It is with a heavy heart that I sit at my computer to write down the final case I ever shared with my best friend, Sherlock Holmes. When I first began to write down our adventures it had been my intention to leave out this particular tale. I wished not to mention this particular event, that has left such a hole in my life these nine months. However, in light of his name being cleared and myself feeling I can now tell his version of events, I have to decided to write his last case, exactly as they occurred. Many have speculated on what might have happened but very few people in this world, truly know the full and correct version of events. Which is why it is left to me to explain what really took place between one James Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes.

That seemed an adequate beginning to John. It had taken him almost an hour to type. He wasn't sure why but typing out just the introduction had left him feeling emotionally drained. He knew what was to come, what he would eventually have to write. He only hoped he did it justice, him justice. There were some parts he knew could never write, because he had not been there. But he did have Sherlock's phone recording, so there at least he could explain what happened during his friend's last moments.

It had taken him nine months, twelve days, twenty hours and thirty minutes for him to have the courage to write out Sherlock's last case, badly titled The Reichenbach Fall. Because in John's mind there had been two falls. Sherlock's fall from grace, thanks to the media, Moriarty and Scotland Yard, and Sherlock's more permanent descent. Sipping his tea, he took a deep breath and continued typing.

"Seb?"

"Sebby?"

"Sebtacular?"

"Sebalicious?"

"Seb-Seb?"

"...Sebastian?"

"What?"

"My video footage come yet?"

"On the table."

"Finally!"

"Don't get your hopes up, I heard on the grape vine that he got rescued."

"You know I can't hear you when you have a ciggerette in your month Seb darling"

"You know I only answer to one name"

"Honey? Darling? Dear?"

"You're an idiot"

"But you love me anyway"

"God no"

Later Sebastian could hear Jim's gleeful laughter as he watched the consulting detective cowering in a corner crying Dr. Watson's name. They had doped him up on the drug used in Project H.O.U.N.D, Jim had obtained it personally from one of the original manufacturers. He considered it a worth while investment. Sebastian wished he would pay this much attention to his dwindling empire. Jim was fraying at the edges, obsessed even more with Sherlock Holmes. Hopefully it would pass. Soon. But at least the money was good. And he was strangely fond of the psychopath.

Molly and Irene had been staying with the Holmes brothers for three days now. Sherlock seemed to change very little. He still wore his pyjamas every day in lieu of regular clothes. Molly speculated that this is because they were more comfortable on his injuries and that Sherlock had always been somewhat of a lazy person. Today however it was chilly, the fireplace in Sherlock's room didn't seem to warm him very much. Which was why he was currently wearing the hoodie Molly had brought him. It brought it's own warmth to Molly's heart to see him wear it.

The four of them were together in Sherlock's bedroom suite. Mycroft sitting on the couch reading The Lost World, Irene and Molly were playing canasta. Sherlock sat in his usual place, arms folded against his chest, legs folded by his side. Mycroft had changed the dressings just that morning. It was never a pleasant experience for either of them.

"Now that you're back in London..are you here to stay Sherlock? Will you reveal you're alive?" Molly looked up from her cards, the thought suddenly jumping into her mind. Sherlock looked to Mycroft, with a slightly hopeful expression in his eyes. But he knew the answer. He couldn't reveal himself until the whole empire was down and he and his friends safety were assured. So he wasn't surprised to see Mycroft shake his head.

"It is not yet safe. For him, for them or for the two of you. My men are good at their jobs but not as quick as you, unfortunately. It may take several more months. The rest of Asia must be swept clean of his empire, as will South America, the United States as a few strands of his web and then finally, England itself. However hopefully, Sherlock might like to deal with the portion of the web himself. Once he is better" Mycroft looked to his little brother, offering him this gift. Sherlock pondered it for some time before giving a short nod and went back to his sky viewing.

Molly looked sad. "Thats too bad, John would love to see you." Sherlock shook his head. "John think's I'm dead." Molly smiled. "That doesn't mean he wouldn't want to see you. I wish you could let him know you're alive." Sherlock sighed deeply. "I did tell him, he just didn't pay attention." Mycroft put down his book, Molly's mouth fell open in surprise, Irene simple smirked.

"I thought I explicitly told you not to tell anyone! And this was your opinion also!"

"Relax Mycroft. I told him but I disguised it. Thats the best way to hide something. It's hidden in plain sight. But I guess he didn't see through it. Doesn't matter, I still kept my promise." Sherlock although very quiet, soft spoken and not himself, had begun to speak more since Irene and Molly's arrival.

"Well, you better hope no one else discovers it."

"If they did it would mean nothing to them."

"You better hope so"

Few words may suffice to tell the little that remains. Expert analysis of his phone proves the recording was real. My best friend sacrificed his life to save myself, Mrs Hudson and the Detective Inspector. It had taken months for his name to be cleared and in the end it was by the hand of my closest friend. He cleared his own name, as he should. My heart is eased only slightly by making a clear statement on his career and our last adventure.

I shall forever regard him as the best and wisest man I have ever known and I will always believe in him.

John's head fell into his open palms, finally letting loosing the tears and emotion that had been threatening to fall during these long hours of writing. It was done, he had finally written about his best friend's death. But it didn't make him feel any better. He had been forced to relieve those terrible moments again and again. And now it was written down for the whole world to see.

"Why are you crying Uncle John?" Lily's hand found his own, John jumped in surprise, wiping his nose with one hand and squeezing Lily's with the other. "Just thinking honey. Just writing a story and thinking."

"Thinking makes you cry?"

"Depends on what you think about."

"A story? About Mr Sherlock?"

"Yes honey" He pulled her into his lap. "His last story. The one that made him a hero. I'll tell it too you one day when you're older. It's not for some children's eyes to read. But I can tell you another story? It's got ninja's and comic books in it?"

"Oh yes please!"

"Very well. The Geek Interpreter it is"

A/N: Should you desire sneak peeks at possible future plot points, I might be happy to oblige in PM.