Of course it was Irene.
The Woman, like he always called her. Here, with Moran.
"What is going on?"
With in such a familiarity Irene stepped closer holding her gun up and blow its handle to Sherlock's head and he fell, but he didn't lost his consciousness.
"This is going on." Moran was now too close of Sherlock and his head spinning he didn't saw the boot coming, hitting him in the ribs and send him on his back. He gasped air.
"Tsk." Irene clicked her tong and Moran stared her coldly. "What? Is this what you are going to do him now? Beat him up? I'm disappointed. I though that I could see him suffer." Irene asked and Moran shrugged. "No, I'll make him pay." Moran draw out his knife and studied its long sharp edge. "This will hurt. I promise." He smiled at Sherlock who was tried to get up. But Moran's kick send him again on the floor.
"Now, where to start? Eyes? I know what will be the last part." Moran placed the blade against Sherlock's chest. "Your heart."
Sherlock tried to focus, tried to think, but he couldn't make himself move. Some of his ribs were broke and the pain confused him. He felt the blade on his cheek and the pain…
"Put that knife away." New voice commanded.
The time halted for a moment.
Everything stopped.
Sherlock watched right into Moran's eyes and then they both turned to watch.
Sherlock couldn't speak when he turned to see who was stepping inside the room.
Johnjohnjohn….
"John Watson? Oh, this is just too good to be real!" Moran laughed and backed off from Sherlock.
"John?" Sherlock tried to get up but Irene kicked him to stay low.
"Me. Sorry Sherlock." John grinned guiltily and walked slowly near them, his gun aimed to Moran.
"How?" Was the only thing what Sherlock could ask right then. What was he missing? What he hadn't noticed? How John was alive?
"Rubber bullet with fake blood and paralyzing needle. It hurt, really hurt. And broke two of my ribs." John avoided his gaze, his only focus at Moran who was now holding his knife very differently, ready to throw it.
"Shoot him Irene!" Moran commanded and Irene's gun moved a bit and now it pointed at Moran. The man watched the woman like he couldn't believe that she was actually betraying him. Irene just shrugged elegantly her shoulders and her voice was full of bity. "So sorry darling, but I'm afraid that I don't work for you."
"She works for me." John said and Moran turned to look at him again. Now he was shaking with rage, his hand rose.
Two guns went off same time.
Two bullets hit same time.
But before those Sherlock saw how the silver blade flashed and John jerked slightly.
"John!"
There was moment of shocked silent when John just watched how Moran fell, a hole in his forehead and his heart. "I should have done that earlier, years ago." John said his voice calm. Sherlock was finally on his feet when John gave up and dropped on his knees. The knife was hit on his right arm.
"It's nothing." John said when Sherlock knelt front of him.
"Nothing? That's nothing? John…"
"I think he know, he is a doctor after all." Irene said, getting Moran's cell phone. "You worked for John?" Sherlock asked and took John's gun and put that away and tried to think was it better to take knife out now or let medic to handle it.
"John contacted me. You know, we met in Morocco, what was it, two years ago? When you and Mary were escaped."
John' and Irene's eyes met. Both remember that meeting. Both promising that they would never speak what happened then to anyone.
"After that we kept contact." Irene drained the phone's memory, and threw it away.
"You knew that Sherlock was alive." John realized then, but he couldn't be angry. He was too tired to be angry to anyone anymore. Irene laughed.
"Of course I knew. I helped him when he was in France, repaying some depts." Irene walked beside of Sherlock, bowed and her finger followed Sherlock's jawline. She watched the man longingly. "But then, he left me behind and I though that I would do my own job and I found Moran, but I hadn't way to contact Sherlock. But then you were there again. And then Sherlock came up a plan. But you got better. Tsk tsk John, I said that it was wrong turn."
"Was it?" John closed his eyes and felt how Sherlock supported him.
Irene studied the men. And her smile softened. Those two, he couldn't found more perfect pair in the world. "Or not, if he..." She looked at Sherlock, "Forgive you. Now, before the cops are here I have to leave. Mycroft don't know that I'm alive and I want to keep it that way as long as possible. Say hello to Dillon. It was nice to work together again."
Irene left. Disappeared into the night.
Sherlock frowned and looked at John. "Dillon. Dillon shut you."
"Yes." John sighed. Hell he was tired and he didn't wanted to deal this just now. Not here. Not knife in his arm, the wound bleeding, some ribs broken. He needed to go hospital. And so needed Sherlock too.
"You did this because… Because… Why?" Sherlock asked. John opened his eyes and raised his hand, touched Sherlock bloodied cheek and shook his head. That wound needed some stitches. Would Sherlock never forgive him?
"I know you Sherlock. I know what drives you forward and I used it. And then.. I never though that you… I'm sorry."
Sherlock's eyes were warmer than John had expected. "Are we even now?"
John's eyebrow rose. "I would think so. I really hope so."
"Hell of kind of payback John." Sherlock said, but he wasn't angry. There was just a relief in his voice. Never except Sherlock to react for anything normal way. John smiled.
"You still love me?"
Sherlock grinned, leaned toward John and kissed him. It was soft tender kiss, full of love, full of relief. Not heated, nothing like that, they were too tired to think anything else but that they were alive. Both of them. And finally together.
"Always." Sherlock whispered when the lips parted again.
"Love you too." John smiled and their foreheads touched and the eyes locked and they started to giggle. John took deep breath.
"Ow, it hurt."
"We have to get you in hospital."
"No, I just think we need a vacation."
"I know just right place to be, in Scotland. Far away from everything. Quiet place." Sherlock helped John up. They could hear the sirens outside of the building.
John stopped. "Oh!"
"What it is?" Sherlock looked worried but John just smiled.
"I remember!"
"What?"
"The skull, I remember where I put it."
Don't know yet if I do one or two more chapters, but mainly, this was it.
Let me know.
Thanks
S
