[Sherlock]

The scene before me was horrifying.

I'd often rejected the idea that I cared for my brother, and completely denied any notion that suggested otherwise, but this was really pushing even my limits.

A reasonably large crowd had gathered round the corner from the Yard to watch with both horror and fascination what was going on atop a low, hastily constructed stage. There were already police officers surrounding the abomination, attempting to keep the crowd at a safe distance, and trying in vain to access the stage, but they were held off by the promise of a shooting match with the group of men who currently occupied the area, whose guns were pointing into the crowd. All wore black combat gear and sunglasses which would have made the whole scene quite cliche and a bit humorous if not for the set-up in the centre of the stage. My brother was knelt, still bloody from the car accident only twenty minutes ago (it felt like so much longer), and it looked as though he was probably in pain, but he was managing to keep his face expressionless.

Next to Mycroft stood a man who looked vaguely familiar, but I was unable to place where I'd seen him. He reminded me of Moriarty, with his dark hair and a manic, slightly insane-looking grin plastered on his pale face. Like the men he surrounded himself with, this man also wore sunglasses, but was also wearing a navy suit to stand out. There was a small black gun nestled in his right palm, which he was so very casually holding to the side of Mycroft's head, much to my horror and fury. My brother looked to be unfazed by the situation he now found himself in, but I knew from past experience this was not the case. His eyes gave him away, as they were slightly wider than usual and filled with an overpowering sense of fear, knowing his life could end at any moment. I didn't blame him.

We had come to a halt when we had first arrived at the scene, but Lestrade seemed to finally snap out of the trance he was in, and began to move swiftly towards the group of Yard officers already by the stage. I decided to heed Mycroft's prior warning, and put my hood up so it mostly covered my face before following after the DI. We reached the officers at approximately the same time thanks to my longer strides, and I continued to watch the man on the stage for any sign of aggressive movement. He really did look familiar, and I wondered again where I had seen him. Was he one of the criminals I'd helped put into prison? It seemed likely considering what he was doing, but something in my gut was telling me that I wasn't correct in that assumption. So who was he?

Greg had been quietly talking to a female officer, and though I hadn't been listening I could tell they had some information that I did not have, and they were uncertain as to whether to share it with me at this present moment. It annoyed me, but I knew trying to get it out of them would only make them back off even more. Instead, I caught Mycroft's gaze, and his eyes managed to widen even further when he recognised me. He shook his head, trying to tell me to leave the scene, but I narrowed my eyes and shook my head right back at him. I wasn't going to go anywhere while his life was in the hands of a complete stranger who was most likely insane. After a couple of moments, he gave a small sigh and an apologetic look which I didn't really understand.

All these secrets were getting on my nerves, and just made me all the more determined to find out exactly what was going on. Luckily, I didn't have long to wait.

At that moment, Lestrade stepped forward into the direct sight of the man on the stage, who swapped his creepy smile for a more satisfying smirk as the two locked gazes. The man stood up straighter as the DI moved closer, and he seemed to be expecting him, as he waved away his security when they tensed at the oncoming visitor. I hung back but moved slowly closer to the stage, blending in to those around me.

"This. Ends. Now." Lestrade growled, and I was surprised at how forceful he sounded, but more importantly, how informally he had decided to address the man. This led me to believe that they knew each other well, but how? Lestrade wasn't one to go round befriending criminals, and especially not criminal masterminds like this man appeared to be. Although, I had to question this man's logic, surely he could see the flaw with coming out here in the middle of a crowd to reveal himself? Not always the smartest move.

Then, he spoke.

That voice... I definitely knew it. It was different somehow, and that made it more difficult to place, but I was certain I'd heard it before. It was quite high pitched, but it sounded as though he was putting it on, his voice was definitely not that high usually.

"What ends, Greg? Mycroft's life? Well, he does deserve it, and since you insist..." The familiar stranger grinned again and clicked the safety off the gun causing everyone watching to stiffen in anticipation.

"Please..." Lestrade had resorted to begging, his authority having no effect on this man.

The man regarded Lestrade for a moment thoughtfully, before chuckling quietly to himself. "Beg. Beg for this son-of-a-bitch's life. And maybe if you do, I won't kill him. Yet." He said, cocking his head on one side and I saw Greg go pale.

After a couple of moments Lestrade let out a deep and very defeated sigh. He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath before lowering his head in either shame or submission, it was difficult to tell which.

"Please. You know it's not right, what you're doing. It wasn't Mycroft's fault what happened. Or Mrs Hudson's." He wiped a stray tear at the thought, and I felt myself go cold as I realised exactly what he was saying. "You need to stop this right now, let Mycroft go and we can talk about this. This isn't you. The man I knew would never do anything like this!" Lestrade's voice had risen to an almost hysteric level as he fought so hard to remain calm and controlled, but was failing miserably. I began to move towards him, and soon I was just a few feet behind, no longer caring about being seen.

The man rolled his eyes. "Ugh, Greg. Don try to talk to me about any of that bullshit. We both know exactly what happened. In case you don't remember, I was there." He turned and looked disgustedly down at my brother as he said this. Suddenly, a change came over him. His body stiffened, and he bared his teeth in what looked like barely-concealed fury. I immediately recognised what he was going to do, and as he raised the gun I sprinted up to the stage, hoisting myself up and tackling him to the ground just as the gun went off. We both went sprawling to the floor, and I sat up and looked around at my brother to check he had not been hurt. He looked positively horrified, and I couldn't understand why. I turned back to the man I had just tackled and stopped, completely unmoving as I really saw him for the first time.

His glasses had fallen off upon his impact with the ground, and now I could see his whole face. His completely familiar face that I had seen so many times that I had memorised it, detail for detail. His bright blue eyes, usually so full of life and joy were now dead and empty, but still far too recognisable.

Suddenly everything made sense.

The guilty look my brother had given me.

The worry and regret on Lestrade's face.

The whispers.

It. Was. John.

"John..." I murmured, and he too froze as he finally recognised me.

"Sh-Sherlock?" He asked.

I could only nod.

Was that a good enough reveal? I wanted to add as much drama as possible, hope you enjoyed it! Please keep up with the lovely reviews, they mean so much to me, and I appreciate every single one! Next chapter should be up on schedule tomorrow night.