"Sherlock left some loose ends when he-. Anyway I've been clearing them up for him." If that was true, then I supposed this would be the last loose end. Sebastian Moran, the last of Moriarty's web. He hadn't been easy to find, after all, with me killing almost a third of the organization within 6 months of Sherlocks passing, and Mycroft using one of his agents to kill another third, he'd gone into hiding. Really far into hiding.

But there I was at last. Standing there, with Sebastian Moran tied to a chair. In the basement of a building scheduled for demolition later that afternoon. It was satisfying, I won't lie. It felt damn good. And this time, there was absolutely no chance of him slipping away. The only reason he'd managed before was because Mycroft's agent getting emotional and therefore giving the target a chance to escape.

I wasn't going to kill him. No. Not just yet. I needed him to look me in the eyes first. I needed him to tell me why Sherlock had jumped. I'd asked this of every bleeding target I'd hunted down. None would say, or rather, none of them could say. Apparently, The Ally, as I'd taken to calling Mycroft's agent, hadn't gotten any answers either. I knew that it had something to do with snipers. That much was clear. Moriarty had been fond of those. He used them in the Great Game, on me and Sherlock in the pool, and a few other times. But who were the targets? Who could Moriarty have possibly targeted to make Sherlock literally fling himself to the cement and crack his head open. Can you tell I was pissed as all hell at him?

Ah. Moran was starting to waken.

"Good morning Mr. Sebastian Moran." He jerked his head up, looking around wildly searching for me, eyes unfocussed from the head trauma. Blunt object to the back of the head. Bleeding and severe concussion, recovery-time; around 4 months, if treated at a hospital. I wasn't planning on getting the bastard to a hospital. I stood in the shadows, I just wanted to watch him squirm for a little while before revealing myself.

"It's the afternoon, or night, depending on how long I've been out." He was reverting back to simple concepts to try and clear his head and get his bearings.

"In our current Beijing, sure, but not at home. In London, it's going on 10 in the morning." I stepped out of the shadows as I spoke. Moran breathed in sharply.

"Oh God, it's you." He chuckled slightly, starting to shake his head before stopping, wincing almost imperceptibly.

"Oh, and who were you expecting?" He looked up at me, with almost... was that pity? I drew myself up to my full height, stalking towards him and glaring as I said, "Who were you expecting, Moran?" He chuckled again before answering.

"Who else? Sherlock Holmes." My heart didn't even falter. I'd heard people tell me that he was the one they expected.

"Sherlock Holmes is rotting in a grave, 2 meters below the surface." This time Moran did cringe fully, not trying to repress his surprise at my description of my best friend, and the acid coating my words. What could I say? I was tired, and I was angry. I was so beyond sadness at this point. I was tired of hunting down an entire bloody crime syndicate in my free time. I was just so very, very angry. At Moran, at Moriarty, and most of all, the bastard himself who decided to leave me behind. I continued on, "And the only reason you're not joining him at the same sea level is one thing, and one thing alone." My voice was cold. I was a soldier again, a Captain. No more the Doctor, and very little of the Good Man left.

"Oh, and what would that be?" He was wary, and his suspicion showed in his voice. Good.

"You, Sebastian Moran, are going to tell me something that all your predecessors couldn't. Why it is that Sherlock Holmes threw himself to the ground?" I paused. When Moran simply glared, I continued, "And if you tell me this one thing, if full mind, then I'll turn you into the police."

Moran snorted and retorted, "Well you sure are giving me one hell of a lot of incentive to agree aren't you? Why should I tell you a single goddamned thing?" I grinned, and Moran instinctively tried to get away from the pure malice and cruelty of that smile.

"Sebastian," I said tauntingly, "I have no real desire to kill you, I 'd like to believe that I'm still the good man I started out as. But you see, I honestly detest you, and if I don't kill you, then I'll just have to settle for seeing you rot behind bars all of your life. And since you are the last of your organization," I cut off his retort, "You will be there for life."

"All right fine!" Sebastian growled out at me, "I'll tell you, not like he can do anything to me anymore, and you are that good man," On those last two words he sneered with derision, "So why the fuck not?"

I settled back, stepping back a few paces to make him feel less threatened and to make him relax.

"How much do you know, Watson?" I tensed, that was the first time he'd said my name so far. People only did that sort of thing for emphasis, or when they knew they were going to say this all along. What are you planning? I wondered.

"I know that it must have been something to do with snipers. Something made Sherlock jump, and it had something to do with snipers. That's all I know. Oh, and before you ask, I have asked every damn one of you snipers this question, they said they would die before they answered. Considering I don't have an answer yet, you can guess what happened to them."

He just grinned, then continued, "Moriarty tempted Sherlock with the thought of a code, In a world of locked doors, the man who holds the key is King. And honey you should see me in a crown. That's what Moriarty said."

"Yeah, I know that bit." I interrupted, motioning my hand for him to hurry up.

"Well, that's why Sherlock led Moriarty onto the roof, he thought he'd figured out the code. Only there was no code." He smiled at that.

"Yes, I know, we figured that out, inside jobs."

"Oh, so you know more than I expected. Mycroft?" He asked genuinely surprised.

I snorted and replied, "Lestrade, actually. He was a friend of Sherlock's too, and he needed something to focus all the anger at."

"Interesting. Anyway, the long and the short of it is that Moriarty needed Sherlock to commit suicide for his image to be tarnished beyond all repair, so he used the one weakness Sherlock Holmes had against him to make him jump." I sighed, not enjoying his attempts to be enigmatic.

"Yeah, yeah, cut the dramatics, what weakness?"

He huffed before answering, "You've referenced before that Sherlock Holmes had a heart, and you were right. So, Moriarty pointed his snipers at the three people he held in it."

"Moriarty threatened Sherlock's friends? I thought he was supposed to be smart!"

At this Moran glared and snapped, "Well it worked, didn't it?"

I took a sharp breath before growing out, "Who did Moriarty threaten?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He was actually surprised!

"Just answer the damn question."

"You. You, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson in-fact."

"And if he didn't jump, the snipers would shoot. But there had to be a code, a code word or something that Moriarty used to call them off. They couldn't all be watching Sherlock jump. Why didn't Sherlock get the damn code!" My voice worked it's way up from a quiet whisper to a demanding shout, as I paced forward so that I was towering above Moran.

"Moriarty killed himself before Sherlock could get the code from him!" Moran shouted back, slightly panicked at the frankly unhinged look in my eyes.

I leaned back and smiled, "Thank you, for your cooperation." I walked forward more, walking around Moran, who twisted his head around to try and follow my movements. "You've been so helpful."

"You said you wouldn't kill me! You said if I talked I wouldn't have to die!" Moran was honestly terrified and I couldn't care less. I simply smiled a smile that didn't reach my eyes and cocked the gun in my hands. Sherlocks gun.

"Yes, and you said I was still a good man, but I haven't been a good man since the man I-" Well what was the harm, he's gonna be dead soon anyways, who the fuck will he tell, "Since the man I loved took a swan dive. To save my life according to you. Good-bye Sebastian Moran." My voice as cold as a glacier for that last sentence, I disengaged the safety and shot one warning shot. Into his head.

The last loose end left by one Sherlock Holmes, officially tied up. My posture sagged, the anger mixing with the sorrow in my body, and I allowed myself to feel the exhaustion and guilt that Moran's explanation caused. A choked sob forced its way passed my throat, and before I knew it, I was kneeling on the floor, with my head in my hands, sobbing my bleeding heart out.

He did it for us. For all of us. He killed himself for me. And I never said. He cared that much, and I never told him I loved him. That thought only made me cry harder.

After a good long while, I left the building, texted Mycroft to send a clean-up crew, and allowed myself to breath deeply for the first time in 1 and a half years. For the first time since Sherlock's death. Maybe, just maybe, I could start to recover. But I knew I'd never care for someone the same way again, nor would I leave Baker Street. I would never forget him, and even if I was ready to start to try to forgive him, God only knows how long it's gonna take.

My favorite chapter nice and pwetty. I love this chapter I really do. I thought it would be more interesting if John was the one to end Sebastian Moran, instead of Sherlock. Review if you liked it, tell me if there's anything else you'd like to see me change.

Everything goes to ACD and BBC, but I do love to play with there characters.

Next Chapter: The Sentiment