He knew. I knew he knew. He must have figured it out by now at least. I knew he would be absolutely itching for something with which he could occupy his racing mind. The man that never misses one detail would miss me. We had grown so symbiotic, hadn't we? Relied on each other, really, like an old married couple. Honey could you make some more cases for me to solve? he would say. I'm killing as fast as I can! I would reply with a sigh in my breath and a smile on my lips.

We must have been couple of the year, he and I. We both faked our deaths; both knew the other had faked too. Two creatures of the same mind.

Mine was, however, slightly better trained than his, I'll admit. It was stronger. He hadn't figured out I was alive until much after his whole fall charade. I knew immediately that he hadn't really done it. With an ego and a sense of self-righteousness as large as his, why would he kill himself? He was London's sole savior. The deaths of three people or thousands, the choice had been simple, even for him.

I was actually quite surprised he hadn't noticed sooner that I was alive; or if not Sherlock, who was wrapped up in trying to make his death convincible, at least John. Surely they should have noticed that all the newspaper headlines lacked one crucial key: two bodies, one splat all over the ground and one with his brains blown out on the roof. But the poor actor Rich Brook couldn't even land a role starring in his own obituary, I'm afraid.

Now let's use some Sherlock Holmes deduction. Two people are on a roof. One shoots himself in the head. The other jumps from the building. Both men have died, but only one is mentioned in the newspaper.

Maybe it's because one famous detective was much better known than the actor that would take any job he could find. Then again, the actor gone newspaper informer had remained faceless to the public, thus leading the police to identify the body as that notorious crown jewel thief. Surely London's greatest hero and villain perishing at the same place would have made some catchy headline. So what other possibilities remain?

So then maybe the police never thought to check the roof, where the lifeless body lay. Sherlock's body was on the ground, after all. But then again, wouldn't the roof of the hospital be the first place they'd look? If I recall correctly, most police do love to make a big deal out of a mere suicide. They like to try to find scuffmarks on the ledge or certain bruise patterns on the victim's body to somehow try to make it into a murder that they can solve. So surely they would have seen the second man's body when conducting their investigation on the roof.

That brings us to our third option. Our final option, really. The only way the headline of the year wouldn't have plastered the front page of every magazine and newspaper in the nation: the man on the roof wasn't really dead. He had simply got up and walked off. There was no article because there was no body. I had really hoped people would have caught on quicker.

I couldn't count on Sherlock to find me out for a while because I knew he'd be locked in his own mind. I had hoped that at least John would have caught on. I suppose I overestimated him. He was smart, but ordinary.

Ordinary people get so wrapped up in their own lives. If it doesn't directly affect them, then it doesn't concern them. They will ignore all the facts if it means they can remain within the comfort of their own lives with the people they already know. Empathy is dead, but I'm not.