"Not particularly, Moran." Sherlock spat. "You've resorted to kidnapping now? It's obvious who the brains in your relationship was."
"You're right, a low tactic. But, it got you here. Which is all I ever wanted. You see, we ned to have a little chat."
"Oh?"
"Yup. See you took something from me. Something I care about...I can't let that slide. You understand."
"So you've come to kill us. Brilliant. You know, I didn't know snipers got this close to their targets."
"We usually don't but I figured this was a special occasion. I wanted a good view." He then pulls out a pistol and preps to fire it.
"I'd drop that if I were you." John boredly stated.
"Oh really, and why's that?"
"Because I've got a clean shot." a voice called from directly behind Moran. Greg Lestrade popped out with a pistol of his own, trained right on the man.
"You won't shoot." Moran goaded.
"Oh? Enlighten us." Greg responded.
"Well, since Mr. Holmes took out all of my comrades, it is true I don't have any back up...but then again, that means I also didn't have anyone else to tell the location of your brats to."
Sherlock began to laugh. Stoic, robotic Sherlock was guffawing like a madman.
"You really were nothing but a hired gun," he chuckled, gaining composure. "First, they're not mine. I could care less what happens to them. So there's that. Second, you honestly believe we don't know how to shoot and not kill you? I'm pretty well versed in getting information out of unwilling subjects, and if not me then my brother will gladly take over. Finally, you've stated yourself that you're alone. What's o stop us from just making you talk here and now?"
"I had a feeling you'd be like that, so I brought an extra incentive. See this?" he asked slowly pulling out a small remote. There are explosives linked to this location, their location and other places around London. If my heart rate drops below a certain point, well...'boom', as they say."
"You absolute monster!" John gasped.
"Now now, Captain, flattery won't get you anywhere."
"What do you want, Moran?"
"Really? You're really asking me that? What I want you can't give me, but instead I'd like the lives of the Dynamic Duo over here."
"Sorry, that's not an option. Anything else?" Greg calmly asked, cocking his gun.
"Oh, well...I guess world peace is out too." Suddenly Moran whipped around and disarmed Greg, shooting him in the process.
"Greg! GREG! NO!" John yelled racing over to his fiance. In his mad rush, he didn't see Moran take aim for him, he didn't hear the gun until it was too late.
Bang.
A shot was fired. But John felt no pain. He opened his eyes to find Sherlock standing with his arms spread in front of him. Suddenly he dropped to his knees, then finally met with the ground.
"NO! Sherlock!"
John looked down at the two men lying on the ground before him. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real. He couldn't go through this again...
He dropped to his knees and hung his head. He waited for the final shot. The one that would end all of his misery. Then, the memories of his boys flashed in his mind. No, he had to live on. He had to find a way to fight on. He had to get his boys back. He had to...
Bang.
Another shot was fired.