Sherlock stood, looking over the edge of the St. Bart's rooftop, his head seeming to be splitting in two, yet nothing could help him out of this. This pain had been around for so long that Sherlock found that there was no forseeable future. It had been going on ever since he had come back from the dead. This feeling of emptiness. Of boredom. Cases seemed to never come, and when they did, they we dull and tedious. John had withdrawn from Sherlock and the cases due to the fact that Mary had died, and Sherlock had found himself turning to drugs to relieve his boredom. The rush was able to satisfy him for only a short while, before he was back to falling into a nother repetitive cycle of boredom. He tried everything he could get his hands on: marijuana, heroin, cocaine, crystal meth, ecstasy, and even LSD, but nothing could help him. That was why he was in this current position. Looming over the edge of the building. It was time. Sherlock pulled out his phone, and dialed the number,waiting.
"What a lovely surprise, Sherlock. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Jim's voice rang out over the phone.
Sherlock smiled softly as he heard the man's voice. "I'm just calling to say goodbye, Jim." Sherlock said quietly.
"Goodbye?" Jim asked.
"I'm bored, Jim. I'm not going to wait any longer for something to come along and entertain me. So I'm saying goodbye."
"That seems awfully sentimental of you." Jim laughed sadly.
"I thought I would show one last act of emotion before I died."
"Then why share it with me?" Jim asked.
"Perhaps because you'll be the only one I will truly miss."
"You won't even miss your little pet?"
"I'll miss him. But not nearly as much as I'll miss you. You were the only one who could keep my boredom at bay."
"I'm flattered, Sherlock." Jim said.
"It's time for me to go now."
"I know, Sherlock. But do me one last favour. Turn around."
Sherlock did as was instructed of him and he frowned slightly. Sherlock slipped the phone back into his pocket. Jim walked closer to him and he looked deeply into Jim's eyes.
"Why are you here?" Sherlock asked.
"I'm not going to let you get selfish, Sherlock." Jim said, eyes showing nothing of his inner emotions.
Sherlock nodded his head and weaved his hand through Jim's, walking over to the edge of the building. Sherlock looked down once more, before turning to look at Jim. They held each other's gaze, seeming to be locked in that moment of time. Jim moved forward slowly, pressing his lips to Sherlock's lightly. Sherlock responded to it, however it seemed so brief a moment before Jim pulled away.
"The murdered do haunt their murders, I believe. I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always-take any form-drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh God! It is unutterable! I cannot live without my soul." Jim whispered.
With that being said, Sherlock and Jim, hand in hand, took the final step to the end. As the hurtled towards the ground, Sherlock let out one last whisper.
"Goodbye."
