Sorry I've taken ages to get around to continuing. More Mycroft in this, I find his character quite interesting. Obviously this is a deviation from Sherlock's path in the fall, but it kind of includes some of how I think it was done… Leave a comment

Chapter 10

My army ruck-sac falls to the ground and I steady myself on the door frame feeling the darkness that I was desperately trying to run from creep back into my soul.

"Talk to me now Mycroft."

"You must promise to listen to my reasons John. You must understand."

I whip round to study his face and see an unnatural panic in his eyes.

"Oh God. Tell me the truth now Mycroft."

He swallows hard and gingerly lowers himself down on the edge of the hotel room bed, his long white knuckles squeezing the ornate umbrella handle.

"I knew he was going to jump John. It was planned meticulously with the help of Molly Hooper. The fact that Moriarty shot himself enabling us to use his body as a decoy for the 'fall' was pure luck. Although I'm sure Sherlock would argue that there is no such thing as luck."

"You…You're saying that Moriarty died up on that roof? That can't be right; they found no trace of a death up there."

"Well they wouldn't would they. Molly took Moriarty's body down to ground level along with the mask he had in his pocket and waited in the back of the open-top laundry van that had been acquired. I had a team clean up on the roof."

"Mask? What….. mask? I don't believe this."

"Try to think John, really. Have you not thought how it was that Moriarty was able to kidnap those children from the boarding school and have them believe it was Sherlock? I read the notes from the Yard. That little girl screamed her head off when Sherlock went to question her. A very clever game on old Jim's part don't you think? Moriarty had a very high spec mask made of Sherlock's face."

I snarl my last warning of impatience. "Mycroft wherever you're going with this ridiculousness get there quicker. I have a flight to catch."

"John. It wasn't Sherlock's body on the pavement. He jumped alright, but his was not the hand you grasped at the end. It was Jim Moriarty's body with the mask upon his cold features."

I feel like I'm about to be sick. This can't be happening.

"But I saw him Jump Mycroft. I watched him, called his name. He told me…. He said goodbye to me."

"That he did John. That he did. But you didn't see him hit the ground did you? I know you were conveniently knocked to the ground yourself. Think about it. Was Sherlock very specific about where you watched him from? He did jump from that building, only it was timed so that he would be swallowed by the laundry van parked on the pavement. A supposedly soft landing of sorts. Molly then rolled out Moriarty's body from the same laundry vehicle, having ensured earlier that his wounds would match Sherlock's fatal fall to the pavement. Sherlock was correct she really is one to be trusted. Moriarty of course passed for Sherlock. I'm afraid you were our ultimate test John. If we didn't fool you, we wouldn't fool anyone."

I feel dizzy, the adrenaline sending my heart in to all kinds of strange rhythms. I couldn't make sense of it.

"But, I felt his hand. I saw his face. It was Sherlock." My words sound slow as if uttered by someone else.

"You saw a man that was made to look like Sherlock. Don't punish yourself John you were emotional. Did you not think it was strange how quickly those medical personal arrived with the trolley to take him away? And how they did not wish you to get too close to your friend clearly in the last throws of life with next to nothing that could be done for him?"

"Stop this."

"Didn't my brother ever share with you his rather loyal band of irregulars and down-and-outs? In London you can pay people to do most things John, did this whole game not teach you that? They were just actors with a role to play, as was Sherlock and indeed as were you. Don't be mistaken though, he jumped for you, you were correct in that. There were men with their weapons trained upon you with orders shoot if Sherlock didn't jump and forfeit the game."

I raise my head a little from where it now rests against the sturdy door frame. Trying my best to remain standing, the words stick in my dry throat.

"Oh god, my god he is isn't he? Say it. I need to hear you say it this second. He's alive isn't he?"

He stands from the bed and adjusts his suit in the mirror so that he may reassemble his armour and reconstruct the layers leaving me to sink to my knees.

"John. You must listen very carefully to me now do you hear? We had argued, my brother and I that afternoon. He had told me of his plan and set it up with Molly and his homeless network. He knew that Moriarty wouldn't stop until we was dead, or worse, disgraced in your eyes. The instructions were that I came to get you as soon as the jump had taken place so that you could be taken to Sherlock and you could leave London together if you so wished. Sherlock felt your reaction had to be believable."

He pauses for a second to glance at me with a hint of pity.

"Jumping into the hospital laundry van was always a massive risk but you know my brother, he believed he could calculate it correctly. Once in the back of the laundry van he was to attend to any injuries with Miss Hooper and then you were both to leave."

"You didn't agree with the plan did you? Please just tell me where he is."

"John. There are men still out there who will stop at nothing to complete their boss's orders, even with that man no longer existing. I told Sherlock that I wanted him to stay dead for a while with no lose ends to trace. He stood a good chance then of finding the rest and making them pay. I don't know the exact nature of your relationship with my brother, but he made it clear that wasn't an option without you. My brother often suffered with distraction believe it or not John and I'm afraid I saw you as just that. He was emphatic that you were to know the truth and I could tell that he couldn't bear the thought of leaving you. "

"I need to see him. Please."

"I'm afraid I've indeed kept him from you John. I went against his plan. I know now that this was a mistake."

"Just tell me he's alright."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. Sherlock's jump went quite wrong. He was rather….emotional and I assume it made it difficult to calculate where he was to land. It was always a difficult gamble. Do you recall it skulking away from the devastation? I was supposed to come and get you no matter what. But I didn't. I went against his wishes thinking it for the best. And now…He's comatose John. Severe damage to the brain they tell me. They have advised me to…..turn him off. Help me John. I don't know the right course of action."

I had gotten him back and lost him again all within a few minutes and my inner most protection mechanisms were saying I hadn't the strength to say goodbye a second time.

Seconds of silence pass as I try and process this new information. Christ, that empty coffin, empty grave. I had spilled my heart out to that grave.

"When you had me drugged a few days ago and taken to your estate. That was him that you had in the room down the hall. They were all medical staff weren't they? You let me believe it was Moriarty you were holding. "

He doesn't answer, instead walking slowly to where I'm knelt on the carpet trying to keep a grasp on consciousness. He looks down at me, eyes displaying an embarrassment and confusion at such a physical outlet of emotional state. He should count himself lucky. It could just have easily tipped into me strangling the man. God I need to see his face again. He'd done this for me.

He slowly rolls up his sleeves whilst observing the mess that lies at his feet and places his hands underneath my arms to stand me. I let him, watching from the celling where my brain had taken up residence.

"Come along John. I need you to compose yourself if I'm to take you to see him."

To be continued…..