THE DIOGENES CLUB.
Mycroft walks across one of the common rooms, where an old man is fast asleep in an armchair, and goes into the smaller private room, reaching for the door handle to close it, but he stops when he realises that John is sitting in one of the armchairs with his back to him. John is still looking through Kitty's file.
"She has really done her homework, Miss Riley – things that only someone close to Sherlock could know." John said.
"Ah." Mycroft said closing the door.
"Have you seen your brother's address book lately? Three names: yours, Vaness' and mine, and Moriarty didn't get this stuff from her or me." John said.
Mycroft walks across the room to face him.
"John ..." Mycroft begins.
"So how does it work, then, your relationship? D'you go out for a coffee now and then, eh, you and Jim?" John asked.
Mycroft sits down in the chair opposite and opens his mouth but John interrupts again. His voice is full of controlled anger.
"Your own brother, and you blabbed about his entire life to this maniac." John said loudly.
"I never inten... I never dreamt ..." Mycroft tried to explain.
John interrupted him again.
"So this ...th-th-this ..." he looks through the papers again "... is what you were trying to tell me, isn't it: 'Watch his back, 'cause I've made a mistake.'"
He slaps the papers down on the table beside his chair and sits back, clearing his throat as he tries to stay calm.
"How did you meet him?" John asked.
Mycroft draws in a long breath.
"People like him: we know about them; we watch them. But James Moriarty ... the most dangerous criminal mind the world has ever seen, and in his pocket the ultimate weapon: a keycode. A few lines of computer code that could unlock any door." Mycroft told him.
"And you abducted him to try and find the keycode?" John asked.
"Interrogated him for weeks." Mycroft said.
"And?" John asked.
"He wouldn't play along." Mycroft said.
"He just sat there, staring into the darkness." Mycroft continued.
"The only thing that made him open up ... " Mycroft trails off, as if he remembers.
"I could get him to talk ..." he continued. "... just a little, but ..." He trails off. John grimly finishes the sentence for him.
"... in return you had to offer him Sherlock's life story. So one big lie – Sherlock's a fraud – but people will swallow it because the rest of it's true." John said ruefully.
He leans forward in his chair.
"Moriarty wanted Sherlock destroyed, right? And you have given him the perfect ammunition." John told him.
"You know, you should thank Vaness. I'm sure she has a plan. And she's going to save your brother." John said.
He smiles bitterly at him. Mycroft lowers his eyes. John pulls in a sharp breath and then gets to his feet, turning towards the door.
"John ..."
John turns back. Mycroft looks up at him.
"I'm sorry." Mycroft said softly.
"Oh, please ..." John said tightly.
He shakes his head in disbelief and turns away, laughing humourlessly as he walks to the door.
"Tell him, would you?" Mycroft said.
John opens the door and walks away, leaving the door open behind him.
BART'S LAB.
The lights are now on. Sherlock and Vaness sits on the floor with their back against the bench. They were holding each other's hand.
"I want to go with you." Vaness whispered.
"John needs you." Sherlock said.
Vaness sighed, it was true.
"I know." She said.
Sherlock started bouncing a small rubber ball off the floor and cupboard in front of them and catching it before repeating the action constantly. John comes in.
"Got your message." John said.
Sherlock catches the ball and holds on to it.
"The computer code is key to this. If we find it, we can use it – beat Moriarty at his own game." Sherlock said.
"What d'you mean, "use it"?" John asked.
"He used it to create a false identity, so we can use it to break into the records and destroy Richard Brook." Sherlock explained.
"And bring back Jim Moriarty again." John finished.
Vaness and Sherlock stood up.
"Somewhere in 221B, somewhere – on the day of the verdict – he left it hidden." Sherlock said.
The couple turns and faces the bench. John walks to stand beside Sherlock, unconsciously mimicking their stance.
"Uh-huh." John said.
Both of them stare ahead of them, thinking. Vaness started to drum her fingers on the desk exactlythe same way Moriarty did, she also hummed softly the tune. John purses his lips, then looks at Sherlock.
"What did he touch?" John asked.
Sherlock noticed Vaness' fingers.
"An apple. Nothing else." Sherlock answered.
Sherlock briefly drums his fingers on the bench.
"Did he write anything down?" John asked.
"No." Sherlock answered blankly.
John hisses in a breath and looks away, racking his brains and again unconsciously mimicking his friend by drumming his own fingers on the bench. After a moment, he turns and walks across the lab, blowing the breath out again.
Sherlock lifts the fingers of his right hand, hesitates for a moment, then begins to drum them again but now he's beating out a specific rhythm and, in his mind, binary code begins to stream out from his fingers. He turned slightly to smile greatfully at Vaness. He lifts his head as John sighs heavily, unaware of Sherlock's sharpened expression. Straightening up, Sherlock turns his back to John, takes his phone out of his pocket and begins to type a text message:
Come and play.
Bart's Hospital rooftop.
SH
He pauses for a moment, then adds:
PS. Got something
of yours you might
want back.
Sending the message, he tucks his phone away into his jacket and then turns back towards the bench, his eyes full of thought.
Some hours later, dawn is breaking. Sherlock and Vaness are still in the same place in the lab. They were sitting on a stool with Sherlock's feet up on the bench. He is rapidly rolling the rubber ball from side to side across the bench, his fingers flickering rapidly over the top of the ball. His other hand held Vaness'. They refused to let go of each other. Both were not sure if it was the last.
John has sat on a stool at a nearby bench and he has his head down on his folded arms, asleep. His phone rings. Lifting his head tiredly, he groans and answers the phone.
"Yeah, speaking." John said to the phone.
He listens for a moment.
"Er, what?" He asked shocked.
He gets to his feet.
"What happened? Is she okay?" He listens.
"Oh my God. Right, yes, I'm coming." He said.
He switches the phone off.
"What is it?" Sherlock asked.
Vaness acted worried, John would suspect if she wasn't.
"Paramedics. Mrs Hudson – she's been shot." John said.
"What? How?" Sherlock asked.
"Well, probably one of the killers you managed to attract ... Jesus. Jesus. She's dying, Sherlock. Let's go." John said.
He turns towards the door. Vaness stayed with Sherlock.
"You go. I'm busy." Sherlock said disinterestedly.
Vaness grimaced.
John turns back towards him, his face appalled.
"Busy?" John asked.
"Thinking. I need to think." Sherlock replied.
"You need to ...? Doesn't she mean anything to you? You once half killed a man because he laid a finger on her." John said.
"She's my landlady." Sherlock replied shrugging.
"She's dying ..." John said furiously.
He flails a hand in front of himself in utter disbelief at Sherlock's attitude.
"You machine." John exclaimed.
He looks down, shaking his head.
"Sod this. Sod this." He heads towards the door, but turned back to Vaness, "You stay here if you want, Vaness let's go." He said.
"You go hail a cab, I'll rush after you." Vaness ordered and John did.
He storms out of the room. Sherlock lifts his gaze towards the door. A moment later his phone trills a text alert. He reaches into his pocket and looks at the message:
I'm waiting...
JM
"Sherlock..." Vaness called him,
There were tears in her eyes.
"I'll miss you..." she said finally letting herself cry.
Sherlock embraced her and caressed her comfortingly.
"Shhh... I will too... stop now." Sherlock said.
He held her face, staring at her eyes.
"I love you Maxine." He whispered so only she would hear in the empty room.
"I love you too." She replied and kiss him.
They poured their emotion into the kiss. Holding each other close, theg didn't want to let go.
Eventually, they had to. It took everything for Vaness to let go and ran after John. She caught up to John just as a cab stops infront of him. And they get in.
"He didn't budge?" John asked.
"No." Vaness said quietly.
"Vaness, will everything be okay? Eventually?" John asked, needing an assurance.
"Eventually, it gets better with time." Vaness said, refusing to look at him.
Sherlock took a deep breath, he walks across the lab buttoning his jacket. He picks up his coat, opens the door and leaves the room.
On the roof of the hospital, daylight has come. Jim Moriarty – now back in a typical smart suit and overcoat and with his hair slicked back – calmly sits on the raised ledge at the edge of the roof with his phone in his hand while The Bee Gees' "Stayin' Alive" plays from it. He doesn't look at Sherlock as he comes onto the roof and walks towards him.
"Ah. Here we are at last – you and me, Sherlock, and our problem – the final problem." Jim greeted him.
He holds the phone up higher.
"Stayin' alive! It's so boring, isn't it?" Jim said.
Angrily he switches off the phone.
"It's just ..." he holds his hand out flat with the palm down and skims it slowly through the air level to the roof, "... staying."
He pulls his hand back and briefly sinks his head into it while Sherlock paces around the roof in front of him.
"All my life I've been searching for distractions. You were the best distraction and now I don't even have you. Because I've beaten you." Jim told him.
Sherlock's head turns sharply towards him as he continues to pace.
"And you know what? In the end it was easy." Jim continued.
Sherlock stops and folds his hands behind his back.
"It was easy. Now I've got to go back to playing with the ordinary people. And it turns out you're ordinary just like all of them." Jim said quietly, disappointed.
He lowers his head again and rubs his face before looking up at Sherlock.
"Ah well." He said.
He stands up and walks closer, then starts to pace slowly around the detective.
"Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get you?" He asked.
"Richard Brook." Sherlock said.
"Nobody seems to get the joke, but you do." Jim said.
"Of course." Sherlock replied.
"Attaboy."
"Rich Brook in German is Reichen Bach – the case that made my name." Sherlock said.
"Just tryin' to have some fun." Jim said in a fake American accent.
Continuing to pace around him, he looks down to Sherlock's hands and sees that he is tapping out a rhythm with his fingers.
"Good. You got that too." Jim said.
"Beats like digits." Sherlock commented.
"Every beat is a one; every rest is a zero. Binary code. That's why all those assassins tried to save my life. It was hidden on me; hidden inside my head – a few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system." Sherlock said his deduction.
"I told all my clients: last one to Sherlock is a sissy." Jim said.
"Yes, but now that it's up here, I can use it to alter all the records. I can kill Rich Brook and bring back Jim Moriarty." Sherlock saidgesturing to his own head.
Jim gazes at him for a moment, then turns away with a disappointed look on his face.
"No, no, no, no, no, this is too easy." He said.
He buries his head in his hands.
"This is too easy." He complained.
Lowering his hands, he turns back to Sherlock.
"There is no key, DOOFUS!" He screams the last word into Sherlock's face.
"Those digits are meaningless. They're utterly meaningless." He told him.
Sherlock can't hide the confusion on his face.
"You don't really think a couple of lines of computer code are gonna crash the world around our ears? I'm disappointed." Jim said.
He turns away and lumbers across the roof, making his voice sound moronic as he continues speaking.
"I'm disappointed in you, ordinary Sherlock." Jim said.
Sherlock looked confused then he remembered Vaness humming a tune.
"Oh." He said and Moriarty turned to him.
"Bach. Johann Sebastian Bach, Partita number one. The one I played." He said in realization.
Jim tilted his head slightly, "At least you realized your mistake."
"But then how did ..." Sherlock was interrupted.
"Then how did I break into the Bank, to the Tower, to the Prison?" Jim talked over him.
He turns and spreads his arms wide.
"Daylight robbery. All it takes is some willing participants." He said.
"I knew you'd fall for it. That's your weakness – you always want everything to be clever. Now, shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you chose a tall building – nice way to do it." Jim told him.
Sherlock has been staring blankly into the distance. Now he sounds bewildered.
"Do it? Do – do what?" He asked.
He blinks as it becomes clearer to him and he turns towards Jim.
"Yes, of course. My suicide." Sherlock said.
"'Genius detective proved to be a fraud.' I read it in the paper, so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairytales." Jim said.
Sherlock walks to the edge of the roof and leans forward, looking over the side to the ground below. Jim walks to stand beside him and looks over the side as well.
"And pretty Grimm ones too." Jim commented.
He turns his head and looks ominously at Sherlock.
221B.
A taxi pulls up outside and John and Vaness jumps out and hurries towards the door, scrabbling for his keys. Hurrying inside, John sees the tattooed bald workman standing at the top of his stepladder just in front of the stairs, drilling a hole into the wall. Mrs Hudson is standing nearby watching him. Vaness stopped at the doorway guiltily. John runs towards her, she jolts in startlement, having not heard his approach over the sound of the drill.
"Oh, God, John! You made me jump!" Mrs. Hudson said.
"But ..." John said staring at her in confusion.
"Is everything okay now with the police? Has, um, Sherlock sorted it all out?" Mrs. Hudson asked.
John stares for a moment longer and then it suddenly sinks in.
"Oh my God." He said softly, his voice full of horror.
He turns around glaring at Vaness and runs outside, looking up and down the street frantically. Luckily he immediately sees what he needs.
"Taxi!"
A cab begins to pull over on the other side of the road. John and Vaness chases across the road towards it.
"Taxi!" John repeated.
A man is standing at the side of the road having also just hailed the cab. As he leans into the front window to tell the driver his destination, John runs around the cab and pulls open the rear door, talking even as he scrambles inside.
"No, no, no, no, police! ... Sort of." John said.
"Oh, thanks, mate – thanks a lot!" The man exclaimed walking away angrily.
Vaness and John sat on the backseat.
"Okay explain yourself." John said angrily.
"John..." she started.
"What is happening?!" John asked furiously.
"I can't... I can't change this." She cried.
John softened when he saw her tears.
"I tried John! I tried. I talked to Mycroft. I tried." Vaness told him still crying.
John hugged her.
"You said..." John said with croaked voice.
"I'm sorry." Vaness told him, clutching him.
She was sorry, for lying. But she needed to lie. Her tears were not lies though, her heart was breaking for letting John hurt like this.
BART'S ROOFTOP.
The two men have turned towards each other at the edge of the roof.
"I can still prove that you created an entirely false identity." Sherlock said.
"Oh, just kill yourself. It's a lot less effort." Moriarty replied wearily exasperated.
Sherlock turns away, pacing distractedly.
"Go on. For me." Jim said.
He makes his voice into a high-pitched squeal for the next word.
"Pleeeeeease?"
In a sudden movement, Sherlock grabs him by the collar of his coat with both hands and spins him around so that Jim's back is to the drop. He stares into his face and then shoves him back one step nearer the edge. Jim looks at him with interest as Sherlock's breathing becomes shorter.
"You're insane." Sherlock said.
Jim blinks.
"You're just getting that now?" He asked.
Sherlock shoves him further back, now holding him over the edge. Jim whoops almost triumphantly and gazes back at him with no fear in his eyes, holding his hands out wide and committing himself to Sherlock's grasp.
"Okay, let me give you a little extra incentive." Jim said.
Sherlock frowns. Jim's voice becomes more savage.
"Your friends will die if you don't." He said.
Fear begins to creep into Sherlock's eyes.
"Vaness." He said.
"Not just dear Vaness." Moriarty said.
"John." Sherlock said.
"Not just them. Everyone." Moriarty whispered.
"Mrs Hudson." Sherlock said.
"Everyone." Moriarty said in a whisper, with a delighted smile.
"Lestrade." Sherlock said.
"Four bullets; four gunmen; four victims. There's no stopping them now."
Furiously, Sherlock pulls Jim back upwards to safety. Jim stares into his face.
"Unless my people see you jump." Jim said.
Sherlock gazes past him, breathing heavily and appearing lost in horror. Jim shakes himself free of his grasp and smiles triumphantly.
"You can have me arrested; you can torture me; you can do anything you like with me; but nothing's gonna prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only four friends in the world will die ... unless ..."
"... unless I kill myself – complete your story. " Sherlock interrupted him.
Jim nods and smiles ecstatically.
"You've gotta admit that's sexier." Jim said.
"And I die in disgrace." Sherlock said his gaze distant and lost.
"Of course. That's the point of this." Jim replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
He looks over the side and sees that someone has stopped at the benches near the bus stop below them, and several other people are in the vicinity.
"Oh, you've got an audience now. Off you pop." Jim commented.
He rolls his head from side to side on his neck.
"Go on." He urges.
Sherlock slowly steps past him and up onto the ledge.
"I told you how this ends." Moriarty said.
Sherlock's breathing becomes more shaky as he looks down.
"Your death is the only thing that's gonna call off the killers. I'm certainly not gonna do it." Moriarty said not even looking at him.
Now he turns his head and looks up at his enemy expectantly. Sherlock blinks anxiously.
"Would you give me ... one moment, please; one moment of privacy?" Sherlock asked.
He glances down at Jim.
"Please?" He said.
Jim looks disappointed that Sherlock should be so 'ordinary.'
"Of course." Jim said.
He moves away across the roof. Sherlock takes several shallow anxious breaths, then he stops breathing for a moment as his brain kicks into gear again. Slowly a smile spreads across his face and he starts to chuckle. Behind him, Jim is slowly walking away across the roof but he stops, his expression livid, when Sherlock laughs with delight. Jim spins around furiously.
"What?" Jim asked.
Sherlock continues to laugh.
"What is it?" Jim asked angrily.
Sherlock half turns on the ledge, smiling towards him as he glares back.
"What did I miss?" Jim asked again angrily.
Sherlock hops down off the ledge and walks closer to him.
"'You're not going to do it.' So the killers can be called off, then – there's a recall code or a word or a number." Sherlock said.
Now he's the one circling his prey.
"I don't have to die ..." his voice becomes sing-song "... if I've got you."
"Oh!" He laughs in relieved delight. "You think you can make me stop the order? You think you can make me do that?"
"Yes. So do you." Sherlock replied still circling him.
"Sherlock, your big brother and all the King's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to." Jim said.
"Yes, but I'm not my brother, remember? I am you – prepared to do anything; prepared to burn; prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell? I shall not disappoint you." Sherlock said stopping and getting into Jim's face.
Jim shakes his head slowly.
"Naah. You talk big. Naah. You're ordinary. You're ordinary – you're on the side of the angels." Jim said.
"Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that I am one of them." Sherlock said his voice becoming more ominous.
The enemies lock eyes for a long moment while Jim tries to deduce how far Sherlock will go.
"No, you're not." Jim said.
He blinks, then closes his eyes briefly. Sherlock does likewise in an unintentional mirror movement. Jim smiles and opens his eyes again.
"I see. You're not ordinary. No. You're me." Jim said softly, insanely.
He hisses out a delighted laugh and his voice becomes more high-pitched.
"You're me! Thank you!" He said.
He lifts his right hand as if to embrace Sherlock, but then lowers it and offers it to him to shake instead.
"Sherlock Holmes." He said softly.
They both look down at the offered hand, then Sherlock slowly raises his own right hand and takes it.
"Thank you. Bless you." Jim said nodding almost frenetically, though his voice stays soft.
He blinks and lowers his gaze as if blinking back tears.
"As long as I'm alive, you can save your friends; you've got a way out." Jim said.
He continues to blink with his gaze lowered.
"Well, good luck with that."
In rapid succession he raises his eyes to Sherlock's, grins manically, opens his mouth wide and pulls Sherlock closer while he reaches into his waistband with his other hand and pulls out a pistol and raises it towards his own mouth. As Sherlock instinctively pulls back, crying out in alarm, Jim sticks the muzzle into his own mouth and pulls the trigger, dropping to the roof instantly.
Sherlock stares in horror as blood begins to trickle across the roof underneath Jim's head. Jim's eyes are fixed and open and there is a smile of victory on his face. Sherlock spins away from him, his breathing noisy and frantic as he raises his hands to his head in horror.
Not far away and obviously unseen by Sherlock, a man trots up a staircase and then sits down on the stairs and begins to assemble a high-powered rifle. Meanwhile John and Vaness sits anxiously in the taxi on their way back to Bart's.
At 221B, Mrs Hudson gives a mug of tea to the workman who is squatting in the hallway. He takes it and smiles gratefully, and once she has moved away he picks up one of his tools and puts it into his toolbox. Lying on top of all the other tools is a pistol with a small silencer attached to it. He raises his eyes ominously in the direction of Mrs H as she goes back into 221A.
While the assassin on the staircase continues to assemble his rifle.
At Scotland Yard a plain clothed police officer in the general office looks round to Greg's office with his eyes narrowed as the D.I. speaks on the phone.
"Yes, sir, thank you. 'Bye." Lestrade said into the phone.
On the stairwell, the assassin finishes his assembly, opens the nearby window and aims his gun out of it as Vaness and John's taxi gets closer to Bart's.
On the rooftop, Sherlock breathes shallowly and rapidly, holding his sleeve up over his mouth in horror as he turns to look again at Jim's fixed grin. He thinks frantically for a while, then slowly turns towards the edge of the building. His breathing begins to slow as he steps up onto the ledge, blows out another breath and looks down towards the ground.
In the street below, John's taxi pulls up. Sherlock takes out his phone and selects a speed dial. The answering phone begins to ring below him as John and Vaness gets out of the taxi and John raises his phone to his ear as he trots towards the hospital, Vaness walking slowly behind him.
"Hello?" John said.
"John." Sherlock said.
"Hey, Sherlock, you okay?" John asked.
"Turn around and walk back the way you came now." Sherlock said.
"No, I'm coming in." John said.
"Just do as I ask. Please." Sherlock said frantically.
"Where?" John asked turning back and looking around bewildered, he saw Vaness standing behind him so he went there.
Sherlock pauses for a moment while John walks back along the road, then speaks urgently.
"Stop there." Sherlock said, just as John reached Vaness.
"Sherlock?" John asked.
"Okay, look up. I'm on the rooftop." Sherlock said.
John and Vaness turns and looks up, John's face filling with horror. Vaness tried to stop her tears. She looked back at John and all tears run down again.
"Oh God." John said.
"I ... I ... I can't come down, so we'll ... we'll just have to do it like this." Sherlock said.
"What's going on?" John asked anxiously, he turned to Vaness and held her close to him.
"An apology. It's all true." Sherlock said.
"Wh-what?" John asked.
"Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty." Sherlock said. "But Vaness never blackmail me you know that, tell her I love her." Sherlock added.
He looks around briefly at his enemy's grinning body lying behind him. On the ground, John stares up at his friend in disbelief..
"Why are you saying this? Of course she didn't blackmail you, she knows you like the back of her hand!" John exclaimed.
Sherlock turns back to look down at him. His voice breaks.
"I'm a fake." Sherlock said.
"Sherlock ... " John said.
"The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade; I want you to tell Mrs Hudson, and Molly ... in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty for my own purposes." Sherlock said his voice becoming tearful.
"Okay, shut up, Sherlock, shut up. The first time we met ... the first time we met, you knew all about my sister, right?" John said.
"Nobody could be that clever." Sherlock said.
"You could. Sherlock, Vaness knows every truth. You can't lie about this." John said pointedly.
Sherlock laughs and gazes down at his friend, a tear dripping from his chin.
"I researched you. Before we met I discovered everything that I could to impress you. It's a trick. Just a magic trick." Sherlock still insisted.
Vaness turned to look back up at Sherlock as she couldn't look at John. John has his eyes closed and is shaking his head repeatedly.
"No. All right, stop it now." John said angrily.
He starts to walk towards the hospital entrance. Vaness stopped him, she stood her ground so he couldn't pull her.
"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move." Sherlock said urgently.
John stops and backs up, holding up his hand towards Sherlock in capitulation.
"All right." John said.
Breathing rapidly, Sherlock has his own hand stretched out towards his friend, then to Vaness as she looks at him.
"Keep your eyes fixed on me..." His voice becomes frantic. "..Please, will you do this for me?"
"Do what?" John asked as he and Vaness stared at Sherlock.
"This phone call – it's, er ... it's my note. It's what people do, don't they – leave a note?" Sherlock asked.
John shakes his head, momentarily taking his phone from his ear as the stress of what he's beginning to understand hits him, he held Vaness even closer, then he puts the phone on speaker so she could finally hear.
"Leave a note when?" John asked, his voice was shaky.
"Goodbye, John, goodbye Vaness." Sherlock said.
"No. Don't." John said shaking his head.
Sherlock gazes down at his friend and lover for several seconds, then he lowers his arm and drops the phone onto the roof, gazing ahead of himself. John lowers his own phone and screams upwards.
"No. SHERLOCK!" John yelled.
Sherlock spreads his arms to either side and falls forward, plummeting towards the ground. John stares in utter horror. Vaness fell to her knees watching John. Then, suddenly, her senses warned her of an attack. She felt it in the air, she moved so quickly but the bullet still pierce through her shoulder with a bang. She fell to the ground.
"Sher..." John stopped at the sound of the gun and looked back at Vaness. She was on the ground.
"Go to Sherlock!" Vaness yelled.
John turned to see the body impacts the ground. John's hearing whites out as his entire body focuses on getting to Sherlock as soon as he can. Sherlock had disappeared from view towards the end of his fall because a building was in the way of John's view of him, and John now reluctantly left Vaness to run to the corner of the building, then slows down and stops in the middle of the road when he gets his first glimpse of the still figure lying on the wet pavement, the lower part of his body obscured by a lorry parked at the roadside.
The fourth assassin, the one who fired at Vaness, was about to to fire another shot when he was targetted by a shot straight to the head, on Mycroft's order.
As they were infront of hospital, a couple of real doctors went to Vaness immediately. Taking her and putting her on a stretcher.
Behind John, a young man on a fast pedal cycle slams into him and sends him crashing to the ground, his head hitting the asphalt hard. Groaning, he struggles to stay conscious while, nearby, people begin to run towards the body on the pavement. The lorry pulls away and a couple of medics from the hospital hurry out and start trying to prevent the onlookers from getting too close. Grimacing with pain, John rolls onto his side and looks across to the pavement where Sherlock is lying on his side with a lot of blood under his head. Slowly John hauls himself to his feet and stumbles towards him as more onlookers gather, talking excitedly about what they saw. John forces himself onwards.
"Sherlock, Sherlock ..." John said in a whisper.
He reaches the crowd.
"I'm a doctor, let me come through. Let me come through, please." John said.
Some of the crowd try to hold him back but he pushes through them.
"No, he's my friend. He's my friend. Please."
He reaches down to take hold of Sherlock's wrist, searching for a pulse. A woman peels his fingers off and she and another person pull him away. As he reaches towards his friend again, more medics arrive with a wheeled stretcher.
"Please, let me just ..." John said frantically.
The impact of the shock and the bang on his head begin to take effect and his knees give out. As he slumps to the floor supported by a couple of onlookers, two people gently roll Sherlock onto his back revealing his blood stained face and wide staring eyes. John groans in utter despair.
"Nggh, Jesus, no." John said.
He tries to stand but sinks back again.
"God, no."
As the onlookers support him, four people lift Sherlock's body onto the stretcher and then rapidly wheel it away into the hospital. John stares after it, his face blank and uncomprehending. He finally manages to get to his feet and shakes off his helpers, staring blindly in the direction that his friend's body was taken. He then looked behind him and saw Vaness being carried on a stretcher. He walked briskly to her.
"Vaness..." He said.
"Take me to him... I can still handle it..." Vaness told the ones carrying her.
They reached John.
"Vaness..." John took her hand.
"I'm fine. I will be fine, just my shoulder, that's two of us." She said, crying at John's state.
"Sherlock his..." John couldn't say it.
"I know..." Vaness cried.
The ones carrying her cleared their throats.
"Take her." John said.
DIOGENES CLUB.
Sitting in one of the chairs in the common room, Mycroft is holding a copy of "The Sun." Its headline screams "SUICIDE OF FAKE GENIUS" and the straplines state "SUPER-SLEUTH IS DEAD" and "Fraudulent detective takes his own life". Folding the paper and putting it down on the table beside him, he stares blankly into the distance and then folds his hands in front of his face in the prayer position.
221B.
John sits in his armchair, dressed but with his feet bare and tucked together in front of him. One hand is propping up his head and he gazes into the distance, lost and alone. Vaness comes in, dressed in her usual clothes, with her shoulder bandaged her arm on a sling.
TAXI.
John, Vaness and Mrs Hudson are sitting in the back of a cab as it drives into a graveyard. Mrs H is holding a bunch of flowers. Not long afterwards, they stand beside each other in front of a black marble headstone. The flowers are now resting at the base of the headstone.
"There's all the stuff, all the science equipment. I left it all in boxes. I don't know what needs doing. I thought I'd take it to a school." Mrs. Hudson said.
She looks at John and Vaness.
"Would you ...?" She asked.
"I can't go back to the flat again – not at the moment." John said.
"I'm sorry Mrs. Hudson." Vaness said, staring the the marble.
She takes their arms sympathetically.
"I'm angry." John said.
He takes a deep breath through his nose, trying not to break down. Mrs Hudson gently pats his arm. Vaness held his arm.
"It's okay, John. There's nothing unusual in that. That's the way he made everyone feel." Mrs. Hudson said.
Mrs Hudson gazes at the smooth black marble which simply bears the words SHERLOCK HOLMES.
"Mrs. Hudson?" Vaness asked and she looked at her.
"Yes dear?" She asked.
"Can you give as a moment?" Vaness asked.
Mrs Hudson nodded in understanding. She turns away, pulling her arm free of them.
"I'll leave you two alone to, erm ..." her voice breaks again, "... you know."
Crying, she walks away, fishing out a tissue to blow her nose. John looks down at the grave, drawing in a deep breath. He looks back over his shoulder to see that Mrs Hudson is now out of earshot, then turns back to the grave again. He looked at Vaness but she gestured to the grave sadly.
"Um ... mmm." He pulls himself together a little. "You ... you told me once that you weren't a hero. Umm ... there were times I didn't even think you were human, but let me tell you this: you were the best man, and the most human ... human being that I've ever known and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, and so ... There." He said.
He blows out a breath, whimpering slightly. Looking over his shoulder again, he walks over to the headstone and puts his fingertips onto the top of it.
"I was so alone, and I owe you so much." John said.
Vaness' heart broke on hearing it. She hated herself. John takes a tearful breath.
"Okay."
He turns and looks at Vaness before he turns back again.
"No, please, there's just one more thing, mate, one more thing: one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't ... be ..." his voice breaks and fills with tears, "... dead. Would you do ...? Just for me, for Vaness, just stop it..."
He gestures down at the grave, "...Stop this."
He sighs and lowers his head and stands there, broken. Reflected in the smooth marble of the headstone, his figure appears to have the name SHERLOCK carved directly across his chest. He lowers his head further, covers his eyes with one hand and weeps. Finally he wipes his eyes, sniffs deeply and raises his head, coming to attention in front of his best friend. Nodding in salute to him and giving himself permission to dismiss, he turns smartly on one heel and then walks back to Vaness.
"Your turn?" He asked.
Vaness instantly hugged him.
"I can't stay." Vaness whispered to him, crying.
"No, no, no, no, no." John said frantically.
They pulled apart.
"You can't leave me too. You can't." He said angrily.
"John..." she was interrupted.
"You never stayed for me!" John exclaimed, "You keep telling me that I'm your friend, but from the start it was all about Sherlock! The first time I asked you to stay you were reluctant. But with Sherlock's word you stayed. Why can't you do the same for me?" John asked, tears falling from his eyes at the fear of losing both his friends.
"John..." Vaness cried.
"Please, don't leave me." John said.
Vaness didn't know what to do. She didn't want to ruin things in two years for John, she wanted to go with her lover, but she didn't want to leave a friend.
"Can you let me decide that? Alone?" She asked.
John nodded, hugging his friend possibly for the last time. And he walked away.
Standing some distance away under a tree and obscured from view by other headstones, Sherlock Holmes watches his best friend walk across the graveyard until he disappears from view. He looks reflective for a long moment, then turns and walks towards Vaness.
"Coming with me?" Sherlock asked.
Vaness turned to him.
"And leave John?" She asked.
"Keep him safe for me. Keep your self safe." Sherlock said.
Vaness walked closer to him, memorising every single detail of him.
"I love you William Sherlock Scott Holmes." She said.
Sherlock rolled his eyes and smiled at her.
"I love you Maxine Valdez." He said.
And they kissed.
"I'll keep our John safe." Vaness whispered.
i decided to let her stay with john at the final second.