AN: This is it. The final problem (see what I did there? ;)).

Yeah, this is the last chapter. I'm really proud of this, but BE WARNED. This is so angsty it actually hurt me to write it...

Anyway! Enjoy :) xxx

"SIR!" Cried one of Mycroft's guards. No… no, no… NO! I hear the panic in his voice. The horror. I stand. I push past my brother to the camera monitors.

"GO!" Mycroft yells. They are in action immediately, but I know, to my horror and heart-break, they are too late. John has been staring at the knife for a long time. Weeks. Months. I lost count…

Time was nothing to me anymore. I couldn't distinguish day and night. I didn't care for it. Neither did John.

I watch, tears running down my face. My emotions are raw, no longer a new thing to me…

He's locked himself in his room.

The door is blocked with every piece of furniture he owns. He spread the contents of the box over the floor. The letters, in several piles. Too many to spread out. The pictures, spread in a wide arc around him. The scores, my violin and my skull. The rose…

The circle is large, and reminds me of a ritual. He says something. He hasn't said anything in a long time.

"Soon, Sherlock… Soon… No more waiting… I'm coming… I love you."

And he plunges the knife into his stomach.

Whatever remained of my heart, it just shattered…

My body detaches from my mind, and forces its way from the house, sprinting into 221B, ahead of the rushing paramedics and Mycroft's men. It rams through the door, past the furniture, then quickly replaces it all.

Privacy.

I fall to my knees, my body and mind re-connecting.

"John… John, wake up… No… John… JOHN!" I wail, cradling him in my arms. He's not gone yet… His eyes open slightly, weakly.

"I told you… Soon…" he says.

"No… No, no!" I cry.

"Aren't you pleased to see me…?" John whispers.

"I've always seen you…" I whisper. "I've been watching for so long…"

He smiles. He mis-understood…

"Watching you stand alone…"

"I never stood… Not without you." John's voice is disappearing, fading. I watch, numb, as the life leaves his eyes.

"John… JOHN!" I cry. The tears fall rapidly, mingling with his blood… I clutch his cold, limp body to me, burying my face in his matted hair. "Why…?"

And I realise… This is the final problem. Not my suicide… But John's. And John's is real… Too real.

I stare at his face. Peaceful… But lifeless. I press my lips to his stone cold ones. I've never felt so much in my life… Love, pain, anger, grief, sadness, agony…

I hear a banging on the door.

"Sherlock!" Mycroft yells. "Sherlock, let us in!"

No.

I stare at the camera.

"No." I mouth. "This is all your fault…" I continue. I hear someone communicate it to him.

"NO! IT'S NOT MY FAULT!" He yells.

But he knows it is.

I stare blankly at the camera. I pull the knife from John's stomach, tears dry on my face. No more will fall, though I know they want to. They can't. Because they know…

They know I'll see him soon.

I hold the knife out before me.

Mycroft's yelling gets panicky, persistent.

"Goodbye, dear brother." I say. There is no emotion in my voice. Another knocking, another squeal. Molly. "Goodbye Molly. Thank You." I say.

The blade hits hard. My blood mixes with John's as I tear it from me, to speed the process.

Their voices blur.

I hit the ground.

I am dead.

So there we have it...

I'd like to thank you all for reading, and I hope I haven't just made you commit suicide... XD

Please review one last time, I love to know what you think xxx