John's P.O.V.

He stood there for almost four hours before doing anything at all. He watched his brother die and said nothing, felt nothing. He had fifteen minutes to say goodbye before they pulled the plug and that's when it happened. He wrapped his arms around his brother, apologising for everything he had ever done to him. He refused to let even one tear fall. He muttered 'I love you Mycroft' over and over again. Two nurses came in and he nodded. Kissing his brother on the cheek, he said goodbye and turned away. I watched sadly as they took away the only thing really keeping Mycroft Holmes alive.

The finished and pulled a white sheet over Mycroft's head before leaving as soon as the door closed, Sherlock glared fiercely at the wall. He leaned up against it, anger swelling in his eyes. He took a shuddering breath and suddenly started to punch the wall as hard as he could. Between grunts of anger he somehow started to cry, before throwing one last punch and falling to the ground. An utterly heart breaking sob came from him as he went from angry, to scared, small, sad, and alone.

He looked at me, unsure of what to do. It was hard seeing him look to me for help. Especially since his first pick of help was lying motionless under a sheet. I held out my arms in an open invite for a hug, unable to do anything else. He swiftly fell into them, allowing his hidden tears to fall. I knew I couldn't compete with Mycroft, no one ever could, but I'd do my best to make sure Sherlock was okay and safe.

"I'm here Sherlock. Its alright. I've got you," I whispered into his ear.

"I want to die John. I want to die. I just want to die. Please kill me John. Kill me in the worst way you could possibly think of. Please John. I want to die. I need to die. Please kill me," he begged, silent sobs shaking his body. "I don't deserve to live. I killed my own brother. It's my fault. I need to die. Please John, please. I have to die before I kill someone else."

I had always said I would do anything for my best friend, but this is where I drew the line. I would not kill him. I could not kill him. He should've known this. And he did. But he did not care. He wanted to die. He thought he deserved to die and it was a lie. No one deserved death. Even when Moriaty had shot himself, he had not deserved death. Sherlock Holmes was no different. And I refused to even allow the thought of killing him cross my mind.

"I can't kill you Sherlock. This is not your fault and you deserve death even less than your brother did. It wasn't right for whoever did this to do it. But we'll catch them, I promise. Just don't die. We will catch who killed your brother, just stay with us. Please."

Sherlock wiped his eyes gently. "You don't understand. Mycroft is gone. I killed him. I'm the one who had the antidote instead of him. I want to die. I deserve to die. Please kill me. Please kill me however you want to."

"No Sherlock. You don't. I won't kill you. No one who is a half decent friend will kill you. I'm sorry Sherlock," I shook my head.

"Fine then," he said with slight anger in his eyes, "I'll kill myself."

He rushed out of the room and I knew where he was going. I called Lestrade and started to go after him.

"John? What's wrong?"

"Lestrade! The roof now! Sherlock is going to jump!" I shouted at him.

"I'm coming!"

"Hurry! We don't have long!"

I clicked the phone closed and continued to chase after Sherlock.

Sherlock's P.O.V.

I knew they were following me. I didn't care though. I asked John to kill me, and he said no. So I would have to kill myself. What better way than to jump off that rooftop for real this time?

I stood there pleased when I heard the door open and them rush out. They stopped when they saw me standing on the ledge. John start to move forwards, but I stopped him.

"One more step and I will jump," I hissed at him.

"Sherlock please. Don't do this. The world needs Sherlock Holmes."

I spun around, facing them, but not leaving the ledge. "The world needed Mycroft Holmes too! The world needed him more than they need me! I needed him! I need him still," I whispered, silent tears starting to fall.

"Please Sherlock. I didn't know your brother as well as you did, but I do know this is not what he would've wanted. Even if you don't do it for me, do it for Mycroft. Mycroft Sherlock. He's the one who came for you in Serbia. He'd do anything for you Sherlock. He loved you. Just don't jump. Please Sherlock. We'll get you help, we'll figure out a way to avenge your brother's death, but trust me when I say this. Suicide is not the way. I know. I've tried it."

He rolled up his sleeves and I gasped. There were scars all up and down his arms, and he started to carefully trace them.

"When you first jumped, I didn't know what to do. So I did what I thought was best at the time. I started to cut myself. I didn't know any better. I just knew it made my pain go away for a while. It worked, until it didn't. One day, the first entire year of you being dead, I cut to much. Mary found me lying on your fake grave, bleeding to death. They put me on suicide watch, and even then all I could think about was disappointing you by trying to take my life. You always have found suicide dull, so why attempt it now? You must listen to reason. I know what it's like to loose someone close to you. It's hard and depressing and sometimes you do just want to give up. But that isn't the way to go. Mary had told me over and over that you wouldn't want me to kill myself. Sherlock, Mycroft wouldn't want you to kill yourself. Please. Come down with us," John begged.

A sob passed my lips. "I can't. I killed my own brother. I deserve to die. Please let me die John. Please," my vision started to blur.

Down below the London streets were starting to warm up as the sun rose slowly. Traffic was getting thicker, and as much as I wanted to jump it was just to big of a risk. I slowly stepped off the ledge walking towards John. I pressed my lips together in a thin line and reached into my pocket pulling out the handgun John had on him earlier.

A confused, frightened look crossed his face. "Sherlock, don't do this. This won't solve anything. Please Sherlock."

"Goodbye John."

"No! Sherlock don't!" he yelled as I put the gun to my head. "Sherlock!"

I closed my eyes, about to pull the trigger when John shouted something stopped me in my tracks.

"Before you do this Sherlock, do remember that a great man once told me that my life wasn't mine. To keep my hands off it. I thought I could trust this man. But as it turns out, I can't."

Looking away, I let the unshed tears fall freely. "Well I'm sorry you made that mistake," my hands started to shake.

"Sherlock Holmes don't you dare pull that trigger."

Hello! I wasn't planning on updating for a day or two more, but then I got this thing called 52 reviews! I can't believe it! The amount of support I've received is amazing! Thank you so much! It means a ton to me! I've hoped you enjoyed and please review!

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PFT221B