Right. After a long hiatus, I've finally gotten around to post Reichenbach Falls. Apologies for the big delay, and special thanks to moriah93ohio, without whom this might not have been written at all, and thanks to everyone who as faved and followed and read who served as a huge motivation. From what I've heard of the new season, rewriting the episodes won't be as natural, meaning that this will probably end up being the final part. Enjoy!

Reichenbach falls

1.

"'Boffin'. 'Boffin' Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock tosses the paper on the couch table in contempt as he walks by and starts pacing.

John picks it up with mild interest and start to look through it. "Everybody gets one"

Sherlock has started pacing. "One what?"

"Tabloid nickname... 'SuBo', 'Nasty Nick'. Shouldn't worry, I'll probably get one soon."

Sherlock doesn't even look up as he recites: "Page five, column six, first sentence." He walks over the deerstalker on the mantelpiece, picks it up and punches it in frustration. "Why is it always the hat photograph?"

Meanwhile, John has discovered his nickname and has stopped perusing to study it more closely. "'Bachelor', what the hell?"

Sherlock doesn't listen, as his full attention is turned to the offending hat. "What kind of hat is it? Is it a cap? then why has it got two fronts?" He grabs the hat by the fronts and turns it back and forth, trying to understand it.

John looks up briefly to humor him. "It's a deerstalker." Then he turns back to the paper, slightly scandalized. "'Frequently seen in the company of bachelor John Watson.'..."

Sherlock stays focused on his own problem. "Stalk a deer with a hat?"

John looks at Sherlock again, this time to address his own topic with mild amusement. " And you're not a bachelor, is there something who haven't told me?"

Sherlock doesn't listen. He is busy practicing a throwing motion. "What are you gonna do, throw it? Is it some sort of death Frisbee?"

"'Confirmed bachelor John Watson.' What is this, 1912?" John glares at the page for a moment, then shakes it off and turns to Sherlock again. "All right, this is too much, we need to be more careful".

"It's got flaps. Ear flaps, it's an ear hat, John!" Sherlock throws the hat to John in a final fit of frustration, then switches over to the other subject at hand. "What do you mean more careful?"

John holds up the hat. "I mean, that this isn't a deerstalker now, it's a Sherlock Holmes hat." He tosses it on the table, patience slipping away. "I mean that you're not exactly a private detective anymore". He holds holds his thumb an index finger to each other. "You're this far from famous."

Sherlock is less than interested. He drops into his chair. "It'll pass"

But John won't give up so easily. "It better pass. The press always turn, Sherlock, and they'll turn on you"

Realizing that he isn't going to give up, Sherlock drops his hands to the armrests, turns to John and gives him is full attention. "It really bothers you"

"What?"

"what people say"

"Yes"

Sherlock frowns in confusion. "About me. I don't understand, why would it upset you?"

John stops in his tracks, trying to figure out a way to explain this. After a second, he decides to make it simple for Sherlock. He offers a small smile, slightly amused at his obliviousness. "Sentiment, Sherlock."

Sherlock blinks. "Oh." He looks away, smiling.

John gets up, walking over to stand by Sherlock's chair. He clears his throat, getting back on topic. "Just try to keep a low profile." John runs his hand through Sherlock's hair and his voice softens a bit. "Find yourself a little case this week. Stay out of he news."

Sherlock only smiles in reply.

2.

The journalist isn't going to let Sherlock get away so easily. As he walks towards the door, the blocks his way out. "You and John Watson, just platonic? Can I put you down for a 'no' there as well?" Sherlock flinches almost imperceptibly and takes a step back with a vaguely disgusted sigh, while Riley presses on."There is all sorts of gossip in the press about you. Sooner or later, you're going to need someone on your side. Someone to... set the record straight" She slides a business card into Sherlock's breast pocket.

Sherlock hasn't moved a muscle, but he's clearly not impressed. "You think you're the woman for that job, do you?"

Riley drops some of her charm. "I'm smart. And you can trust me. Totally"

Sherlock is having none of it. "Smart, investigative journalist then. Okay, good. Look at me and tell me what you see." He takes a step back, giving her a better view of him. "If you're that skillful you don't need and interview, you can just read what you need." When she doesn't reply immediately, Sherlock launches into an analysis of his own. "No? Okay, my turn. I look at you and I see someone waiting for their first big scoop, so that their editor will notice them. You're wearing an expensive skirt that's been rehemmed twice, only skirt you've got that's posh enough for a representative job. You're focusing on my private life, presuming I or for that matter anyone else is going to care about what the press says about my personal relationships. I see someone who is hungry. I don't see smart, and I definitely don't see trustworthy, but I'll give you a quote if you like, three little words" Sherlock takes Riley's recorder and holds it to his mouth. "You. Repel. Me." He hands the recorder back to her, then turns on his heel and leaves.

3.

Having shown John files on some of his new neighbors with violent professions, Mycroft sums up his demonstration. "In fact, four top international assassins relocated within spitting distance of 221B. Anything you care to share with me?"

John chuckles cynically. "We're moving?"

Mycroft's eyes narrow in an attempt at hiding his amusement. "Wouldn't help. Not hard to guess the common denominator, is it?"

"You think this is Moriarty?"

"He promised Sherlock he'd come back."

"If this was Moriarty, we'd be dead already."

"If not Moriarty, then who?"

John contemplates this for a second before changing tracks. "Why don't you talk to Sherlock about this?"

Mycroft looks away, turning to his glass while trying to look distracted

"Oh god," John shakes his head in frustration. "don't tell me..."

"Too much history between us, John. Old scores. Resentments."

John looks at Mycroft with mock sympathy. "Nicked all your smurfs? Broke his action man?" John laughs at him. He puts away the files and stands up to leave, but Mycroft won't let the matter drop so easily.

"We both know what's coming, John. Moriarty is obsessed. He's sworn to destroy his only rival."

John has turned back to Mycroft. "So you're telling me that we're on our own because he won't accept your help?

"Thank you for understanding"

John realizes he's not going to win this one. He gives Mycroft a barely noticeable nod before walking out.

4.

John hangs up. "Seems you've still got some friends on the force. It's Lestrade, saying they're all coming here right now. Queuing up to slap on the handcuffs. Every single officer you've ever made feel like a tit, which is a lot of people.

There's a knock on the door and Mrs. Hudson comes in, halting just past the doorway. "Sorry, am I Interrupting?" Getting no reply, she goes on. "Some chap delivered a parcel, I forgot." John takes the parcel from her. "Marked perishable, I had to sign for it. Funny name, German. Like the fairy tales."

Sherlock gets up to get a closer look at the parcel as John opens it. There's a ginger bread man inside it. "Burnt to a crisp"

The door rings, and lights are flashing outside. Mrs. Hudson walks off to get the door. John stands on his tiptoes to kiss Sherlock's cheek before going after her.

Sherlock dresses as voices drift up from downstairs; Mrs. Hudson protesting the invasion and John demanding a warrant. He's still protesting as the police are handcuffing him moments later, while Sherlock himself remains calm.

"It's all right, dear"

"No it's not all right, this is ridiculous."

Lestrade glances at John, but chooses to ignore him. He orders his colleagues to take Sherlock downstairs, which prompts John to try to talk him out of it. Lestrade is having none of it, however, and stops John before he's able to make his point. "Don't try to interfere or I shall arrest you too."

Facing verbal assaults from both Donovan and the super intendent on top of all this is enough to provoke a physical assault out of John. He soon joins his partner by the police car.

"Joining me?"

"Yeah. Apparently it's against the law to chin the superintendent"

Sherlock's mouth quirks approvingly. "Bit awkward, this."

"Yeah, there's noone to bail us"

"I was thinking more of our imminent and daring escape"

John is confused, but he immediately gets his explanation when Sherlock sabotages the ear pieces of all the officers nearby. The confusion is is enough for him to grab a gun and take control of the situation. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please get on your knees!"

When the shocked police doesn't immediately obey, Shelock fires into the air. "Now would be good!"

Lestrade, who looks mostly annoyed, is the first of the police to react. "Do as he says!"

Meanwhile, John is trying to get himself out of trouble for Sherlock's plan. "Just so you know, I'm not actually in on this, I'm just-"

Sherlock changes his grip on the gun to point it at John "My hostage!"

"Hostage, yes that works.", wheezes John to Sherlock. "That works. So what do we do now?"

"We do what Moriarty wants. Becomming a fugitive. Run" He grabs John by the hand and they run off together.

6.

"Alone is what I have, alone protects me"

John stops in his tracks to clench his fist and roll his eyes. "Fine. Be on your own then." He storms out.

7.

"Okay look up, I'm on the rooftop"

John turns around and looks up to see Sherlock standing on the edge of the roof. "Oh god"

"I- I can't come down so we'll just have to do it like this"

"What's going on?"

"An apology." There's a hesitant pause. "I... care so much about you, John and you deserve to know. It's all true."

"what?"

"Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty." He looks over his shoulder to where Moriarty is lying dead in a pool of blood. "For my own purposes"

John's mouth hangs open for a while before he manages to put together a response. "why are you saying this?"

Sherlock's voice is starting to waver "I'm a fake"

John frowns in disbelief. "Sherlock-"

"The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade. I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson and Molly." Sherlock's voice gets steadier as he talks. "In fact tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty for my own purposes"

John, meanwhile isn't buying it. "Shut up, shut up. The first time we met. The first time we met, you knew all about my sister, right?"

Sherlock smiles fondly. "Nobody could be that clever"

"You could"

He laughs in spite of himself. Then he grows serious and calmly explains himself to John. "I researched you. Before we met, I discovered everything I could to impress you. It's a trick, it's just a magic trick"

"No." John shakes his head. "Allright stop it now!" John starts walking towards the building.

"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move!"

John stops in he tracks and hols his hands up to show that he is obeying "Allright"

Sherlock still has his arm outstretched towards John. His voice is starting to crack. "Just look at me one last time. Please, will you do this for me?"

"Do what?"

"This phone call it's... it's my note. It's what people do don't they? Leave a note."

John only shakes his head, unwilling to take it in. "Leave a note when?"

"Goodbye John."

8.

John pushes himself though the crowd, trying to get to Sherlock."I'm a doctor, let me come though. Let me come through please, he's my- " He chokes on the word. "He's my boyfriend. He's my partner, please-" He tries to take his pulse, but get brushed off by other people in the crowd. As the turn Sherlock over, John can see the dead eyes. "Oh Jesus, no. God, no..."

9.

"I've been thinking about all his stuff. All the science equipment, a school could probably use it."

Mars. Hudson and John are standing in the graveyard, watching Sherlock's headstone. Mrs. Hudson turns to John as she speaks to him, but John keeps his eyes on the headstone as he replies.

"You can do whatever you want with it, I can't go back to the flat again not at the moment.. I'm angry."

Mrs. Hudson hooks her arm through his while he's speaking, trying to give support. "It's okay John, it's nothing unusual about it, that's how he made everyone feel. With the marks on my table and the noise. Firing guns at one in the morning."

John is barely listening. "Yeah"

"Bloody specimens in my fridge – imagine, keeping bodies where there's food."

John nods. "Yeah"

"And the fighting! Drove me up the wall with all his carryings on- " Mrs Hudson's voice breaks, giving John a chance to stop her rant.

"You know, I'm not actually that angry"

Mrs. Hudson nods. "Ok, I'll leave you to... you know" She walks off.

John is left with Sherlock's headstone. He takes a deep breath, looking over his shoulder before talking to him."You... you told me once, that you weren't a hero. Um. There were times I didn't think you were human, but let me tell you, you were the best man and the most human... human being that I've never known and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, so that's uh, there." He looks over his shoulder again before going over to the headstone and gently placing his hand on it. "I was so alone, and I owe you so much" John pats the stone awkwardly before turning around and starting to walk away stiffly, opening and closing his hands. Then he turns around, going back to the stone. "There's just one more thing, one more thing, one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be dead." John's voice starts to crack, but he presses on. "Would you – just for me. Just stop it" He points to the head stone. "Stop this". He looks at the ground, taking calming breaths, but ends up crying anyway. He manages to compose himself, wiping his eyes and straightening before turning around with military precision, not knowing that Sherlock watches him as the walk across the graveyard.