Alternate ending to Sherlock on BBC, based off a post on Tumblr.
Moriarty was dead on the ground behind him. Well, he should be dead. There was no doubt in Sherlock's mind that somehow the man was still alive, and that he was going to live after this event was over. Sherlock took one last glance behind him and saw the warm, bright red blood pooling around the body that still laid there. He stared at the body for a second, before he stepped out onto the edge of the building.
Whether or not Moriarty was dead was the last of his worry's right now. Below he could just make out the figure of John looking up at him. His phone began to ring, and he flipped it open with a flick of his wrist, placing the device against his ear.
"I'm a fake, John. No, stay exactly where you are," Sherlock snapped out when John took a couple steps forward. The two were staring at each other, neither wanting to blink in case something happened.
John reached his arm out, and Sherlock couldn't help but extend his arm down as well, fingertips grabbing at thin air. Sherlock had never been one for human contact before, but right now he would give anything to be next to John and to touch the other in some way. John looked so confused, and Sherlock just couldn't explain it to him.
"This is my note. That's what people do right? In these kinds of situations. This phone call is my note." Sherlock had never thought about how he would die, but now having to face death straight in the face, he never thought that he would have to kill himself.
"Goodbye, John."
"Sherlo-"
He threw the phone to the side, ignoring the last word he would ever hear from his friend. The edge of his shoes pointed over the edge of the building, and he curled his toes in them in anticipation. He stared down below at John, who still had his own phone against his ear and looked like he was screaming into it. He was still in the same place though, which gave Sherlock some comfort.
Suddenly, John dropped his phone and ran. Sherlock's eyes widened, and he realized that it was now or never, he had to jump. John was screaming, and Sherlock lifted one foot off the edge to take the step that would save his only friend.
A gunshot stopped him.
John landed hard on the ground, and even from his place high above, Sherlock could see the red beginning to stain his clothes. Sherlock placed his foot back down on the edge of the building, realizing that he had hesitated for to long. John went out of his sight as people began to crowd around him. Sherlock could hear in his mind the other two gunshots that would end the two lives of the last people he had called friends.
No one noticed Sherlock step down from the roof, no one noticed him walk away from the crowd, and no one noticed when he left town. Sherlock Holmes was never heard from again.
