Wordcount: 505
Warnings: spoilers for the second movie
A/N: A Game of Shadows was just fabulous. Definitely did the first movie justice as a sequel. Here's my take on why Sherlock chose to 'fall to his death' at the waterfall, despite Watson's sudden presence which could have potentially saved him.
Three Opponents in a Game of Two
Sherlock pinned Moriarty, the thunder of the waterfall enveloping them both, each breath frozen in his throat. The balcony's railing, covered in a film of ice, and his shoulder, a constant throbbing pain.
And a thousand other details, noticeable, always there, awareness a current running through him like electricity.
And John's eyes, staring.
The choice had been simple – either Moriarty murdered him, going on to add Watson and Mary and countless others to his list of victims, or Sherlock sacrificed himself to bring down his greatest enemy.
It wasn't a choice at all, really. But now the door was open, and Watson stood staring at the two great men, the fish and the fisherman, locked together in the last move of their game.
Simply put, the circumstances had changed. It was now two against one.
And damn if Moriarty hadn't notice. Sherlock felt the slightest quiver in his enemy's arms as the mathematician tensed, recalculating the odds.
John, the man of action, hesitated, waiting for Sherlock's next move.
The detective knows what will happen.
Sherlock pushes forward, landing firmly on the balcony, but off balance. Watson runs toward his friend and aims a punch at Moriarty. With two men on the side of justice, Moriarty cannot win this fight. But revenge isn't about winning.
Moriarty frees his hand as Sherlock stumbles, and violently hits Sherlock's shoulder with a sickening crack. Stunned, the detective's knees hit the ground as Moriarty rushes forward, swinging into Watson's momentum. He catches Watson's punch with the side of his hand, follows through with his famous right hook, takes a kick to the shins, pushes forward and up, one, two, three punches into Watson's leg, and then kneels and rises in a fluid motion, bracing his hands against Watson's chest and side, twisting and shoving the doctor's weight backward.
Watson lets out a hoarse yell as he slips on ice, unable to keep his balance, and topples over the edge to his death.
And Moriarty leaves himself exposed to Sherlock's inevitable retaliation, laughing because he has just dealt Sherlock a mortal blow.
In that moment, eyes locked with John's, Sherlock plays out the possible scenarios again and again – Watson feints his first attack, or Moriarty parries rather than accepts the kick, or Sherlock pushes when he slides down from the ledge. But no matter the variation, each possibility ends with an inevitable conclusion.
Sherlock thinks about his brother's belonging, safely tucked away in an inner pocket of his jacket, and wonders if he'll be conscious after the fall long enough to use it.
And though the circumstances have changed – though now he doesn't have to die – the price of survival is unacceptable. There was never another move to make, only this, a checkmate with his own king. A move impossible in chess, but this game has never been constrained to a mere board and pieces.
His eyes never leaving John's, his grip on Moriarty determined and inescapable, Sherlock silently slides backward into the waiting abyss, toppling both kings as they fall.