Moriarty cocked the gun.
"Say good-bye Sherlock."
"John, remember what I said at Baker Street?"
"Yes"
"What was it again?"
"Lazarus is a go."
Moriarty stood confused for a moment, and then a shot echoed through the pool.
John fell backwards.
Sherlock ran to Hamish and started ripping the bomb off and in a moment discarded it in the pool.
Hamish clung to his father sobbing and his small hands gripping his jacket, face buried in his shirt.
Sherlock swallowed and tried to take in the situation.
He turned his head.
John lay on the ground and so did Moriarty.
Moriarty was cursing under his breath, His knee had be probably shot off. He couldn't run for sure but he still had a gun. Sherlock had a hunch he wasn't thinking about the gun.
Picking up Hamish he ran to John.
John ,eyes closed and head bleeding, was not dead.
Very much alive!
Moriarty had shot him, mind you but Sherlock calculated that when his snipers shot Jim, he would jerk up, and the bullet would just graze John. He was right of course but it would still hurt like hell. Sherlock leaned down and kissed his partners forehead and John opened his eyes. His pupils were giant, he probably had a concussion from falling straight back to the concrete floor.
"John?"
"hmmmm?" He groaned trying to sit up, he wanted to see Sherlock, he wanted to see Hamish, he wanted to hug and hold them both.
Police began to filter in, they had been surrounding the building the whole time. The police had over powered Moriarty's men before the mad man had even arrived. They had been the snipers all along. Sherlock and John hadn't known that part, they just hoped it was them. Otherwise the whole Lazarus thing would've been really embarrassing last words.
Lestrade hurried to them and dropped to his knees by John. "We got him , thanks to you too. How's Hamish?" they all looked at the child. He was shaking against Sherlock but he was safe.
They all smiled.