Jim's suicide from his POV. And I even did some research and people do survive bullet wounds through the mouth if they angle it right. Also, when he fell to the ground, he still had his hand raised and it didn't drop until he actually hit the ground. So, unless it was an unlikely mistake, he was still concious. I WANT MY BABY TO LIVE. Anyway. Spoilers. I wrote this cos I was watching it this morning while I had a horrible headache and I was doped up on painkillers. Shush. On with the story.
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Oh, God. I screwed up, I screwed up.
"-If I've got you."
Sherlock danced around me, his big coat swishing through the air triumphantly. His coat could almost be another entity. I tried to think of something to say, drawing up blanks in the panic hazing through my brain, the only thought was; 'What about Seb?'
"Oh, you think you can make me stop the order, you think you can make me do that?"
My stomach twisted, I felt sick. Fuck.
"Yes. So do you," he walked around me again, behind me.
"Sherlock, your big brother and all the kings horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to," I fought hard to keep my voice from shaking, but that didn't stop my hands.
"Yes, but I'm not my brother, remember." he stood in front of me again, I knew that he could see exactly what I was feeling and I highly doubted that he even cared. I almost stopped listening, "I am you. Prepared to do anything. Prepared to burn. Prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell, I shall not disappoint you."
It was all a bit of a jumble to me, he seemed so tall. Seb's height. It took me everything I had to make sure I didn't shake. "No, you talk big. No… You're ordinary, you're ordinary, you're on the side of the Angels. "
"I may be on the side of the Angels. But don't think for one second that I am one of them."
He looked straight into my eyes. No doubt seeing the grief that I so desperately wanted to hide. I couldn't be weak. I couldn't. I wanted to do something, I wanted to shout at him, scream and cry because now I knew that I would be leaving Seb behind.
"I'll be back later today, I'll assign you to John shall I?"
I would never have said Goodbye. No, stop thinking, he'll see something.
"No," I said, breaking eye contact for a fraction of a second, "You're not," I shut my eyes, forcing tears back and smiling. Hoping that Sherlock will fall for it. "You see," tears started to prickle, "You're not ordinary, no. You're me. You're me! Thank you. Sherlock Holmes," I take his hand in mine, hoping that he didn't notice it shaking, "Thank you, bless you. As long as I'm alive you can save your friends," plan. Plan! I needed a plan. I have a gun. Seb cleaned it out an loaded it this morning. Ok. There was still a way to- no. He wouldn't buy it. Prepare to die. "You've got a way out. Well, good luck with that," I yank one of the guns from the inside of my jacket, set it and bring it up.
Sherlock jumped back from me, pushing my hand away. I was going to keep him close, maybe try and convince him that I was still alive.
By sheer luck, I picked up the gun Seb had loaded with specially made bullets. That much was apparent because I was still concious until I hit the ground, warmth of the blood spreading down my neck and under my head. I convinced Sherlock, I saw him start to panic before my vision cut out and I fell unconscious.
I know it's a bit... impossible. But do you think it could happen? My Jim can't die! D;