Chapter Six

Sherlock's eyes widened in shock before he collapsed to the ground. He felt like he couldn't breathe and it was the worst pain he had ever felt in his life. He watched as the blood seeped out of him and onto the pool deck.

John stood above him, unmoving. Sherlock took a deep breath and groaned as he turned his head to stare up at John.

John was still standing in the exact same place, holding the gun out in front of him. He hadn't moved an inch and from the look of his face Sherlock could tell he was in shock at what he just did. "John..." He choked out and swallowed when John didn't look at him. It was very possible that John didn't hear him... "John!" He tried a bit louder and then winced. He was bleeding out fast and he knew he didn't have much time...

John snapped back to the real world and looked down at Sherlock, "Oh my god..." He choked out and started shaking. "Sherlock I–"

Sherlock swallowed and cut him off. "You still have the chance to make this okay... Just call an ambulance and leave me alone... That way you won't be a suspect... You can do it... You have a choice, John. You can either dial 999 or leave me alone to die, but right now I don't want to see you." He growled a bit, but more so because he was in pain, not because he was angry. However, he was angry... He was furious, but he couldn't focus on that right now.

John nodded slowly and ran out of the room. Sherlock had no idea what John chose to do, because he had left the pool, but the next thing he knew everything went black.

~O~

John ran out of the pool and went to a paying phone so they couldn't track him. He dialled 999 and waited for somebody to answer.

"999. What's your emergency?"

"My-" John cut himself off. His what? He couldn't say flatmate because then there was a chance he would be considered a suspect. He wasn't in the right mindset and wasn't thinking clearly. "There's been a shooting..." He whispered like he couldn't believe this was actually happening.

"Are you in any danger, Sir?"

John whimpered and shook his head, though he knew they couldn't see. He just blurted out the address and ran.

He got to his car and then peeled away, speeding to the mansion. He was lucky he didn't get pulled over, but he wasn't really thinking about that.

He eventually got to his mansion and ran up the stairs. He flung himself in his bed and just stared at the ceiling. After a while he could hear the door open and close softly, he just assumed it was Mike.

However, once he heard the soft click of a gun he knew that wasn't the case. John sniffled and slowly turned around to face his attacker. He didn't care that this man would probably kill him... He just wanted to take everything back that he did, but he knew he couldn't.

Mycroft stood before him and was shaking a bit. His eyes were filled with rage and his chest was heaving. John hoped he would kill him. It would end this nightmare.

"You shot him." Mycroft choked out.

John sighed and scrubbed his face. "That I did."

Mycroft's jaw clenched, "I was wrong about you."

John frowned slightly and looked at him, "Wrong about what?"

Mycroft shook his head, "I thought you could actually care for someone, but I was wrong. You don't have a heart, John Watson. You're an evil man and now you're going to die."

John stood up and straightened his back, "Then do it!" He spat.

Mycroft blinked a bit and then a slow smile spread across Mycroft's face, "Ah, there it is."

Now, it was John's turn to clench his jaw, "There what is?" He growled.

"Your emotion," Mycroft hummed in an amused voice.

John swallowed thickly, "Stop avoiding it and just fucking shoot me!" He hissed.

Mycroft shook his head and put the gun away, "See, I came up here with two possible outcomes. I'm going with the original one I thought would happen."

John thrusted his jaw forward and glared daggers at him, "Oh, please tell me what outcomes you had thought up were."

Mycroft frowned, "Not even going to deduce them? Pitiful." He sighed and stepped forward, "Well, the one I thought wouldn't happen is I would come up here and you wouldn't have cared what you had just done. In that case I would have shot you and we would have moved on with our lives. However, you do care. You wish you could take it back.. which is why we're settling for the outcome I thought would happen."

"WHICH IS WHAT!" He screamed.

"I'm leaving you alive, John Watson. So you have to live with what you have done. Sherlock is never going to forgive you for what you did to him so you will have to live with that – or he will die... and you'll have to live with that too. Either way, you'll be alone – and Watson, my dear, I don't think you will be able to handle that."

"And how do you know I just won't kill myself?" He swallowed.

"Oh, because you are way too proud of a man for that." He smirked and then spun around and walked towards the door. He put his hand on the doorknob and paused slight, "Have a nice life, Doctor Watson." He hummed and then left the room.

~O~

Three days later and John Watson dressed up as Sherlock's John. He got in his car and parked a couple of blocks away from St. Barts hospital. John walked up to where Sherlock's room was and sat in the chair next to his bed as he watched him sleep. He didn't know what Sherlock would do once he woke up, but he didn't care... he didn't want to be away from him and maybe even going to jail would be better than the pain he was feeling now. He sighed as he held Sherlock's hand and brushed his thumb across the back of his.

John ended up sitting there for hours before Sherlock's eyes slowly fluttered opened. He swallowed hard and waited for Sherlock to register that he was in his room.

Sherlock slowly turned his head to the side and saw John. At first his heart swelled with happiness and love, but then he remembered what John had done to him – what John had done to hundreds of people, "What are you doing here?" He said lowly and glared at him.

"It would look a bit weird if I wasn't here... don't you think?" He tried to joke, but it just came out sounding dry.

Sherlock looked away and clenched his jaw, "I don't want to see you. Ever again. And I thought that I made that very clear." He snapped.

"Perhaps you did, but I can't stay away..." John whispered after a minute of silence.

"Then maybe you should have thought about that before you–" He didn't have time to finish that sentence because John had put his hand over his mouth.

"Don't talk about that here..." He whispered quietly and then slowly retracted his hand. "Sherlock... everything I did... everything I said... that did mean something..." He said quietly, repeating Sherlock's words from before. He watched as Sherlock winced, but he just thought it was just from his words. "Sherlock.." He choked out quietly, "I love you... God, help me... I love you so much." John said for the first time.

However, Sherlock didn't have time to respond because the next thing John knew his eyes were rolling back into his head and the sounds of the machines were beeping like crazy. Nurses ran into the room and started working on Sherlock furiously. John choked on a sob and couldn't believe what was happening, "BUT HE WAS FINE JUST A MINUTE AGO!" He screamed and then two bigger men – security he took it – were carrying him out of the room and into the lobby to wait.

~O~

Hours later a doctor came out and looked at John, "Doctor Watson..." He said quietly.

John stood up and walked to the doctor that looked rather sombre. His heart sunk, but he kept his head held high, "Yes..." He whispered.

After a moment of silence the doctor swallowed and gave him a firm look, "We tried everything we could to save him..." He said with no emotion. John took it that this was a speech he had to give at least five times a day, there was no room for emotion anymore. "He had internal bleeding that we didn't see before, but by the time we tried to fix him... he didn't make it. I'm sorry. You can come and see him if you would like."

John's eyes widened and his heart broke. Sherlock never said it back... He didn't even know if Sherlock had forgiven him for what he had done! He felt like he was suffocating and he felt numb everywhere... He wanted to cry, but he hadn't shed a tear since that night he had broken down in his room... though, he supposed that wasn't a long time ago. He just straightened his back and then nodded once.

The doctor sighed sadly and then turned around, leading him to the operating room. He watched as John walked over to the table Sherlock was laying on and then left the room, giving the two men some privacy.

John started to shake as he got closer to the body, "Sh-Sherlock..." He whimpered and reached for the lifeless man's hand. It was cold and John wondered how long he had been gone for. "Sherlock... please... please say something to me. Let me know you're okay... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." He choked out. Sherlock was silent and that broke John. He fell to his and cradled Sherlock's hand to his face.

Eventually, he stood up and gave Sherlock one last look and a kiss on his cold lips before walking out of the room. That was their first kiss... and Sherlock wasn't even around to share it with him. He walked to his parked car and got inside and then dialled a number he was hoping he would have been able to avoid.

"Hello?" Sebastian answered on the second ring.

"It's done." He said gravely.

Sebastian was silent for a second, "You were supposed to torture him." He finally spat.

"Yes, well. Things don't always go as planned!" John spat back, "I'll give you a million back and we'll call it even. Now, don't fucking call this number again. Goodbye, Sebastian! Have a nice fucking life." He said with no emotion at all and then hung up.

~O~

John meant to drive home... he really did, but he ended up in front of a tall building that had probably been there since the dinosaurs. John paused for a split second before slowly getting out of the car and knocking on the door.

An old woman answered... she was probably around Mrs. Hudson's age. "Christ..." John breathed under his breath.

The woman's eyes widened and she started to weep as she took the man into her arms, "My baby..." She whimpered.

John smiled sadly and wrapped his arms tightly around her, "Hi, Mrs. Turner..." He whispered quietly.

She pulled away slowly and smiled sadly at him, "You're so handsome..." She whispered and then sniffled, "Did you hear about Jim..? Tragic really I–"

John cut her off, "I really don't want to talk about that..." He felt sick.

She nodded and seemed to understand what he meant, but John knew she didn't.

John was silent as he walked into the familiar place. He took a deep breath and then looked at her, "Do you still have it..?" He asked quietly.

She didn't even have to ask what he meant. She knew... and she also knew that one day he would come back for it, "In my office." She said softly.

John looked down and shuffled his feet some, "Can I have it..."

She smiled sadly and nodded, "One minute deary." She said softly and then left the room. She came back a couple of minutes later holding a small stuffed squirrel in her hands.

John swallowed hard and then reached forward and grabbed it from her hands, "Thank you..." He whispered quietly.

They chatted about life for the next couple of hours and for that time John just forgot... and it was glorious.

~O~

Months passed in a blur and John had stopped taking on cases. He let his staff go – let them be free – he didn't even care if one of them were to turn him in, but no one did... The only person that stayed with him was Mike. He didn't understand why, but he also didn't ask. John didn't speak these days, but Mike didn't seem to mind the silence. He understood.

John had no idea where Mycroft was, but he also didn't care... if Mycroft was going to come and get him, John would let him, but Mycroft never showed up.

No, life wasn't easy from that point on, but Mike was able to make it just a little bit better.

~O~

On June 27, 2014, exactly two year after Sherlock's death, Mike walked into John's room to check on him. However, what he found broke his heart. He ran to the bed to check on John, but he was too late – hours too late. He climbed in the bed and held John's lifeless body in his arms as he sobbed. He looked down and saw that John was holding some stuffed squirrel. He didn't see the relevance in that, but he also didn't dare take it out of John's hands.

A while later he pulled away and started making arrangements for the funeral... He was the only one to attend.

~O~

Three months after John's death all of the stories were leaked. All of the people he killed were revealed and all of the cold cases that involved him were solved. After police had all the information on John Watson everyone considered him the best assassin in the world. He was known worldwide and was famous... and even though that wasn't the best title to be remembered by... Mike knew that he would have loved it.