Sherlock sat stoic on the opposite side of a small table to Jim Moriarty. They had both been dead for a few years now, but this was to be their penultimate meeting. Sherlock had spent every waking minute on the trail of every single person who could be involved with Moriarty. Each of them had posed a new threat, but after three years of traveling and hiding and killing, he was finished, save one. In truth Sherlock had known after the roof that Jim had faked it too, he had chosen to ignore that particular fact in favour of chasing down any helping hands. If he didn't have the man power Moriarty was nothing special, he wouldn't be one to get his hands dirty directly. Yet here they were, yet again, together on the roof of hospital. "Fitting, isn't it? You know I like to make a performance out of it all! We have so much history here, don't you agree Sherly?" Jim pursed his lips and leaned forward on his elbows, putting his chin in his hands. "Awfully quiet aren't we? How about a video to get you more vocal hm? I made this one myself, watch it every night before bed" He pulled out a laptop and tilted the screen so both men could watch. "Are you ready? Oh it's so good!"
The screen faded into white and then John was on the small screen, and the slide show began. Photos of their first date, and John smiling and laughing and their first kiss and him staring admiringly up at Sherlock as he deduced at a scene, the slides catalogued most all their time together, and
Sherlock remembered every instance that was frozen on screen, he had pulled them out in his head when he missed John. The next photo was of the fall, and John's face as he watched Sherlock topple over, John being taken home by Mycroft and Lestrade, both in absolute silence, The look of fury and hatred in his eyes as he punched Mycroft in the face. Then it was just John. Lying on the ground of their flat, tears pooling and trickling down his face, him falling asleep with Sherlock's robe clutched in his hands, Sitting in his armchair staring at his hands. "Wait wait wait, my FAVOURITE parts are coming up!" Moriarty chimed gleefully. Sherlock, whose stomach was already threatening to empty itself with guilt and pain and want, dropped entirely. Out of the pocket of the coat he had worn the day of the fall, John produced a velvet box. The next photo was of him sitting at the table, opening it. Inside, a thin band of silver peered out of a cushion bed, and then it was gone, stowed away into John's pocket again as he grabbed his cane and limped out. The final few frames showed John at Sherlock's grave, shivering in the rain. He half smiled before leaving the box at the foot of the stone that marked where he was supposed to be lying. The screen faded once more into black. "Wasn't that just touching? Your pet was very fond of you it seems! We would be sooooo much better together, all that sentimentality was hilarious don't you think?" Confident that Jim couldn't see his face, Sherlock closed his eyes. John had wanted to marry him, was going to ask him if he would stay forever.
"You'd never believe some of the great stuff I got from his therapy sessions honestly it's pure gold!" Sherlock was silent. He didn't want to hear this. "I'll play you some shall I, needn't tell you who's who, it's very clear. Session Twenty seven, He finally decides to speak to that mad woman." 'It's my fault you know' 'what's your fault?' 'That he's dead. I was..' 'You were?' 'I was smothering him I suppose, he couldn't wait to get away, and must've thought that killing himself was the best way. He could have told me he didn't love me. At least he would still be alive.'" Moriarty howled with laughter and wiped his eyes "There's more! Session eighty six, finally admits his feelings!" 'I loved the poor bastard, God I lived in constant awe of him and I loved him more for every insane thing he did... I was going to propose, see? I got it engraved too - Could be dangerous. You won't get that but... He would have.' 'It can be therapeutic to talk to the headstone of loved ones and tell them everything you would have told that person when they were alive. Perhaps you could write out what you would say? Bring it to our next session?' 'I might have to postpone it a bit, it'll be longer than the lord of the rings.' A light click signified the end off that recording.
"You see Sherlock, we play our game of chess, and one of us gets the prize, because the winner gets to take everything" Moriarty called, fiddling with the recording a bit more until he found his place. "For the grand finale, Session ninety four, John reads out his love letter!" 'Dear Sherlock, if you were listening you'd probably mock this, especially because Ella is involved, you were never her biggest fan. She said this might help me, to get over you, feel better or something. I don't believe that much, but I want to tell you a lot, and if this somehow reaches you well it'll be worth the pain of writing this. Because it was painful. I wish that I had told you when you were here, I love you Sherlock Holmes, and I always did. You brought me back to life, saved me in a way I couldn't save you. You said not to make people into heroes, but to me you will always be a hero, because you worked so hard to save everyone and solve it all... The day you jumped was the worst day of my life, and I have had my share of bad days, but nothing could have affected me more than losing you. You were the most human human I have ever known, and no one can ever convince me that you told me a lie. Even though you maybe didn't feel the same, I would have married you Sherlock, because I wanted to be yours until the day I die, still do. I punched Mycroft in the face for us both, I think I did a good job, his face swelled quite nicely. It's funny the things I've grown to miss. The 2am violin, constant texts, biohazards in the fridge, body parts in the food if there was any... Your voice, the swish of your coat, your curls, the small smiles you saved just for me, I even miss how bloody annoying you were. I can say for certain that I don't think I could have asked for a better friend, because you were the best friend I've ever had and I am so grateful that we met. You made me who I always wanted to be, and I can never thank you enough for giving me everything that you did, because to me, you were everything. Love, now and forever, Your John." The recording ended with a soft whir and Sherlock was trembling. You were everything.
"So you see Sherlock, I know I'm going to win, I always do. The question is, what I do with my prize? He'd make a fine pet for me. But you know how I love games...We can settle this easily. Guns on the table." Moriarty dropped his revolver on the table, and Sherlock followed suit, pulling his own gun out and placing it down. "Now switch them and roll the bullets... That's it. Now put it to your head." Sherlock smirked. "Russian roulette." Jim's smile glittered "That's right Sherly, well done!" The barrel of the gun rested snugly against both of their temples. "Pull on three!" Sherlock closed his eyes. "One." The safety clicked off, and Sherlock copied. "Two" His fingers curled around the trigger. "Three" a shot exploded through the air and Jim slumped onto the table, blood spattered across Sherlock. He opened his eyes to find a similarly bloodied John standing alone, smoking browning in his outstretched hands."I'm nobody's prize."