The narrow corridor took them through winding paths which seemed to double back on itself several times. Sherlock was of the impression that this was meant to distract them or slow them down. They finally came to another door slid open and Sherlock walked through the doorway, holding the pistol in both of his hands lowered towards the floor while Mycroft and John followed him, leaving Joanna behind. They entered a small room with black walls and floor which had no windows, the room only dimly lit. Unlike the previous room, there was no red paint on the walls.
A wall screen was currently showing only pouring water. In the middle of the room resting on two trestles was a dark green stained wooden coffin with gold handles and no lid and the light shined down onto it. Sherlock walked across and looked down into the coffin, then raised his head to look for the light source. There was a narrow open chimney in the middle of the ceiling from which daylight was streaming in. The lid of the coffin was propped up against the far wall, its underside facing the room, the speakers clicked, and Eurus' voice came through.
"One more minute on the phone," Eurus informed them, and the speakers squealed momentarily and then the little girl's voice came from them.
"Frightened. I'm really frightened," The girl told them, and Sherlock closed his eyes.
"It's okay, don't worry," Sherlock tried to assure her and on the plane the girl made her way towards the rear of the section, stepping over the prone flight attendant who was lying in the aisle. "I don't have very long with you, so I just need you to tell me what you can see outside the plane," Sherlock told her and the little girl turned and looked out of the nearest window at his words. It was still quite dark outside, but the view of the ocean suggested that the plane was flying quite low.
"Just the sea. I can see the sea," The little girl told Sherlock, hoping that he could help her.
"Are there ships on it?" Sherlock asked, trying to gain as much information as he could in the short time that he had.
"No ships. I can see lights in the distance," The little girl answered him anxiously.
"Is it a city?" Sherlock asked her, wondering how much time that he had left, the seconds quickly ticking by.
"I think so," The little girl answered him, and Sherlock turned and looked at John who was standing beside him at the side of the coffin. Mycroft, standing at the other side, spoke quietly.
"She's about to fly over a city in a pilotless plane. We'll have to talk her through it," Mycroft told his brother and John frowned at him.
"Through what?" John asked Mycroft quietly.
"Hello? Are you still there?" The little girl asked worriedly.
"Still here. Just give us a minute," Sherlock informed her, flicking his eyes towards John and his brother.
"Getting the plane away from any mainland, any populated areas. It has to crash in the sea," Mycroft told them quietly and John looked at him as if he couldn't believe what he was saying.
"What about the girl?" John asked quietly in bewilderment.
"Well, obviously, Doctor Watson, she's the one who's going to crash it," Mycroft answered John firmly in barely above a whisper.
"No. W-we could help her land it. We just have to get to Lexi. She knows how to fly a plane. She could talk her through it," John told Mycroft who looked at him with a slightly sorry look.
"Lexi isn't here," Mycroft reminded John before continuing. "And if we fail, and she crashes into a city? How many will die then?"
"How are we gonna get her to do that?" John asked Mycroft, perturbed.
"I'm afraid we're going to have to give her hope," Mycroft answered the army doctor, looking down towards the coffin for a moment.
"Is there really no-one there that can help you? Have you really, really checked?" Sherlock asked the little girl loudly so that she could hear. Crashing the plane into the sea had to be their last resort.
"Everyone's asleep. Will you help me?" The little girl asked, sounding more anxious and tearful.
"We're going to do everything that we can," Sherlock assured her, wishing even more that Lexi was here, to help them.
"I'm scared. I'm really scared," The little girl told them, and John sighed out a deep breath.
"It's all right. I ...," Sherlock began, trying to reassure her and he stopped when there was a click on the speakers. In the governor's office, Eurus could see the room on the screen in front of her, having just returned from her discussion with Lexi.
"Now, back to the matter in hand," Eurus informed the trio and she leaned closer towards the camera. "Coffin. Problem: someone is about to die. It will be – as I understand it – a tragedy," She said and Sherlock walked around to the head of the coffin, rubbing the thumb of his gun hand over his brow as he turned to look at it. "So many days not lived, so many words unsaid," She continued, looking away from the camera with a fake sad expression before she looked back to the camera with a more genuine sarcastic look on her face. "Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
"Yes, yes, yes, and this – I presume – will be their coffin," Sherlock said, exasperated.
"Whose coffin, Sherlock? Please, start your deductions. I will apply some context in a moment," Eurus informed her brother and Sherlock, who had been pacing around, now turned towards the head of the coffin again and blew out a noisy breath.
"Well, allowing for the entirely pointless courtesy of headroom, I'd say this coffin is intended for someone of about five foot eight or five foot seven. Makes it more likely to be a woman," Sherlock deduced, and John frowned out him.
"Not a man?" John asked Sherlock in confusion.
"No, definitely not a man, this has signs of a feminine touch to it. It is in a lower price range, obviously someone who is frugal with their money, although it is still the best available in that bracket," Sherlock continued, his mind searching for anything to tell him who this coffin belonged to.
"A quiet night on Google!" John exclaimed softly while looking at the detective.
"This is a practical and informed choice, someone who planed in advanced most likely to spare their loved ones from having to make the decision for them. Balance of probability suggests that this is for a married woman who is close to her relatives. That much is suggested by the decision to choose their own coffin," Sherlock deduced and while he was speaking, Mycroft had looked across the room, frowned in the direction of the coffin lid propped up against the wall and now he walked across to pick it up and turned it to look at the top side. "Acquainted with the process of death most likely. Also, the lining of the coffin ...," Sherlock continued, still concentrating on the coffin itself.
"Yes, very good, Sherlock, or we could just look at the name on the lid," Mycroft interrupted, and he turned it towards the others. They walked closer to look at it. When Sherlock saw what it says, he sighed and closed his eyes.
"Only it isn't a name," Mycroft explained as Sherlock turned away with a pained expression on his face. The golden letters read:
I LOVE YOU
"Lexi," John breathed in horror.
"This is all about you. Everything here," Mycroft said, looking towards his brother and Sherlock walked slowly back to the coffin and put his hands on top of it at the head end. "Lexi, the twins, John, she took them all to motivate you," Mycroft added as Sherlock gazed intensely into the coffin. John walked over to his side while Mycroft leaned the lid against the wall once more.
"Eurus likes Lexi, yes? Why would she want to hurt her?" John asked Sherlock quietly.
"Because Lexi stopped coming to see her on Mycroft's orders," Sherlock informed John as Eurus leaned forward on screen.
"She's perfectly safe, for the moment," Eurus informed Sherlock with a slight smile on her face. "In fact, how about I let her say hello, just to assure you," Eurus told them before she turned her head to look at someone off screen, smiling. "In fact, I have a surprise for you," Eurus continued as she looked back at the screen, pushing her chair back a little from the desk. "I'd like you three to meet someone," Eurus told them, turning to look off camera once more. "Don't be shy," Eurus told whoever was off screen, holding her hand out to the side. "Come," She ordered, and Lexi walked into view of the camera, taking Eurus' hand in her own.
Sherlock stared at the screen and walked towards it as John blew out a breath and Mycroft rolled his head back in frustration. John stared towards the screen in dread then, trembling slightly. Mycroft took another step towards the screen, his eyes wide and his mouth open as he breathed heavily Lexi was wearing an outfit identical to Eurus' and her hair was pulled up, looking freshly brushed. Her nose was tapped up as well and she looked paler than normal. Sherlock pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, lowering his head at the sight of his wife before he blew out a deep breath and stared at his wife once more.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Eurus asked them as she reached up and played with the ends of Lexi's hair, her other hand still grasping Lexi's tightly in her own. "I'll admit, it took me longer than usual, but now, she's perfect," Eurus told them and Sherlock pressed his lips together once more as Mycroft stared at his sister, his face grave and pale as he began to catch on. John frowned in confusion as Lexi stared blankly back at them, with no look of recognition, worry, or emotion on her face.
"Lexi?" Sherlock asked his wife cautiously in a quiet, restrained voice. He shifted his footing and frowned at the screen worriedly.
"Who is that?" Lexi asked Eurus with a frown, pointing at the three of them.
"It's me, Sherlock. Your husband," Sherlock told Lexi in confusion as Lexi frowned deeper and Eurus patted her hand reassuringly. Sherlock almost turned to look at John for an explanation, but he turned back to the screen, frowning, blinking and squinting in confusion.
"You can't be," Lexi told him with a shake of her head, her face still devoid of any recognition. "I would never marry you," She added, and Sherlock felt like he had taken a punch to the gut at her words.
It was the words he had always expected her to say when he had purposed to her. He always knew he wasn't good for her, not enough for her and hearing her say those words made him feel like his whole life was crashing down around him. A small part of him knew that this wasn't his Lexi, that she would never say that and the only reason she had was because Eurus had done something to her, but the pain he felt at her words might never go away.
"What's wrong with her?" John asked Sherlock, his face ashen as he came to stand beside Sherlock, gripping his shoulder tightly as Sherlock bent over, breathing heavily.
"Eurus reprograms people," Mycroft told John softly and John flipped his head around, staring at him, his face growing more ashen as the words registered in his mind.
"I thought you said Eurus couldn't do that to Lexi," John said in a hallow sounding voice, lowering his head and pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Mycroft's head also dropped as Sherlock stared at the screen wide-eyed.
"Obviously, I was wrong," Mycroft told John grimly as Sherlock blinked rapidly and bit his lips. Sherlock's face straightened and he looks at the screen emotionlessly as the pain raged within him.
"Don't you remember anything? Moriarty?" Sherlock asked his wife, trying to jog her memory with anything that she might possibly remember. There had to be some part of her that would remember something. Something Eurus couldn't touch.
"Jim?" Lexi asked, her eyebrow raising and the three men where shocked at the way she spoke of him with familiarity. "I know you killed him. My husband," Lexi continued coldly, and the trio's mouths fell open in shock at her words as Sherlock felt like he had been stabbed in the heart.
"Your what?!" John asked in disbelief.
"Oh, didn't I introduce you?" Eurus asked them before looking up at Lexi and patting her hand once more. "Go on and tell them your name dear," Eurus told Lexi who smiled down at Eurus before turning back to the screen.
"Alexandria. Alexandria Moriarty," Lexi told them, and the three men could only stare back in utter shock.
"How?" Sherlock asked, his voice coming out strained.
"We talked, and talked, and talked," Eurus answered her brother with a smile.
"Lexi, come on, it's us," John said, gesturing to each of them. "Sherlock, John, and Mycroft."
"It's no use, Doctor Watson. You see, I was intrigued when Sherlock told me that he had written me out of his memories, so I did a little rewriting myself," Eurus informed them with a smirk on her face.
"How will you explain the twins then?" Sherlock asked his sister, his face devoid of emotion.
"Oh, that's easy. They're Lexi's and Moriarty's," Eurus answered him and that angered Sherlock.
"They're mine," He all but hissed. "Mine and Lexi's," He added before looking at his wife. "Surely you remember something. Our wedding, our first wedding. The first time we laid together as man and wife. I wanted so much more for you, but you didn't care. You were so beautiful with that butterfly clip in your hair," Sherlock said to Lexi, trying to rouse her, the real her and Lexi stared at him, an odd look on her face. He couldn't even communicate with her through looks, she was a blank slate. "Xia, it's me, Shezza," Sherlock told her desperately
"You disgust me," Lexi told him in a cold voice, and for a moment, her expression changed and since Eurus was staring at them, it went unnoticed. For one second, Lexi blinked and then the message came through loud and clear, Vatican Cameos. Sherlock gasped and reared back from the screen acting shocked before he sighed and buried his head in both hands, bending forward.
She was safe, she was still herself and she was playing a dangerous game. She was making Eurus think that she won, that her plan worked, but she was his. That was all that mattered. That she was safe and herself. Everything else could work itself out. Sherlock lifted his head and straightened up, sighing out loudly, exhausted. Mycroft walked towards him, trying to offer some support, knowing if the same had happened to his wife, he would be devastated. Joanna was his whole world.
"Don't worry, you never have to see him again," Eurus assured Lexi and Sherlock who was holding the pistol in both hands, lowered his forehead onto the top of it.
"What's your game Eurus?" Sherlock asked his sister, but she didn't reply. Instead she looked up at Lexi and told her one simple command, "Leave." As Lexi disappeared off screen, Sherlock tried once more. "Come on, play fair. The girl on the plane: I need to talk to her," Sherlock told his sister more strongly. In her office, Eurus looked a little emotional for the first time, though whether she was genuinely feeling any emotion was anyone's guess at this moment.)
"What was your point, presenting my wife to me?" Sherlock asked his sister who made a disparaging sound and reappeared on the screen in front of him
"The point? Oh, don't be boring, Sherlock. The point was clear. You lost," Eurus told her brother who frowned at him. "Look what you did to her. Look what you did to yourself," Eurus continued as Sherlock turned away from the screen. "All those complicated little emotions. I lost count. Emotional context, Sherlock. It destroys you every time," Eurus told them, and Sherlock walked past the coffin, noisily dropping the pistol down beside it, continuing on towards the lid propped up against the wall while Eurus sat back in her chair. "Now, please, pull yourself together. I need you at peak efficiency. The next one isn't going to be so easy," Eurus informed them and one of the doors slid open, Mycroft turning to look at it. "In your own time," Eurus added, and the screen turned to the pouring water.
Sherlock picked up the coffin lid and turned and walked towards the coffin while Mycroft and John headed for the open door. Sherlock put the lid into place on top of the coffin while the others turned to watch him. He rested his hand on the top and slowly drew his hand across towards him, his eyes lowered as he breathed out what was almost a quiet sob.
"Sherlock?" John asked the detective in concern and pulling his hand across the top of the lid, Sherlock turned towards the coffin, lifting his other hand to unbutton his jacket.
"No. No," Sherlock said, his face starting to twist with rage, and he pulled back his right arm and smashed it with all his strength down onto the lid, shattering it.
He drew back his hand and then slammed both fists down onto the lid again and again, then seized the side of the coffin and lifted the whole thing before smashing it down repeatedly on top of the trestles, disintegrating the box into pieces while he cried out over and over again in rage, grief and frustration. Eventually he let out a long, anguished scream which echoed upwards into the chimney and up into the air above the prison. The rain had arrived and poured downwards, while lightning flashed, and thunder rumbled. Sherlock said nothing, hoping his display would only help Lexi maintain her cover, but the rage and frustration were clouding his mind. He walked over to one of the walls and slid down, sitting on the floor.
John walked across the room, avoiding all the splintered wood lying around, and bent down to pick up the pistol from the floor. He straightened up and cleared his throat softly and walked across to where Sherlock was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. Sherlock's legs were bent up in front of him and his wrists rested on the tops of his knees. His head was lowered, and he was staring at the floor in front of him, breathing heavily with a distressed look on his face. Mycroft was standing and watching them from just outside the open door and the nearby screen was still showing pouring water. John stopped a few paces in front of his friend.
"Look, I know this is difficult and I know you're being tortured, but you have got to keep it together," John told Sherlock quietly but firmly.
"This isn't torture; this is vivisection. We're experiencing science from the perspective of lab rats," Sherlock told John, not lifting his head, the frustration and rage fueling him now. He breathed out loudly and raised his head to rest it against the wall behind him and gazed upwards. Mycroft watched nearby, looking concerned and Sherlock glanced in his direction without turning his head, then swallowed and looked up at John. "Soldiers?" Sherlock asked his army doctor.
"Soldiers," John nodded, and he bent down and held out his right hand to Sherlock, who took it with his own right hand and John pulled him to his feet. Sherlock buttoned his jacket and John blew out a breath as they walked side-by-side to the doorway, John holding out the pistol and Sherlock taking it as they walked. Just as they reached the doorway the lights turned red in the room and Moriarty's voice came over the speakers.
"Tick-tock, tickets please!" Moriarty said and this time there was no corridor and the doorway led directly into another grey-walled room.
The lights in both rooms turned white again as Moriarty left the screen. Sherlock's eyes flicked around the new room. Again, there was no window and each of the four walls had a screen against it, although these were on stands, and were currently showing pouring water. There was nothing else in the room and the floor was mostly grey apart from a large white panel in the centre.
"Hey, sis, don't mean to complain but this one's empty. What happened? Did you run out of ideas?" Sherlock asked and the screens flickered on and showed Eurus still sitting in the governor's office.
"It's not empty, Sherlock. You've still got the gun, haven't you? I told you you'd need it, because only two can play the next game. Just two of you go on from here; your choice," Eurus informed her brother and she smiled brightly into the camera. "It's make-your-mind-up time. Whose help do you need the most – John or Mycroft?" She asked and Mycroft frowned round at John, who sighed and turned away. "It's an elimination round. You choose one and kill the other. You have to choose family or friend. Mycroft or John Watson?" Eurus continued and Sherlock turned around to face the others. The lights turned red and Moriarty appeared on the screens, tilting his head from one side to the other as he whispered loudly through his teeth.
"Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick," Moriarty whispered, and he stopped and closed his mouth.
"Eurus, enough!" Mycroft shouted and the lights turned white and Eurus was back.
"Not yet, I think," Eurus told her older brother mildly and she smiled. "But nearly. Remember, there's a plane in the sky, and it's not going to land," Eurus added, and Mycroft rubbed his hands over his face and then lowered them and stepped forward towards Sherlock.
"Well?" Mycroft asked his brother, resigned to the fact.
"Well, what?" Sherlock asked his brother in confusion.
"We're not actually going to discuss this, are we?" Mycroft asked and he turned his head towards John. "I'm sorry, Doctor Watson. You're a fine man in many respects," He added, and he turned back to Sherlock. "Make your goodbyes and shoot him," Mycroft told his brother, looking at Sherlock for a couple of seconds, then pointing towards John and raising his voice. "Shoot him!"
"What?" John asked, walking closer to Mycroft and Mycroft glanced at him for a brief moment and then turned back to his brother.
"Shoot Doctor Watson. There's no question who has to continue from here. It's us; you and me. Whatever lies ahead requires brainpower, Sherlock, not sentiment. Don't prolong his agony; shoot him," Mycroft told his brother as Sherlock said nothing, watching the exchange happen.
"Do I get a say in this?" John asked in bewilderment.
"Today, we are soldiers. Soldiers die for their country," Mycroft told the army doctor, turning to him and Sherlock watched him closely as he continued. "I regret, Doctor Watson, that privilege is now yours," Mycroft told John who glared towards him, his jaw clenched.
"Shit," John swore, and he turned his head to Sherlock. "He's right," John told Sherlock and Sherlock turned to him as John turned his body round to face him. "He is, in fact, right."
"Make it swift. No need to prolong his agony. Get it over with ...," Mycroft said, looking at John, but speaking to his brother before he turned and looked at his brother. "... and we can get to work," He finished, and John shifted on the spot and straightened up, bracing himself. Sherlock lowered his head and half-turned away from them. Mycroft scoffed at the sight, then started to chuckle sarcastically.
"God!" He exclaimed and he put his hands in his trouser pockets, grinning. "I should have expected this," He continued, and his smile dropped. "Pathetic. You always were the slow one ...," He said, and Sherlock tilted one eyebrow, not meeting his brother's eyes. "... the idiot. That's why I've always despised you. You shame us all. You shame the family name. Now, for once in your life, do the right thing," Mycroft told his brother, tilting his head towards John. "Put this stupid little man out of all our misery," Mycroft finished and John bit his lips, not looking towards Sherlock. "Shoot him," Mycroft ordered.
"Stop it," Sherlock told his brother quietly, his head still turned away.
"Look at him. What is he?" Mycroft asked and John, still facing Sherlock, sighed heavily, his gaze sad and distant. "Nothing more than a distraction; a little scrap of ordinariness for you and Lexi to impress, to dazzle with your cleverness. You'll find another."
"Please, for God's sake, just stop it," Sherlock said, his voice low, still not looking at his brother.
"Why?" Mycroft asked him, unabashed.
"Because, on balance, even your Lady Bracknell was more convincing," Sherlock told him, slowly turning towards his brother. Mycroft blinked and lifted his head, looking a little disappointed while Sherlock turned his head towards John, but didn't look at him. "Ignore everything he just said. He's being kind. He's trying to make it easy for me to kill him," Sherlock said in a low voice and he looked towards John, but John had already turned his head to Mycroft. Mycroft reached up to smooth his hair a little, but now he lowered his hand and smiled ruefully at his brother.
"Which is why this is going to be so much harder," Sherlock added, and he turned to face his brother and raised the gun, pointing it at him. On the screen behind him, Eurus showed a trace of emotion for the first time, her eyes widening, and her mouth open a little while Mycroft smiled at Sherlock.
"You said you liked my Lady Bracknell," Mycroft said while John watched the exchange, unsure what was happening.
"Sherlock. Don't," John told the detective in a whisper.
"It's not your decision, Doctor Watson," Mycroft informed the army doctor, turning to look at him and John looked at him as Mycroft turned back to his brother. "Not in the face, though, please. I've promised my brain to the Royal Society," He informed Sherlock and behind Sherlock, Eurus leaned closer to the camera, looking concerned. Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again.
"Where would you suggest?" Sherlock asked his brother, his voice steady.
"Well ...," Mycroft began, and he started doing up the top button of his shirt. "... I suppose there is a heart somewhere inside me, evident by the fact Joanna seems so fond of me," Mycroft continued, and he looked down and straightened his tie. "I don't imagine it's much of a target but ...," He said. and Sherlock's face was anguished, but he smiled a little, and Eurus briefly raised her eyes away from the camera for the first time. "…why don't we try for that?" Mycroft finished lowering his hands and looking directly at Sherlock. John walked to his side and held out a hand towards Sherlock.
"I won't allow this," John told the detective in almost a whisper. He turned his head to Mycroft, who looked at him seriously.
"This is my fault," Mycroft told them, and he turned his eyes to Sherlock. "Moriarty."
"Moriarty?" Sherlock asked his brother in confusion.
"Her Christmas treat: five minutes' conversation with Jim Moriarty five years ago," Mycroft explained to Sherlock and John.
"What did they discuss?" Sherlock asked, raising his brow slightly.
"Five minutes' conversation ...," Mycroft said, and Sherlock lowered the pistol a little, already knowing what he was going to say. Mycroft paused and then shrugged. "... unsupervised."
John's mouth opened and he stumbled back a step as Mycroft looked down ruefully. As John continued to back away, Sherlock sighed softly and raised the pistol again and Mycroft straightened up and looked at him.
"Goodbye, brother mine. No flowers ...," Mycroft told him, and he put his hands behind his back "... by request. Joanna and Armillia…," He said, and Sherlock nodded.
"We'll look after them," Sherlock promised, and Sherlock shifted his finger more firmly onto the trigger of the gun and took aim. On the screen behind him, Eurus spoke breathlessly, her eyes wide.
"Jim Moriarty thought you'd make this choice. He was so excited," Eurus told them and the lights in the room turned red and Moriarty appeared on the screen, speaking more softly than previously.
"And here we are, at the end of the line. Holmes killing Holmes," Moriarty announced, and Mycroft shifted uncomfortably on the spot while Sherlock looked at him with a determined gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly. "This is where I get off," Moriarty told them, and he smiled. The lights went white and Eurus was back on the screen. Sherlock's gaze was fixed on his brother, his expression grim.
"Five minutes. It took her just five minutes to do all of this to us," Sherlock told Mycroft tightly, through almost clenched teeth. He turned his eyes towards John, who looked at him more closely. Sherlock returned his gaze to his brother, then raised his eyebrows and shrugged, pressing his lips together for a moment before lowering the gun and turning away. "Well, not on my watch," Sherlock said quietly, and Mycroft looked startled while John turned to face Sherlock, licking his lips.
"What are you doing?" Eurus asked, wondering what her brother was doing.
"A moment ago, a brave man asked to be remembered," Sherlock told them, turning to face them once more, Mycroft starting to look alarmed. "I'm remembering the governor," Sherlock added, holding the pistol in both hands, he lifted the muzzle and pressed the end under his chin. "Ten ...," Sherlock began calmly, and Eurus frowned.
"No, no, Sherlock," Eurus told him, and John looked briefly to Mycroft then back to Sherlock.
"Nine ...," Sherlock counted, both of the others staring at Sherlock in horror. "Eight ..."
"You can't!" Eurus exclaimed, finally showing some emotion.
"Seven ...," Sherlock continued, his voice still calm, betting that he was right.
"You don't know about Redbeard yet," Eurus told Sherlock urgently and Sherlock lowered his left hand, continuing to hold the muzzle under his chin with the other.
"Six ...," Sherlock counted, knowing he was gambling with his life.
"Sherlock!" Eurus cried anxiously, showing her hand.
"Five ...," Sherlock continued, halfway there.
"Sherlock, stop that at once!" Eurus ordered loudly, panicked. As she yelled at him, a small dart whizzed out of a round hole in the wall and impacted the back of Sherlock's head. He jolted and reached his left hand around to it.
"Four ...," Sherlock counted, and another dart shot out into the back of John's neck. He reached around for it and Sherlock pulled the dart from his own neck. "Three ...," Sherlock said, more quietly and he looked at the dart, still holding the gun under his chin. "Two ...," He counted weakly and he slowly fell backwards, the pistol falling from his hand. His eyes slowly closed as he fell, and when he landed it was as if he had fallen into thick black oil, which rose up around him and enveloped him until he disappeared from view.
