"You have to believe it now, I'm a dead man," Sherlock said as he rested his head on his bandaged hand. Not really hurt, a disguise of course.

"I know you Sherlock. I know you would never just jump off like that," John started pacing around, unsure of where to go.

"You saw me jump. Seeing is believing, isn't that the saying?" Sherlock grabbed some dark glasses from his bag and placed them over his eyes.

"I can't believe it, Sherlock! You are…well you. You don't just die. What was the reason?" Watson moved back to the armchair.

"I was depressed, proven a fraud. I told you myself the papers were right. Unfortunately John, you did not know me so well," Sherlock struggled with his bandaged arm to tap into his new phone. He would light a cigarette, but this case was thrilling enough.

"No, no, NO!" Watson screamed to the ceiling, "Don't-don't you dare disappear on me Sherlock Holmes. Not even the cleverest of people could set up all those crimes and have nothing go wrong. They had to be sporadic, otherwise…"

"Otherwise you'd wouldn't be human," John wiped away a few tears.

"Oh John. Caring, it's all you ever do. Caring, caring, caring. You should stop it; it is no advantage. It's what got me killed in the end," Sherlock took out the newspaper and started skimming the headlines, most about him being a suicidal fraud.

"I know you are out there Sherlock, I know it. No one can tell me that you were lying that whole time," John hung his head, "I miss you. I'm lonely all over again."

"Whom are you talking to, dear?" Mrs. Hudson walked into the living room of 221B, some groceries in her hand. At first John couldn't come back to the flat, now he couldn't tear himself away. Mrs. Hudson had taken to doing his errands, but she was nothing if not supportive.

John looked up in shock of her return, "Oh, sorry. Didn't hear you come up."

"Well it's quite alright dear, but who was it you were just talking to?" Mrs. Hudson put the groceries in the kitchen. Watson stood and started rubbing the back of his head, flustered.

"Uh…that was… well no one really, just thinking what I'd say if I saw…well you know. Him." John forced a smile and inspected the groceries. Mrs. Hudson didn't peruse the subject, maybe for the first time in her life.

"So you see John, you told me. Friends protect friends. I have three friends exactly, each so ordinary. I couldn't expect you to fend for yourself," Sherlock looked up from his newspaper, finishing his explanation to John Watson as to why the death was necessary.

A little girl was sitting in the row across Sherlock, a red balloon tied to her wrist "Who were you talking to just now?" the girl asked with innocence.

"John Watson. He was just here a second ago," Sherlock looked around.

"I'm the only one here," the girl replied.

"Molly! Molly, there you are!" a worried looking mother came and grabbed the child by the hand, "Sorry if she was bothering you, sir. We got separated, you see."

"No, no bother at all," Sherlock nodded slightly and walked away briskly as the train made its stop.