"Goodbye, John" Sherlock said.
John heard the phone go dead, and watched in terror as his best friend plunged from the roof of St. Bart's Hospital. thud. He began running toward the spot Sherlock had landed, "Oh god no" he said as he watched his best friend breathe his last breath. As John was being pushed away from his dying friend, he noticed something else on the rooftop. A smirk on his face, Jim Moriarty waved gleefully at John from above. His throat was stained red, but appeared to be healing fast. John knew he was seeing things. After all, his best friend had just committed suicide. He had to be hallucinating.
[moriarty pov]
God, who knew Sherlock would actually go through with it. I can't believe he didn't see it before, my not dying. If I could die, I could never do the things I do. I suppose Sherlock was never really one to jump to supernatural conclusions, though. He's very much a man of science.
I wasn't always like this. Once, a friend of mine brought me back to life, and since then,I haven't been able to die. It's funny,though, I've died and come back so many times. Each time I seem to lose a bit of my past. I can't even remember who that friend was anymore or why they saved me. I only remember the story I always tell: That a friend of mine saved my life once, and since then I haven't been able to die. It is funny toying with people though. Watching their surprised little faces, "Oh my, how'd you do that?" Hilarious. Like John right now. My throat's closing up from the gunshot wound now and he's probably in doctor mode, thinking he's suffering hallucinations because of paranoia or some other crazy explanation. Silly John, always finding an explanation for things that don't need one.