Come and play.
Bart's Hospital Rooftop.
I'll be the one in Blue.
-JW
P.S.
Included one possibly damned soul.
-JW
John had hoped that Sherlock would not notice the fabricated argument. He was angry and fearful, which helped the honesty of his emotions enrich the lie.
"You...friends protect you Sherlock. Damn this. You can be so bloody...It's Mrs. Hudson..."
"I am aware John. I am also busy."
He knew this was the line of defence that Sherlock would throw up. He would do anything to move John away from the meeting he believed he was going to have with Moriarty within the early morning hour. Dawn. It was poetic. To have the light chase the darkness of all the pervasive lies away. The problem was, Sherlock had missed a variable in his equation, one Cpt. John H. Watson.
Sherlock's mobile chimed as John was about to begin again. He had to get the words out, before he answered. Had to make the impact so he would leave and go to Mrs. Hudson's aide. Mycroft, right on time. He hated going to him for help but he knew the elder Holmes would do anything to keep his brother safe. Between Greg and Mycroft he hoped the two men would be there when he no longer could be.
"You machine...you know...sod this. She is dying SHerlock. You had better catch the very next cab behind me or so help me...I'll never forgive you this."
"I never said I was on your side John...I'm no angel."
Those were the last words John heard from Sherlock's lips. John just hoped that his life was penance enough for the lunatic. Moriarty was always keen to kill John, and here he was offering himself up with no strings. He knew Moriarty was listening as well as monitoring the situation to some degree and would know if something was being withheld. John found himself praying, for the second time that night, that he never knew the connection between him and Stamford.
For now, at any rate, he hoped that Sherlock had left. There will be a later...a soon inevitable conversation to be had. John thought as he quickly darted to the right towards Stamford's office. He refused to involve Molly in this as she had never quite warmed to John due to her feelings toward Sherlock. It wasn't that John did not think she would be professional, but he did not want to involve her for intuitive reasons. It just felt wrong so he went to Stamford instead.
John turned yet again into the darkened corridor, he swiftly unlocked Stamford's office turning on the light as he entered before gauging the room as he re-locked it. Smiling tersely at his oldest friend they both had the look of all-business. Just then John's throw away vibrated twice letting him know Sherlock had indeed caught a cab and was heading toward Baker Street.
"That's it then, Mike. We don't have much time do we?"
"John, are you sure?"
"Look, we've been over this. It has to be done."
"This is just so complicated John. I know we've pulled some stunts in our time, but this still could be fatal for a myriad of possibilities."
"We have to do this. He is so much more important than I in this. Mike...I have to do this, yea?"
"Alright, chuck your coat and jumper. Roll your sleeves. Bloody hell...John. Let's do this then."
As John peeled off his layers, he pulled out the throw-away mobile and contacted his point man for the Irregulars.
"Raz, code beta. Got it?"
"Sure Doc, mobilizing. G.B. sighted."
"Thank you, Raz. For everything."
"See you on the other side Doc."
With that, John disconnected and pulled himself together internally. The Irregulars were fiercely loyal to Sherlock and many had built up the same level with John due to his deep compassion and his relationship with the man they all cared for.
They would watch him, let John know if things were off. Make sure Sherlock believed things were going the way he wanted until it was too late to stop John. Hopefully the small contingency would be here soon as well.
"Should I pray for a miracle Mike?"
"That's all I have been doing since last night mate."
"He had a squash ball with him you know, Sherlock, that is. Was playing with it bouncing it against one of the tables when I went into the lab. Made me think he had figured out what I was up too."
"Well I haven't told a soul. Just you and I in on this. Molly's out for the day so she won't even know until she gets back on Monday. Well, unless she turns on the telly at her sister's, but she won't be here for the worst of it I suppose."
"Mycroft had the double delivered?"
"He's waiting for his grand entrance."
"This is going to be near impossible. Has to be entirely believable..."
"Just keep relaxed as possible for the next bit while I finish yea?"
"Yea, sorry."
As prepared as he could be, he headed up toward the roof. Stamford was on his way to the E.R. for a little chatting up and coffee. Then to grab Nancy and their provisions once Sherlock was seen heading back on campus. John knew that the letter and mini iPod were safely ensconced in the envelope waiting for Sherlock. He hoped Sherlock would find one of the three left by that evening.
Even Mycroft had a copy, just incase something had happened to the other's John had left. One under John's pillow, one in Sherlock's violin case, one here in the lab. Mycroft had the master copy, John's will, and USB with all that had been recorded for Sherlock to find.
'Onward and upward...' John thought. "Please let this go as planned. Please spare Sherlock...'
All that was left was one fleeting step after exchanging his life for Sherlock's. There was never a question that he wouldn't do this for him. It was obvious, which is why Sherlock never saw it coming. It was in plain sight, but so much had occurred...it had been so frenetic he had hope beyond hope that at least Sherlock would survive this day.
The sun rise looked beautiful coming over London. He was thankful for this. They were sharing one last sunrise even though John had the better vantage point. Sherlock would be arriving shortly to their flat, find Mrs. Hudson fine after checking her flat over. Then his mobile would chime with a text from him. He would be back at Bart's at a much faster rate as Mycroft would make sure his brother had no traffic stopping him. Sherlock would tell him to do so and never know until later that it was planned in this manner.
Moriarty was waiting for him of course. He always had been the dramatist.
"Good morning, Jim." John greeted the thin man that was sitting on the ledge of the roof he would soon pitch off of.
"Morning Sunshine!" Jim replied, mirth deep and resounding. "Hope there's a spring in your step this morning!"
"Oh, I'm quite certain of it..."
"Well you always have been so devoted. I must admit this was a bit of a twist though. Resourceful even. It will make it so much easier to console him you know?"
"Well, let's see about that shall we? I'm pretty sure it's none of your business how he mourns."
"Well you'll be dead John. Thank you for this by the way, re-balancing the scales. You should have died already. Pets never outlive their Masters don't you know? So technically it won't be any of your business either."
Moriarty was twirling around him now, taunting him. It was no less than John imagined. He smiled tight-lipped and mercilessly at the younger man.
"Must kill you that he loves me though...doesn't it? That's why you did all of this business, making him look like a fraud. Knowing that I was able to love him first? I should thank you by the way. It was your stunt with the that blessed me with his first kiss."
"Oh, but Irene got everything else didn't she John?"
"No, she didn't. I was still his first. Does that burn you Jim? I was the first and only to be able to love him. He'll never let you near him."
"Oh Johnny, how quickly you forget. I've been to your flat twice now since this little debacle began...he welcomed me quite graciously. I played him my version of "Partita Number One." Seems like he's been tapping it ever since. Liked my little gift. You popping off into oblivion only releases him from his silly little ideas of first loves and tentative kisses. I'll give him as good as he can give, just you watch...Oh wait! You won't be able too!"
Their little dance had brought them close to the edge. Enough that John could look over and see the Irregulars starting to place themselves. Thank goodness he had them choose who to come today, there was only one John recognised. Jenny. She was here most days they were, so it wouldn't seem odd for her to be there now. Good. Then he felt his mobile vibrate in his pocket;
hearing the soft muffled movement Moriarty smiled beatifically.
"Ah. Here we are at last – you and me and Sherlock. Our problem – the final problem for you."
"May I have a moment, please?"
John takes a moment to look at his mobile.
John, no.
-SH
S-
Fifty-Seven
-JW
"Yes," Moriarty looks over John's shoulder, "you want to send a farewell. Might as well Johnny-boy seeing as how I'll be the one kissing him over your cold-grave. Make it a good one yea? He loves the dramatic..."
"Yes, like you stealing the crown jewels? Crashing the banks to give him a merry chase?"
"Daylight robbery. All it takes is some willing participants. All dead now of course, wouldn't want anyone to talk..." Moriarty sings glibly. "Glad you chose a tall building. Nice touch. Bit poetic as this is where you two met...but Romeo, don't think for one second I'll let you Juliette follow any time soon. Besides, like he'd end his life over a trivial thing such as you anyway."
"No, he'll go on. And defeat you."
"Of course. I'm sure he will pet. Looks like you have an audience gathering, off you pop!"
As Moriarty begins to walk a safe distance away John begins to chuckle.
"What? Gone mad at the last moment?"
John continues to chuckle, but creeping into it is a frosty edge that hasn't graced his lips since Afghanistan. He had Moriarty and he knew it; it was quite possible he wouldn't have to jump after all.
"What is it?!" Moriarty roared at him.
"I don't have to jump if I've got you..." John sing-songs mocking the younger man's tone from earlier.
"You think you can make me stop the order? You think you can make me do that?"
"Yes, I believe I can." John pulled his gun aiming point blank towards Moriarty. He clearly had the advantage and was going to take it.
"Naah. You talk big. Naah. You're ordinary – you're on the side of the angels."
"Maybe I am, but don't mistake me for one anymore. You may never knew this, but I was the one that killed Jefferson Hope that night. I had only known Sherlock for less than forty-eight hours at that point. I killed a man to save him even back then. Imagine what I am willing to do now."
Moriarty takes a hard look at John then steps toward him realizations painting over his face.
"No, you're not one anymore, are you?"
"No, Jim, I'm not."
"You're just ordinary, he loves you ordinary."
"He never knew otherwise. Never told him."
"Thank you. Bless you."
Moriarty extends his hand accepting some form of defeat; lowering his gaze toward their feet. John tentatively accepts it and begins to turn Moriarty's arm around his back.
"As long as I'm alive, you can save yourself and him; you've got a way out..."
"Yes, we just mi-"
"Well good luck with that!"
As Moriarty yells into John's ear he yanks out of his grasp forcing a struggle with John. He knocks them both over onto the gravel-strewn roof scuffling for control knowing what has to be done. He will not be bested at his own game. Wresting control, he forces the shot point blank at his chest, barely missing his heart. John jumps back in utter shock and horror.
"Jim! Damn you!"
The younger man smiles triumphantly up at John even as the doctor tries to see if there is a chance of salvage him before Moriarty bleeds out on the roof of the hospital. They'd never make it down in time and they both know it.
"Make it a good one Johnny...Now you have to jump...otherwise he dies...no one to call it off no-"
"Jim? Fu...No!"
John bounds up breathing heavily trying not to hyperventilate quite yet, but it seems his body has other ideas. As he paces the rooftop calculating if he could get a message to Mycroft to get Sherlock out of London, his mobile chimes. He knows it's time.
There's nothing left for it now, this must be done.
'Please, Lord, let me live.'
He sends up a third and final prayer before answering.
"Hello Sherlock..."
