Chapter 9: His Days Shall End~
Finland slept in the ashes of the sky, or so the snow that fell ,soft as angelic tears, now felt. The sky itself hung grey as a smoke stained veil, of a bride forever lost, 6 feet under ground.
The sun began to set, and as that day ended, it felt as if the End of All Things had come.
John Watson stood alone, surrounded by trees, that's branches were lifted in the cold wind from yet further North than where he stood, and they shook their ice bound branches, and they rattled like chains, and the wind howled, like the souls in Hell.
There in the middle of the softly swirling snow, with trees that loomed like mountains, bowed accusingly over him, stood Sherlock.
The evening sun unrolled ,like a wave to the Sea of Eternity, and a light ,a warmth from a better place begged him to come away into the Night,... to escape.
He stood somewhat stooped, exhausted like Time itself, the note with the 7 names in his pale hand. His darkness was made all the more dark by the brilliant white about him, so dark was he that he seemed to glow with shadow, which was self-contradictory, and yet John's eyes did not lie.
A wisp of blue scarf was lifted by the wind, and John stopped walking, to look, to catch that blue, as it was painted against this ultra-white-gold canvas of moment.
There it was, like the last wisp of color, like the last thread of his very being that remained in existence. Sherlock. His friend. The scarf was a reminder...
" I have already solved our little puzzle, Doctor Watson." said a quiet voice, as if he were talking to no one at all.
John didn't answer, just let him talk.
"The contest has a prize ,of course. I had already pieced that together, oh,while you were sleeping...The Mistress and the Eagle, they think they are above their peers, so they count themselves as above them, having the numerical value of One and Only in their own minds. If you add One and Only to One and Only you get Two. Apparently ,no one is indispensable to the plan of the King. This Greater Scheme...yes, he did very well in ensuring he would have a kingdom forever. The 7 other contestants, conspired to use the Mistress and the Eagle's egos against them. If you look their 7 initials spell the word A-N-A-R-C-H-Y. Anarchy 1+1=2...
A-N-A-R-C-H-Y +2. It's the name of their prize, how they have already decided to bring about their reign in Terror. It's a serum, much like the ones that released from the ground in Baskerville, a fear inducing hallucinogenic, that they mean to release world-wide. This "contest" is just their diversion, a means to distract us from the real problem. Of course..."
Silence, almost hopeless silence, fell, and the wind howled, and there was a hissing in the ice above, like a mocking voice, telling Sherlock to get back in his grave.
And then Sherlock spoke again, surrendering the note to the wind, blue scarf beating like a wisp of eternal flame from out of his spirit, in the wind about them.
"So easy...All of this...Puzzles and things. And terror, and torment...Dying ,...torture...was far too easy, when you were the one I died for...Only one thing isn't utterly boring. Only one puzzle doesn't make any sense...There's only one riddle that I cannot solve, try as I may..."
He turned,and in the sunset scarlet, that caused the snow to glare ultra lightning-white, John saw that there were silver tears,running in two frozen streams, down his face.
"You..."
John felt his breath catch in the cold wind. He had never seen such a vulnerable look on his friend's face before. It alarmed him.
"John..." Sherlock began, voice steady and stoic as always, expression unreadable now, but not as deceptive as he intended it to be, not with tears frozen on his face,no way to hide his eyes ,I fear.
"The kind of man you are...Great man that you are...You...could have any life you wanted, any life at all. Could have made a new one. One with a wife, and a family. One with a home, not a cheap flat in the rougher end of London...
So...why the hell?...are you still here with me? You see what I am like now...you always knew, always saw...Darkness in me. But you stayed. And now...now that you are free...that I set you free by dying, John...
Why? Just...just leave this behind you..." he gestured to the Winter. "All of this...the Wars...the betrayal...the Death. The Pain... Everything that was the world of Moriarty, a world I helped him create, just by existing...Just by playing his Game...Let it go. All of the people who were part of that old life John, are gone. I am dead and the connection-whatever it was that drew you to the man that you met in St. Bart's mortuary-whatever drew you to your lab instructor long ago...that man, and the boy before him, are gone forever. I am never coming back, John. Whatever was appealing to you about that kind of life, it's over now...But if you go down this Dark Road...with this Dark Man that I have become..." For the very first time, John saw something that looked like regret in Sherlock's eyes,
"There is no knowing what sort of horrible things could happen to you...Because I am only getting darker,John...and there will come a day when the days of the man you remember will have a firm and lasting end, and you won't even be able to recall him any more. You will be lost in that Dark, with THAT man, John, and he is a very cruel man. A merciless ,heartless, soulless man, more really a walking rack of bones...
So,...tell me...why do you stay? This is your chance,...your very last chance. Walk away..."
John stared at him, mouth agape, totally unable to process what he'd just heard.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, with a tiny shake of his head.
Sherlock opened his mouth to explain himself better, but John shook his head, twisting his lips fighting the urge to cry again. Tired of crying, tired of dragging his heart behind him. Tired of letting Sherlock take the Fall.
"Or rather...who are you talking about? Because...when I look at you...I only see my best friend... The man...that died for me." John was laughing softly now, besides his tears, that he just couldn't fight.
"The man that was tortured to keep me safe, and God knows!-" he was walking closer to him now, shaking his head, chewing at his lips.
"The man...that gave me a home, when I was so alone...The man I owe so much. The best and wisest man...that I have ever known... "his voice fell to a whisper...
"The man that couldn't lie to me if he tried...The Miracle Man that came back from the Grave to me... To make me believe all over again...
You...the best man...And whether you believe it or not...this other person? This dead, dark person...that you may feel like right now...his days will end...He'll get back in his Grave, and you'll get better...You'll survive...because that's what you do. You end the Wars you start, and live to walk away. I've seen you do everytime...Lazarus..."
Sherlock let out a shudder,as John reached and took him by the shoulders.
"You are more amazing than you could possibly imagine. You're not a monster...you're not a zombie...you're not any of the names that people have called you, or that you might feel. You are Sherlock Holmes. The Greatest Detective,and very best man,that ever lives."
"Lived..."Sherlock whispered.
John pressed a fist into his chest. Both of them could feel his heart beating against it.
"You feel that? As long as that-" he beat his fist against Sherlock's chest ,to mimic the heart within it, "Still beats, then you are ALIVE. Lives. Not "lived". And even when you were covered in 6 feet of dirt...you were always alive to me. And here's the answer to your riddle...so let it rest in peace. I stay...brother!...because I love you. Sorry if that isn't a clever enough result to the biggest puzzle out of all the ones you've solved...but that's the only reason, the only answer that I've got...And I'm not going anywhere. Won't take one more step, or one more breath, without you being in whatever world I end up in. Dead or alive,Sherlock, I want to be part of the world you are making..."
Sherlock had a look of utter bafflement on his face.
"I...could stop them...from releasing this serum. If I solve for their locations, hunt them like I did all the rest, ...I can...change the world..."
"Of course you can...you will too, I know you will..."
Then John took Sherlock into a fierce embrace, and held him as close as he possibly could, feeling his heart beat seeming to grow stronger, as the Darkness came down like a midnight blue curtain, and the world got ready to set the stage for whatever the next day brought.
"And I'll be right here...to see it done. Straight on till morning..." John whispered, as flashlights ignited in the dark, and the others drew near.