"This phone call – it's, er ... it's my note. It's what people do, don't they – leave a note?"
"Leave a note when?"
"Goodbye John"
"No. Don't"
"SHERLOCK!"
~~~~~~~~~~
I was laying limp on the floor, trying to remain still. I had just fallen nine stories from the hospital rooftop and I was still alive. Quite impressive I thought… not many people could say that without having "sky-diving" or the like on their CV. It was all going to plan… John had just got hit by the bike and was recovering from hitting his head. In a moment he would get up and run to me. My people would keep him back but allow him to take my non-existent pulse… and it would be done. I would have fooled him - for a price… my life for his. I hated it - my only friend would believe I was six feet under.
This was it. He was getting up and is about to run while I am forced to stare at him with empty eyes - I couldn't bare it to so I looked the other way. It was all for him… so that I could save his life. So he could live his life.
He was metres from where I lay when a shot rings out across the street. I remained still, trying to place the shot. I heard a scream from someone far away and the paramedics around me suddenly stepped away and stood looking at something. I tried my best to see what had happened – and immediately regretted it. John was on the floor but he hadn't been hit by some other bike… I knew that wouldn't happen. Then the terrible thought flooded my mind…
I ignored the situation I was in, ignored the fake blood that streamed across my face. I got up and ran to him, no one tried to stop me, I started to panic more as a red pool started to collect on the concrete that he was lying lifelessly on I was shouting his name, kneeling by his side… unable to fully register the blood that stained his hair. I was surrounded by people who knew and worked for me, no doubt my brother was watching. And yet I sobbed by his side.
I tried to save John Watson… I failed him instead.