Chapter 38: A Massive Mess.

"You cannot live your life to please others. The choice must be yours, because when you step out to face that creature, you will step out alone."

-Linda Woolverton, Alice in Wonderland (2010 movie).

"I should have been able to put it all together. It didn't even occur to me. To check, to look, to make sure." Jim was pacing wildly, in a familiar way. John simply watched. He felt a little bit like he was floating, inside himself, separated from the world by his slow-moving thoughts.

He had called Jim several minutes after Sherlock left, managing to explain that the consulting detective was alive and shooting the snipers. Jim had taken less than two minutes get to the medical bay, despite the fact that he had been in the shower. He had taken John back to his flat, and called in the medical workers to keep an eye on Sebastian.

"But what happens now? That's the question, always the question. It would be easy to answer if it were just me, but now you're somewhere in that middle of the equation, and that's going to mess things up to no end, isn't it?" Jim gestured towards John, who was sitting on the couch with a blanket around his shoulders. Jim had given it to him; maybe he thought he was in shock. Maybe he was in shock.

John closed his eyes, forcing his thoughts into some sort of order. There had been a time, months ago, when all he was living for was the hope of that connection, that moment with Sherlock. That had been his only handhold, keeping him from turning his beloved gun towards himself and pulling the trigger. And now, now he didn't even know what to think. He didn't know what he felt, or what he wanted.

Only a few weeks ago, he had made a decision, to stay with Jim despite all the wrong that could come of it. He had felt that inside of himself, it was what he had wanted all along. But after this, he knew that everything had changed.

Or had it?

He still felt more alive by Jim's side than anywhere else in the world. He still felt a deeper connection with Moriarty than he ever had with Sherlock. He still didn't think that he could leave Jim, no matter what happened. If he started another World War one day, John would still be by his side, protecting him. It was just how it was, it was where he wanted to be. Finally living by the side of a killer.

Irony was everywhere in this situation. Life just didn't happen this way. People returning to life, people jumping off buildings, people stuck in a sort of love triangle that wasn't really about love at all, but need and want, kids being taken off the streets to join criminal organizations. This couldn't be reality, this strange world that John had reached, falling down the rabbit hole that was James Moriarty, or perhaps it was only his own mind. And yet. Here they were.

"I risked my empire," Jim said finally, sitting down next to John and pulling him out of his reverie with a jolt. "I risked my connections, and my life, and I didn't think it mattered, because nothing mattered. Things are different now, aren't they?"

"They are," John agreed.

"I want a happily-ever-after," Jim said, and John wasn't sure whether to feel amused or sorrowful, to hear such young words coming from the consulting criminal. "I never thought I could have one, but now I want one. I don't want to be M and Lock again, because we'd be fighting forever."

"Sherlock will never give up. He's a stubborn bastard," John reflected.

"Exactly. We'd fight until one or both of us were dead, for real this time, and that would be no fun for any of us."

"So…." John failed to see where all this was going.

"I don't know yet," Jim said. "Give me a few minutes and I'll have it, though." John got up and stood by the door, taking the position of guard as Jim closed his eyes and focused inwards, walking the hallways of his own mind, searching for a solution. The doctor did his best not to think or move, making the room a place for Jim to project his thoughts rather than receive distractions.

John turned his head to look at the criminal mastermind, who was sitting on the couch with his eyes closed. He looked younger, with his hair slowly drying at odd angles, and lips slightly pursed. Jim was a very light sleeper, almost hyper-aware of what was happening around him, even when he wasn't awake. His mind-palace, however (or whatever his equivalent was), took much more concentration on his part, as John had discovered, completely by accident, when he had tried to tell Jim something when he was thinking.

Slowly, he had come to understand that when Jim called him to his rooms at night, he wasn't just there as someone to talk at, he was there as a guard. He had never really told Jim what he had realized, but had brought a gun to the midnight meetings from then on.

Jim opened his eyes, and John looked away from him quickly, realizing that he had been staring blankly at the other man for several minutes. From the smile that Jim was wearing when John met his gaze, he wasn't unaware, but he didn't comment.

"I have an idea." John didn't like that expression; it was too mischievous for its own good.

"Am I going to like it?" he asked cautiously.

"Hard to say. But you're the main player, so I hope you will. Come on, work with me on this one. I know we can win if we play together. We're not going to kill Sherlock, we're not going to threaten him. We're going to talk to him, and then no one will die. Well, no one important. Not me, not him, not you. One conversation, and we're all set up to retire in a decade or two, and do whatever it is that retired people do."

"You, retire?" John asked skeptically.

"Well, mostly, yeah. Little house in the country. Or a manor in the city. Or both. Spend my time in both places. Maybe run a couple jobs, just from home, little things to make sure I've got money and the police don't get lazy. Just when I'm bored," he said, eyes distant.

"Sounds lovely," John said cautiously, and Jim's mind visibly snapped back to the present.

"But we're going to have to play this one last game, before it ends. Come on, it's going to work, I know it is."

"I can't-" John said, and then hesitated. A future that they both wanted, a happily ever after that he'd never expected, an ending that suited everyone. "We're not going to crush his spirit or burn his heart or anything, are we?"

"No. ...Maybe a little bit, but don't worry. Nothing that will send him back to the needle. I don't think you'd be very happy with me if he overdosed, would you?" John considered this for several seconds. Yes, he would probably be pretty annoyed, and as long as Jim knew that, it wouldn't happen.

"Alright. Alright, fine. What are we going to do?"

A/N: You guys are too good to me. Thanks for all the reviews. More are always appreciated, you know. Get me writing more, too. Seems like they benefit both of us, am I right? Yes, I am right. So... review!

We're getting close to the end, for the non-Johniarty people. 3 chapters left!

Sorry, K, I just wasn't in the mood for an A/N. But here's one now! I'm doing fine, of course. How 'bout you?

Dear Sophie, I said that it wouldn't be Johnlock, and of course I stand by that. And if you like this story, then go and find some top-favourited Johniarty, it's a fascinating dynamic and I'm certainly not the best fic out there. But hey, this update is dedicated to you, because I like long reviews.