With Jim Moriarty lying motionless, cold and dead, Sherlock stepped over the edge, disappearing from view. Then the rooftop was silent.
Sebastian Moran ran through jostling crowds, everyone was flocking around the pavement outside St Bart's, shocked at their fallen angel, or fraudulent detective. One or the other, or both, he knew Moriarty had succeeded.
Standing away from all the passers by, he placed a call to his master. No answer. He waited a minute, maybe he would text back. But after no response, he rang again. He was anxious at the dull ringing, no one answering.
Moriarty had taken a gun that afternoon. It was out of character; he normally had someone else doing the shooting. He didn't like getting his hands dirty...
Now, Moran looked up at the top of the building. He knew he wouldn't see anything from where he stood. One last call, before he worried. The call wasn't cut off, but left ringing. Moriarty's ringtone would be playing out loud wherever he was. He would have answered it if he could.
He skulked through the wards and corridors of the hospital, busy in some places, deserted in others, he went unnoticed. He made it to the top floor, heart racing as he pushed to go up onto the roof.
Sunlight glared in his eyes for a moment before he could adjust. He called the phone again, looking around. Staying Alive sounded cheerfully from opposite where he stood, and he finally found him.
Dark blood seeped from beneath Moriarty's head, eye's light brown in the light, blankly gazing up. His last laugh was still on his face, but he felt as cold as ever.
Moran fell to his knees beside his lifeless body."Jim!" he shook his shoulders, "Jim, what happened, how are you dead?"
The gun held limp in his hand clattered to the ground.
"No, no, why do this to yourself? Just to beat him? Because you were bored? We could have found a new game for you, why?" tears started to roll down his hardened emotionless face.
Slightly repelled by the display of emotion, but intrigued to see another side of his...companion, Moriarty let his facade go. A slow grin spread on his face, sitting up "Now now, my dear. Where's the fun in dying?"
Fury coloured his face "You...!" he growled.
"There's always a new game to play for us, don't you worry. Daddy's not going anywhere without you."
He wasn't pacified by this, now embarrassed for letting himself cry "I thought you were dead!"
"Oh, you know, I'm so changeable. Being the same, sticking to anything, committing to be dead... Boring!" he laughed.
Moran took the gun, holding it tightly "Play with all the other little victims, but don't do it to me." he smashed the grip into Moriarty's jaw, knocking him down again. Shocked, he scrambled up, fake blood dripping on his already ruined suit. Angry at being struck against, he kicked him, then punching him in the face until he was pulled over by his ankle.
They glared at each other for a moment.
Moriarty spoke first, in his gently mocking tone "You cried over me, Sebastian, I never thought you cared!"
"You know I do. It wouldn't kill you to be serious for once."
"I'm always serious, my dear." he smirked.
"No, you're always playing games. Looking for a bit of fun. But these games... play them with me, but not against me."
"Sebbie, I didn't mean to scare you- Oh!" he sang, appearing unaffected by his upset before he found himself being cut off. 'Sebbie' took his face in his hands, not at all gentle, his short nails digging into his jaw "Apologise, and mean it. You are not untouchable... my dear... I should know, even you have a heart to be burnt."
He watched him, looking into his cold grey eyes. "Of course. You know me more than anybody, don't you? You understand... well, more than anyone alive now." he glanced at the edge of the building.
"But I know you in ways he didn't. Are you really sorry?"he whispered.
"It's a rare occasion, you see, I am... sorry. No joke, my love, I didn't mean to upset you so deeply." he tried not to smile.
Knowing that he would not get any more sincere, Moran accepted this, releasing his face and putting his muscular arms around his neck "Congratulations on that little victory down there."
Pecking his lips gently he nodded "Yes, it was rather fun while it lasted. Love to watch them all dance for me."
Kissing him back, he pulled away "Ugh. Fake or not, I think I'd prefer not to have your blood on my hands, Jim, shall we find a way down?"
They stood up, and risked a look over the edge, to see the commotion below had died down.
"Where to?" Moriarty asked, slipping his hand into Moran's back pocket.
"Providing my Moriarty is real, and not some dull actor pissing about on kid's TV, we're going home." he put his arm around the shorter man's shoulder.
"Oh, very imaginative. So ordinary, straight home at the end of the day. I suppose you want us to sit on the sofa watching whatever bland programme you pick."
"I'll find away to make things fun for you, don't worry." he ran a hand through his cropped blond hair "I'll occupy your far from average mind."
"We'll see."