HERE WE GO! THE FINAL CHAPTER OF THE BOOK! WHOOP WHOOP! I really do hope you guy'll enjoy it! ;)
It was barely dawn when Sherlock awoke again. Not like he was surprised, really. He spent the entire night thinking. Then around what seemed to be midnight he slept, only to be woken up half an hour later by his rampaging thoughts. That was hours ago.
There was just so much going on in his head. It was difficult to even pin point one exact thing. It swam like tiny fish jumping out of the water for a second before finally diving back down into the deep ocean that was Sherlock's mind. And he the fisher, trying with all his might to get a grip on the creature, but then it slips of his hands like butter.
The person that seemed to capture Sherlock's undivided attention was a certain snake.
Jim Moriarty.
The man was manipulative, Sherlock knew that already. But it doesn't matter whether Moriarty wants him dead or not. Sherlock wants his flower. He wants to see her again, and the very thought of her staying alone aches his heart.
Sherlock didn't actually come to a decision before he felt himself getting up from the sand and ruffling the minerals out of his hair. He quickly picked up his dark coat and his dusty sword and put them on. His excited winter eyes fell upon the sleeping figure of John.
Kind John.
Oh, he's going to be so disappointed.
"I'm sorry," Sherlock whispered silently. "But I must do this."
He looked at the booklet that isn't far from his reach and ripped a pice of paper and stuffed it into his pocket. He also grabbed the small used up pencil. He put them both inside his jacket pocket, just in case, and he took one last look at John before he set off to the leafless tree.
...
...
"Ahhh, Sssherlock Holmesss! What a sssurprise," Moriarty greeted when he saw Sherlock grudge his way to him. "Thought you gave up on my little offer."
Sherlock shook his head, "No, sir."
"Great!" Moriarty slid down the tree, and, as a man, he leaned against the tree bark, smirking ominously.
"I knew you were a sssmart one." He slowly slithered his way up to Sherlock, tapping his shoulders and whispering into his ear, "Are we ready?"
Sherlock gulped, "H-How about we play a- a game first?" Maybe he could stall. Maybe he didn't actually have to leave John this way. Maybe he could find another way. Maybe John didn't have to alone this way...
Moriarty raised and eyebrow, then his expression smoothed again. "I do looove my games..." At Sherlock's relieved face he smirked, "But I like this one more."
Sherlock face immediately went dull, "What do you think, Sher? Are you game? Or are just like every other sstupid waste of ssskin that roams this earth?"
There was a moment of silence. Sherlock didn't think he would have any hesitations. He thought he would just say yes and move on. He didn't think that there would be anything to keep him here. Anyone to keep him here. But once again he was dead wrong. He hated being wrong, it made so many things so utterly complicated.
There was John.
Damn him.
John also had a hold on his heart. Like Irene.
"I don't think I want this anymore, Mr. Moriarty," Sherlock fiddled with his blue scarf that was loosely wrapped around his neck.
"Oh!- don't tell me that 'human' convinced you about how good the earth is. And you're on their side now." Moriarty sneered and shook his head, "You're on the sside of the angelss."
"No, Mr. Moriarty. The people here, well the adults are horrible. They are condescending and rude. They only talk and don't listen to a word you say. No, sir, this place is horrible." Sherlock paused to see if the snake was actually listening. He was, his dark eyebrow was raised in question and he looked a little intrigued.
"But John isn't. And I think that's what I've come to learn about. This sentiment. People and their feelings. I used to think that it was a weakness, but now- now I realize its a great strength. It's what pushed me after all these years to get to my flower. John is unlike any other person I've met. Had it been him I met first I would have stayed. So no, Mr. Moriarty, I cannot take your offer. I want to stay on earth." Sherlock then narrowed his eyes, "I may be on the side of the angels, Jim Moriarty, but don't waste your time to think that I am one of them."
Moriarty's face was blank, and Sherlock had a feeling he just said the wrong thing. Then his mouth twitched. It was when his mouth was upturned in a total sadistic smile that Sherlock knew he was in deep ice water.
"Your right," Moriarty chuckled. "You're not like them. You're me."
Sherlock denied that statement immediately, but Moriarty just nodded along. "Yesss, you're just like me. But uh..."
Sherlock lifted his head with wide eyes, "Well, you cccertainly can't change your mind now."
He should have stayed. He should have listened to John. He shouldn't have come here. He should have waited for John. John John John John.
Dear God Dr. Watson, please help me.
"Let's make another deal, huh?" If possible Moriarty's sadistic smirk grew larger. "If you don't take my offer, I'll bite John. Yesss, yes. I know the doctor is here with you, I've been watching. And he'ss most probably on his way now. Ssso, Mr. Holmes if you want Dr. Watson and your old buddy the fox- Lesstrade was it?- to keep on living in this sssad excusse of a planet, I ssuggest you take my previous offer."
At Sherlock's horrified and betrayed face the snake's mouth curled into a crude smirk, "It's just business baby."
The world fell out from under him. He's lost. He lost against the snake. He has no choice now. It's over. It isn't a game anymore. At least for him, it wasn't. The only player was Moriarty. He was just the prize.
He was played.
When Sherlock nodded his head, Moriarty smiled hungrily, showing his sharp venomous teeth.
"P-Please just allow me this one thing?" He took out the paper and pencil from his pocket and looked to Moriarty. "Please."
...
...
"Eureka!" John yelled happily. He hums as he listens to the engine purr to life and watches the wings at the front spin again.
"I need air!" He laughs.
He excitedly jumps out of the plane and looks for that familiar mop of brown hair, "Hey, it works! It works! Sherlock!" He can bring Sherlock with him. He doesn't have to see that manipulative snake, Moriarty, again. John would make sure. He'll show Sherlock so many things. What it would be like to have friends his age. Sherlock deserved it. If he could only find him...
He looks around and frowns, "Sherlock? Where are you?"
He looks into the distance and breaks into a run.
...
...
Sherlock's eyes widen as he looks into the distance and sees a frantic figure running his way. Oh God he's too soon.
Sherlock pockets the letter and gulps the large lump that made its way to his throat.
"It's now or never, Ssherl." The snake said casually, "Watsson or you? What's it gonna be?"
"Don't call me that." Sherlock grunted but nodded his head nonetheless.
Moriarty smirked and his eyes brightened. He went back to his snake and curled up around Sherlock's left boot.
That was the time when John looked to see Sherlock by the tree; the snake made its bite.
"No. Wait, no."
Sherlock's eyes shut closed and he fell to the sandy floor. John was by his side before he even started running.
"No, no, no, no, no." He kept muttering his words as he felt for a pulse.
There was a weak one. A little one.
"By God, what have you done."
Sherlock smiled tiredly at the doctor, "I didn't expect you to get here so fast."
"So you knew I would come here?" John tried his very hardest not to yell.
Sherlock avoided the question, "There's a letter in my pocket." He tapped his finger on the right side of his coat. John took it out and looked to Sherlock, "What is this?"
"It's my note." Sherlock smiled wryly, "Isn't that what people do when they have someone they're leaving behind."
"No, stop it." John shook his head in denial, "You're just kid, Sherlock. You shouldn't be-" he was gripping the paper so tightly his knuckles were white.
He was about to look at the injury and try whatever he can to fix it, but by God He was in the middle of the desert. He doesn't have a first aid kit (not like that could do much), much less a hospital.
"No, don't." Sherlock turned to John with pleading eyes, "Don't."
John let go.
"I'm glad you fixed your engine," Sherlock smiled. "Now you can go home."
John nodded, ignoring the harsh stinging in his eyes, "Yes."
"I meant you could go to London, Doctor Watson. London is your home. We should all stay in our homes, or else, we would never be happy. And what is the point of life if you're not happy? That's why I'm going home too."
Seeing this wasn't making John any happier, Sherlock decided to change the subject.
"You must keep your promise, you know."
John blinked, "What promise?"
"You know, to make a muzzle for my sheep?"
John laughed and shook his head. "Please? You promised."
"Please."
John sighed and rubbed his nose. He got put a piece of paper and the pencil from the child and started to draw the muzzle.
"Don't forget fence. She needs a fence."
John nodded silently and finished the drawing.
Sherlock smiled, "It's a very nice drawing, thank you." He pocketed it in his pants.
John felt his hands, "You're as cold as ice." He looked to Sherlock and asked, "Are you afraid?"
Sherlock shook his head. "I shan't be, I'm going home, John. So, if you please- leave me?"
John looked at him for a moment. Silent. He took a shuttering breath before shaking his head, "No. No I can't. I won't" With that he heaved Sherlock up and carried him to the way of the plane. He caught site of a brown and forest green snake in the leafless tree.
"I don't want you to suffer." Sherlock said. "It would like I would be dead, but it won't be true."
John shook his head.
...
Sherlock's eyelids were getting heavier, like sacks of grain. It's too heavy for me to carry this body with me, you understand don't you?" Sherlock mumbled, "It'll be like an old abandoned shell. There nothing sad about shells, is there?"
...
They make it back to the plane, and John carefully lays the little boy down on the sand.
Sherlock's eyes are filled with stars as he looks up into the evening night. "My star is so small, I can't tell you where it is. I'm going back to it now, but before I do I want to give you something."
"All I want is to hear you laugh again."
Sherlock's smiled sideways, "You will hear me laugh, because on one of those stars I'll be laughing. But you won't know which one. So it'll seem like all the stars are laughing. It'd be like a bell that's hanging from all the stars in sky." Sherlock sighed, feeling so tired, "That's all."
He breathed in a breath, "You should write a book."
"What?"
"About me, John. Write it and it's sure to get you enough money to live in London."
John chuckled, "You're so sure."
"Well of course I am. People can be so- I don't know- dull. They need something to brighten up they're lives."
John smiled a little, "I'll do it. People would love to talk about the strange little boy a doctor met in the desert." He joked.
"People do little else," Sherlock said.
John chuckled and smiled at Sherlock, "Thank you."
Sherlock nodded jerkily.
John frowned, "Sherlock."
"I'm sorry, John."
...
"Oh, Little Prince don't take your smile away from me."
...
Dear Doctor Watson,
I'm terribly sorry to inform you that I'll be leaving this planet. Leaving you here. But hopefully the plane should be working now and you'll be flying away back to your home in Paris. (We're both going to be flying home, how funny. I'm laughing, can you hear me? John, look at the stars.)
...
The skies are laughing.
John is grinning as his plane takes flight. Yes, Sherlock I hear you
...
And maybe you'll be able to afford the money to live in London.
...
"Hello, do you have any flats available?" John asked an older blonde woman, wearing a flowery pink dress with a big smile. "My buddy pointed me in this direction."
"Yes!" She smiled happily, "We have one right here in 221B!" She gave him the keys, then she hesitated and gasped. "Your the author of that book- what's the name, oh yes!- The Little Prince!"
John nodded smiling a little at the woman's interest, "Yes, that's me."
"Doctor John H. Watson, it's a pleasure to meet you." She smiled and shook his arm.
"Just, John is fine." He grinned back, "And likewise, Mrs..."
"Hudson." She finished, "Ms. Hudson, though you don't have to call me Mrs. just Miss is fine."
John chuckled, "All Right, Ms. Hudson."
She patted his shoulder, "Well, just because I'm your landlady doesn't mean you can't stop by for a chat. Come in, I'll make you some tea."
"Thank you, and some biscuits if you've got any."
"I'm your landlady, not your housekeeper."
...
I know you're upset, probably even mad at me for doing such a thing, but it was the only way I could get home, John. You understand don't you? I have to get back to my flower, because she's mine and she has a hold on my heart, just as I her. I left thinking that the most important thing is knowing and learning absolutely everything. I thought that the point of life is to uncover its secrets and use it to your advantage. I was wrong. I see that now. It's to meet new people.
...
"Doctor John Watson, is your name?"
John nodded, "Yes, I was hoping to help out the Yard with some of these crime scenes. Like how I did last week. And the week before. And the week before... Except I think I should do it professionally."
The man raised an eyebrow, "You're that doctor that always comes 'round here?"
"Well- er.. I wouldn't say always, but uh yeah."
The detective gave John a once over, looking at John him and seeing there was no reason to be suspicious, "You any good?"
John nodded once, "Very good."
"Well then," The man nodded. "Welcome to the Yard."
"Thanks!" John smiled, then frowned, "-and you are..."
"Lestrade," the silver haired man jutted out an arm gruffly. "Greg Lestrade. Detective Inspector."
...
Make families.
...
John stared wistfully to the horizon as he sat on the black bench of the park. He sucked in the cold air and sighed listlessly. God, he missed London.
He stood up and stretched. He checked his watch, and HOLY CRAP! He's been sitting there for a whole hour. How on earth did he manage, he doesn't know. All he knows is that if he doesn't get moving now, he'll be late to work.
He grabs his coffee and took off to the right but almost immediately bumped into another runner. He felt a wet burning sensation on his shirt. He hissed out a curse when he smelled the coffee on him. There goes his energy for the day.. He shut his mouth when he set eyes on a gorgeous woman staring at him with wide eyes.
"Oh, God! I am so sorry! I'm so clumsy this morning!" She but her lip in nervousness. "Here I have napkins." She gave him a few napkins, but his shirt was definitely ruined.
It's a white shirt.
"I-It's alright." John reassured, "Really it's no big deal."
"Oh but you're shirt is ruined," she cringed when she realized it was white.
John waved it off, "It was my fault."
She shook her head and laughed. "Oh really? How on earth are you gonna make it up to me?!"
John grinned, "You know I could buy you a drink?"
The woman pondered a bit and tapped her chin thoughtfully, "That may be able to compensate the price for the events that went down."
At John's face she laughed, "All right I cave!" She smiled (Gosh she was beautiful) "Here's my number," she wrote it on one of the napkins and gave it to him. "Call me!" She yelled as she started to go away.
John smiled back then he froze and frantically called back, "Wait! What's your name?!"
She smirked at him, "Mary!"
"John," he yelled back.
He stared at the number in his hands in a daze.
Mary...
...
And explore the world. I truly do understand what the fox said about the heart. And my heart lies at my tiny planet, 221B, somewhere far into the solar system, and I need to go back to her, do you understand, John? It's like your home in London. But I believe you should know that I also left a little bit of my heart on Earth. THat piece is my best friend. His name is Doctor John Watson, and he's the best man I know. And maybe someday, I'll see him again. But hopefully not for a long time.
Sincerely Yours,
Sherlock "Holmes" SH