WARNING HEAVY DEATH POSSIBLY TOO GRAPHIC FOR SOME Please enjoy.

It was dark outside, the only light from street lamps and the police cars. Occasional lighters, and then cigarettes or cigars, lit up the darkness. As well, light inside the building would turn on or off, like someone was leisurely searching through them. The room where the woman in the pink dress had stood upon the railing stayed lit up the whole time.

Lestrade had a report made up about the possibility of who was in the building. Yet none of the photos of the people who were supposed to live here, in the apartments, had matched any of the women.

Sherlock and John had looked through them all but even Sherlock couldn't say he'd seen any of them.

Lestrade had been busy trying to locate any of the people for the last few hours, growing concerned at the large number of missing people. Sherlock wasn't worried.

"If they had killed them they would have left the bodies out. They have for every other murder. Either their alive or they're dead inside the building. We can only wait until your men go inside." Sherlock explained himself in an emotionless way and John couldn't blame him. The amount of lives missing was staggering but there was nothing they could do currently with so many lives hanging in the balance in front of them.

Sherlock and John were leaning against a cop car, a hot cup of coffee in their hands to help keep them warm, cutesy of Anderson. They hadn't spoken about John's outburst towards Moriarty and that was fine with John. He probably couldn't explain himself if Sherlock had asked anyway.

"It's been an awfully long time since Moriarty went inside." John commented, looking up at the building, sighing.

"Yes, it has. I wonder what they have to talk about. Moriarty isn't one for chit-chat." John turned and smiled at Sherlock who smiled back. Regardless of the officers around them, Sherlock leaned forward and brushed his lips against Johns. Taking the hint, John kissed him outright before he could pull way. Sherlock touched his cheek gently, smiling against the doctors lips. John sighed happily as they pulled from one another.

If anyone had seen their attentions to one another, nothing was said. All the better for it because neither man would have cared. Just as John was about to lean for another kiss, more warning than the coffee, he heard a heavy thud.

Sherlock stiffened and John looked at his face. His eyes were focused on something just to the side of John and he was terrified to look. Almost as if in slow motion, John turned. Midway to turning, a scream shattered the silence in the air. Another heavy thud shook through John's being.

Upon the ground, in front of the building, lay two bodies. Lestrade yelled for a light and almost a dozen lights shown upon the ground. A woman wearing a pink, flowing dress lay on her back, her features barely screwed up, blood starting to pool under her head. Next to her was the woman John had seen at the door when he forced Moriarty in.

Lights shown upwards, catching another woman thrown over the edge and spiraling downwards. She landed, half on top of the woman in pink, a heavy thud going straight through John. The woman had been thrown, but she hadn't screamed. The one who screamed was an officer, who was quickly followed by a few others as a fourth body was thrown to her death.

"Moriarty," Sherlock breathed and John tore his eyes from the bodies and looked upwards just in time to see the spycho throwing another woman over. He had a twisted smile on his face as he spun around back into the lit room.

"Dear God," John breathed back, feeling shivers start to enter his body as policemen started pulling an inflatable towards the drop zone. John wasn't sure they'd be able to save anyone by how long they were taking. It all depended on how many were in the building.

John felt Sherlock behind him, wrapping strong arms around his waist. Another thud, followed by a scream as Moriarty's laugh filled the air, another thud followed. John heard Lestrade yelling for the workers to pick up the pace, hurry, hurry, hurry.

It seemed like hours passed, which was closer to five or ten minutes, before the cops finally got the inflatable set just right, having moved the bodies as quickly as possible. Sherlock and John had stood off to the side, letting the officers work. One officer had thrown up the contents of whatever he'd eaten or drank the last few hours right on the street.

"It's going to be okay." Sherlock said against his ear. John felt every drop as if he was being stabbed. Sherlock's voice wasn't steady at all, leading John to believe the man actually felt sorry for the women.

After three more women were dropped, Moriarty's laughter having stopped when he realized the inflatable was saving the women, the whole thing seemed to stop. The light went out and no more noise happened. The three women who'd been dropped were unconscious from a hard blow to the head. It was pointed out that the other women possibly had been unconscious when thrown over as well, resulting in a less-than-horrid feeling in John's stomach. At least they hadn't known they were to die this way.

Officers swarmed into the building, ready for Moriarty who had just committed mass murder in front of them. Others stayed behind and moved the three surviving women to an ambulance. Sherlock eyed the ground, seeing blood and bits of grey matter in the lights shinning down.

After waiting a few minutes, the lights shut off, darkening the deep blood stains on the pavement. John was thankful for this. Lestrade had headed the raid into the building and so Anderson stood by them, waiting for any word.

Sherlock felt his phone buzz and he gave an apologetic look to John who nodded his understanding. He stepped away two and a half steps and looked to his phone.

They tried making me take their blame. JM

Sherlock starred at the text for only a few moments before his phone rang again.

I'll see you soon. Take care of the doctor for me. JM

Sherlock licked his lips, deciding to not show Anderson the texts. He showed back up to John's side and smiled at Anderson, a grim pull of the lips.

"Moriarty is gone." Sherlock said and John pinched his lips together, believing the man before it could even be confirmed.

"How do you know?" Anderson asked, more curious than threatening.

"He just committed mass murder. Would you stick around?"

"No, but where would he go?" John wondered aloud.

"The system that had fallen was possibly due to the women committing all the murders. They probably attempted to infiltrate his system. Now that all but three are dead, seemingly, the system must have pulled itself back together. He's been gone since the light went out in the room." Sherlock grabbed John and started walking away from him. Anderson spun, confused.

"Wait, he wasn't the killer?"

"No, these women were. They were trying to frame him."

"Really?"

"It's obvious, Anderson." And with that, Sherlock walked John home.