Devil Take The Hindmost

by ArcOfSirius

James Mortiarty is a fictional character. A monster that lurked in the dark-corners of Sherlock's mind. He tried to tell John that leaving was a mistake — that the retired soldier was his lifeboat in the storm — but the other man wouldn't listen to him. Does that mean that the murders that followed their separation weren't his fault, but instead…John's?

(Authors note: This story originally belonged to my last account but due to changing email address I've forgotten the password and can no longer access it. Therefore, I am restarting it on here as per request) Summary: After John leaves Sherlock for another man, the genius seeps back into old habits - Only to form a new persona as 'James Moriarty'

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Sherlock characters such as; Sherlock Holmes, Irene Adler, James Moriarty, John Watson or Mycroft Holmes etc. This fanfiction may also have some disturbing scene's present and is not recommended for those with faint hearts.

Prologue:

Sherlock paced the dimly lit flat in a stressful state, running his long boney fingers through his dark ebony locks as he stared up at the door with frightened eyes - This was the night, the night that everything changed, the night that everything ends and he loses control of his inner demons that constantly whisper in his ear 'Sherlock...'. This was the night that John tells him about the affair.

John arrived at Baker street at eight in the evening, his eyes blood shot and lids drooping heavily over the arctic blue iris's; the long hours at the clinic taking there toll on his body as well as his mind. He needed sleep, however, he hadn't planned on sleeping here - Sebastian, his lover, had planned on picking him up in an hour; giving him just enough time to end his relationship with Sherlock and pack his things. As cold as it sounded, it was a plan that had long since been orchestrated. The doctor sighed as he entered the flat, trying to remain calm as he fumbled to retrieve the keys from the rusted lock; his heart pounding in his chest as he turned, preparing to climb the stairs and enter a new kind of battle field - his heart beat grew louder with every step, resembling the dreaded drums of war that prepared the soldiers for battle. BA-BOOM. BA-BOOM. BA-BOOM.

Reaching the second story slowly, he entered through the kitchen trying to remain silent as he laid eyes on the grim detective. 'He knew...' John thought to himself as he looked arcoss at Sherlock with a glum expression; the raven-haired man sat silently in front of the fireplace, watching the flames devour the small pieces of wood - his pale features darkened by the dim glow of the fire, which only seemed to reveal the his tearstained cheeks that glistened in the poor light. Could he really do this to Sherlock?

"J-John?" He choked out in a raspy tone, his voicing breaking as he spoke the others name. "Is that you?" He enquired in an even softly tone as he shifted in his seat, turning to face the doctor with water eyes; He couldn't help himself, not when it came to John.

"Y-Yes, Sherlock. Its me.." John states sweetly, even though it felt like he had swallowed a bitter pillow as he calmed himself down enough to continue. "Sher - We um..We need to talk" John tried to start, but even he could see that Sherlock was already falling apart. 'He knew. Of course, Sherlock bloody knew. He always knew - He was Sherlock bloody Holmes.' He drew a deep breath feeling unsteady as his hands began shaking; he couldn't do this, could he? 'Just breathe, John and...' He tried to calm himself, eventually succeeding as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 'continue...'

"Sherlock, I don't think we can continue with this - This thing we have between us." He looked down trying to avoid the other mans gaze before he became worked up again; his stomaching dropping as he took several deep breaths to calm himself.

"I think it's time we - we end it. We both know it was doomed to end badly from the beginning. I am just stopping it before we both end up in ruin. You deserve better. You are better. I don't deserve you -" He cut himself off, gaining enough courage to look him in the eyes. "I think it would be best" He paused.

"If - If we...I just pack my thing's and go...Don't you?" 'Oh, god.' He thought. He sounded heartless. How could he do this to Sherlock? Sherlock who had given everything to him. Sherlock who cared for him even though it wasn't in his nature. Sherlock who was alway's loyal and Sherlock who was still madly in love with him.

Sherlock remained still, trying to process the information; he couldn't look at John, looking at the blonde made his chest hurt, it made him weak - he couldn't speak or even breath as he bit his lip, trying to stop the pathetic whimpers that threatened to escape his tightening throat. John was his safety net, but he couldn't hold the doctor back, if this is something he wanted, it was something that he would get. Sherlock had to let him go, he had to let his friend be happy; it was something he had promised himself. He had to say goodbye to his soldier, his blogger, his doctor, his friend and his heart. He was the one that didn't deserve John - He was the monster, the villain and villain's don't get happy endings!

(Authors note: This is only an introductory piece the real first chapter should be uploaded soon. I hope you like it - MistWing221)