you're better than this... Sherlock?" He whispered his voice hoarse from shouting as he heard police and ambulance sirens in the distance. "Sherlock please... I-I love you too d-don't leave me," He begged before he felt a hand on his shoulder. He whipped his head around to see Greg with his hand grasping his shoulder firmly.

"Come on John..." He said and John only grabbed Sherlock tighter, the sound of cracking bone only accompanied by the breaking of his heart. Greg's eyes were filled with pity and sorrow as he met the soldiers eyes once again. He'd never seen John so broken, not even when he heard him talk about the war, no this was different this was completely soul shattering and not just for John. Greg sighed and grabbed Johns arm only to have him quickly rip away.

"You don't believe he could have done this, no...this isn't him!" John told himself and Greg then tore him away from Sherlocks body gripping his arms tightly, "Listen to me John," He said shaking him slightly, "Sherlock was a brilliant man! But you know bloody well why he did this and you need to let him go!" He said and tears began to stream down Johns cheeks. "Now come on," He said leading John to the car and sat him down in the back seat leaving the door open. "Take a bit to calm down," He whispered and walked over to the EMT's who were removing Sherlocks body from the scene.

He talked with them for a bit and though they were reluctant to give the Detective Inspector what he was asking for they soon gave in as he threatened to get rid of their jobs and they handed it over. "Here..." Greg said quietly as he draped the coat over John.

His heart seemed to stop as the lump in his throat seemed to get bigger. The tears stopped for only the moments he took to grab Sherlocks trench coat and pull it tighter around himself before he covered his mouth and began to sob. He'd always imagined how the coat would feel, why Sherlock loved it so much he never knew, only The Woman knew but that didn't matter anymore he knew. The feel of the warm wool, the smell of cigaret smoke and black tea. Like his Sherlock Holmes.