John desperately pressed the phone to his ear as he made a mad dash to the building. Although Sherlock had already hung up, he clung to the trace of what could be the last of Sherlock Holmes.

He was reaching the top of the stairs but even his military trained body fatigued. The emotional panic that had set in was draining him.

John then thought of the slash of black fabric whipping against the wind and adrenaline burst through his veins causing him to finally crash through the doors blocking him from the rooftop.

Sherlock spun around and panic set in. No. No no no no. It wasn't supposed to go this way! It can't go this way!

John stride forward, carefully stepping over Moriarty's still-warm body with his eyes locked only on Sherlock. It wasn't until he got to the ledge that he broke contact and stepped up next to Sherlock only to turn towards him and stare right at him again.

Sherlock looked into John's deep blue eyes.

He swore he saw the ocean that he lived near as a child. A time that was more peaceful, more innocent. He's always wanted to go back there someday, but his presence now would only taint the aesthetic purity that lingered there. Just like everything else in life he touched would leave a big black mark. Dirtied and destroyed. And this streak continues but ends with Dr. John Watson. The only person to stay around and put up with…well with everything. John Watson, the only man who ever cared, and he was writing him a death sentence.

John moved forward to close the distance between the two.

He was just so glad he had gotten to Sherlock in time and the wind blew tauntingly as John looked at Sherlock's tear-stained face. All he could read from it was apology. An apology for what? For the best past 18 months? For saving him from the torment of everyday life that droned without veracity and without spark? No, if he had anything to give to Sherlock that which was gratitude.

John shook his head and reached to cup Sherlock's face.

"Hello friend. I'm not going anywhere so no matter what your big head is deducing or analyzing in there you really just shouldn't try."

Sherlock smirked.

"Well I did think I'd give it a try. But you do always incessantly nag at me." Smirk fading and eyes turning to coal, Sherlock grabbed John's hands.

"I am truly very sorry. And it'll be dangerous—we might not come out alive."

Watson returned with a grin.

"Together or not at all."

And they were together now. And that was something neither had felt in a long time—then they jumped.