The Mad Detective and The Broken Solider
Chapter 1: The Fall...
On a cool morning in London, a terrible thing was going to occur. You see, this man named Sherlock and his best friend John, were a target to a horrid man named Moriarty and his web of evil men. On this morning, Sherlock knew it was time for his own plan to go down. He wishes there was another way, but there was none. They had snipers on all the people he loved, , Lestrade and even John. He couldn't let them die. They were the only people he cared about and who cared for him. Sherlock snuck out of the apartment that morning and headed to St. Bart's, where he would meet Moriarty. With his signature coat and blue scarf, he walked into the lab where Molly was waiting. Molly was a small, shy, red-headed girl who stuttered and could not speak without pausing. Sherlock looked at her and nodded once to indicate that the plan was in commence. She nodded back and got everything she needed ready. Sherlock climbed the stairs to the roof, where a short man in a sharp looking suit and slicked back black hair was waiting for him. "Well, Well, Well, what do we have here? Sherlock Holmes. You actually showed up!" Moriarty said, his high - pitched voice screeching as he laughed. "Moriarty..." Sherlock said, in a bored, deep tone. "Oh Sherlock, aren't you glad to see me?!" Moriarty said, his black eyes shining and his twisted smile curled. "Let's just get this over with Moriarty." Sherlock said, not pleased with the staling. "Oh, of course Sherlock!" Moriarty yelled. "I want you to leave my friends out of this!" Sherlock yelled. "Three bullets Sherlock. Three gunmen and three targets. Tick - Tock Sherlock!" Moriarty said in a sing song voice. "Get them off of them. They didn't do anything to be involved in this. I will kill you if you harm them." Sherlock said in an angry voice. "Nah. You talk big. Nah. You're ordinary. You're ordinary. You're on the side of the angels." Moriarty said shaking his head. Sherlock grabbed him by the coat and snarled "I may be on their side but don't think for one second that I am one of them." Moriarty laughs and then looks very serious. "No. You're not, I see. You're not ordinary. No. You're me. You're me. Thank you, Sherlock Holmes. Thank you. Bless you. As long as i'm alive you can save your friends. You've got a way out. Well good luck with that." Moriarty said calmly as he put a gun in this mouth and pulled the trigger. Sherlock jumped back before he did it, shocked. He's dead. Sherlock panicked. Rushing to the edge of the roof, he saw John turning the corner, looking around. Sherlock knew it was time. He called John. On the second ring, he answered. "Sherlock where are you? Are you ok?" Sherlock could hear the worry in his voice. "Walk back the way you came." John looked confused. "No Im going in." John said, determination in his voice, trying to cover the worry. "Just. Do as I say and go. Please." Sherlock said annoyed. "No, now where are you?" John said into the phone, getting more upset. "Stop there." John looked around, "Sherlock-" "Okay look up. I'm on the roof." Sherlock saw John turn around and looked frightened. "Oh God, Sherlock-" Sherlock never saw John afraid before. "I- I- I can't come down. So well do it here." John never heard Sherlock stutter before. He was concerned. "What is going on Sherlock?" "An apology. It's all true, John." John looked more confused. "What is all true?" " Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty." John looked upset. "Sherlock, why are you saying this?" " I'm a fake." Sherlock kept his eyes on John the entire time. "Sherlock stop-" John was cut off by Sherlock. "The newspapers were right all along, I want you to tell everyone that I was a fake, anyone that will listen." John was angry now because this was insane! "Ok, Sherlock. Shut up. Shut up. The first time we meet you knew all about my sister, right?" "I researched you. Before we meet I discovered everything to impress you. It's just a trick, all a magic trick." Sherlock was shaking now. "No. Alright, stop it now." John was walking closer to the building. Sherlock stuck out his hand. "No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move." John looked up and backed away, holding his hand out. "Alright." Sherlock was close to tears, the plan coming up to quickly. "Keep your eyes on me, will you do that for me?" John shook his head. "Do what?" "This phone call... It's my note. That's what people do don't they, leave a note?" Sherlock's eyes on John the entire time, keeping him in a special place in his 'Mind Palace'. "Leave a note when? Sherlock?" John a utterly confused now and a bit concerned. "Goodbye, John." Sherlock tossing his phone on the roof. John's eyes widened as he knew what he was going to do. John yelled at the top of his lungs, "No! Don't-" when Sherlock jumped off the roof. John stood stock still as his best friend and love jumped to his death. John ran as fast as he could until he was hit by a biker, John then quickly got up and fell to this knees by Sherlock, checking his pulse. People surrounded him and were telling him he's dead. John felt nothing and then saw darkness overtaking him. When John woke up he was blinded by a bright light. He sat up, looking around the white room, recognizing it as a hospital room. John thought 'Why am i here? What happened?' It then hit him... Sherlock was dead. John shot up only to be pushed down by someone. John looked over to see Mycroft. "I believe it is wise for you to rest, John. You passed out and an ambulance was called." Mycroft said, leaning on his umbrella. "Where's Sherlock?" John said, not wanting to believe that he was dead. "I'm afraid it is true what had happened, Sherlock is dead." Mycroft said solemnly. "I- I- Oh my God, it's true..." John teared up. "There there John, everything will be ok." Mycroft tried to comfort. "Get out." John whispered, angry at Mycroft. "I beg your pardon?" "GET OUT!" John yelled, tears streaming down his face. Just then a nice young nurse walked in with brown hair and light blue scrubs on. "Is everything ok?" She said, looking at John then Mycroft. "Yes, I was just leaving." Mycroft said, walking out of the room. "Is everything ok?" the nurse, her name tag said 'Amy'. "Im ok." John said, his voice lowered and him laying back down. She checked John's vital signs, smiling. "You're free to go, ." "Thank you." John said, getting up when she left. As he was getting dressed in his normal clothes, he realized he couldn't go back to Baker Street. All his and Sherlock's stuff were there. As John was walking down the street, leaving the hospital behind him, he dreaded going back to 221B. When he got to the building, he looked up into the window, where before all this, Sherlock used to stand playing his violin. John walked up the stairs quietly, walking into the now quiet, empty apartment. John walked into his room, laid down and cried. 'This can't be real! He can be dead... Can he?' John's last thoughts as he fell asleep. For the next week, John didn't speak a word to anyone, unless it was vital. Sherlock's funeral is tomorrow and John was scared to go.