1. Sherlock's fall
John was angry, fuming in fact over Sherlock's lack of concern for his fellow human beings, but more than anything he was desperately worried about Mrs Hudson. He wanted to go straight to the hospital but the woman on the phone had asked him to pick up Mrs Hudson's ID and make a list of what medications she was taking so he would have to stop off at Baker Street first.
When he burst through the door and found Mrs Hudson, as healthy as ever, along with a very beefy handyman. "Is everything okay now with the police? Has Sherlock sorted it all out?" Mrs Hudson asked kindly and he felt first surprise and then cold dread.
How could he have been so stupid? Sherlock had seen through it straight away of course, and once again John had insulted his best friend because he himself had been to stupid to realise what was going on.
He had to admit that he still didn't know what was going on. All he knew was that someone, most likely Moriarty, had wanted to get him far away from St Bart's as possible and now he had to get back. He had do undo what he had just said to Sherlock. He had to make sure that he had not just made a monumental mistake by abandoning him now that things were so messed up.
His phone rang just as he was getting out of the taxi and he answered it with a brief "Hello?"
"John." Sherlock's voice sounded strange, hesitant, much more unsure than John was used to hearing it.
"Hey, Sherlock, you okay?" It was a relief to hear his friend's voice but it did not stop his heart from beating heavily with barely concealed fear.
"Turn around and walk back the way you came" Sherlock ordered him but John was not in the mood for games.
"No I'm coming in" he headed firmly toward the hospital building.
"Just do as I ask. Please." Sherlock sounded almost panicked and John froze in his steps and looked around to where the taxi was just pulling away.
"Where?" there was no immediate response from Sherlock and John hesitantly began to retrace his steps.
"Stop there." That strange urgency and sadness in Sherlock's voice was terrifying, and how was it that he was able to see what John was doing, was he at the window?
"Sherlock?" John questioned, thoroughly confused.
"Okay, look up. I'm on the rooftop." Sherlock sounded fairly calm but his words sent cold dread through John's chest as he turned around and spotted Sherlock standing on the very edge of the roof looking down on him.
"Oh God." John didn't know what else to say.
"I… I can't come down , so we'll… we'll just have to do it like this" Sherlock sounded sad, his voice was strained as though he was crying or about to cry. It was a terrifying sound.
"What's going on?" John tried feebly, hoping against hope that there was some perfectly reasonable explanation for why Sherlock was currently standing at the edge of a roof crying. A reason that did not involve John having just pushed him one step to far with all of his unfounded accusations.
"An aplology. It's all true"
Ok, that was not what John had been expecting. "Wha… what?" he asked in utter confusion.
"Everything they said about me" Sherlock continued "I invented Moriarty" John feels his stomach clench and a desperate mantra of no, no, no, no.. kept repeating in the back of his mind.
"Why are you saying this?" he questioned, trying to stay calm and not let the panic he was feeling show in his voice.
"I'm a fake" Sherlock sounds every bit as sad and frightened as John fels.
"Sherlock…" he trails off, he doesn't have the words to say what he wants to say. He doesn't even quite know what he wants to say, just that somehow he has to stop this. He needs to get Sherlock off that roof and make sure that he never has to hear his best friend sound this sad and defeated again.
"The newspapers were right all along" Sherlock continues and John has no doubt now that the great detective is crying and it makes him want to wrap him up in his arms and hold on for dear life, somehow make things better. "I want you to tell Lestrade, I want you to tell Mrs Hudson, and Molly. In fact tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty for my own purposes."
"okay, shut up, Sherlock Shut up." John wants to be angry with Sherlock for saying such obviously stupid things, for trying to lie to him but he can't, what with the fear, and the guilt and the sadness swirling around in his chest there is no room for anger. "The first time we met… The first time we met, you knew all about my sister right?" Logic, that is what will work on Sherlock, it has always been his forte.
"Nobody could be that clever"
"You could" John says and is rewarded with a small amused laugh from Sherlock.
"I researched you. Before we met I discovered everything that I could to impress you" John closes his eyes trying to slow his breathing as he hears the sound of Sherlock almost sobbing as he draws breath on the other end "It's a trick, just a magic trick" John silently shakes his head, no, no, no.
"Alright stop it now." He means it for his own reeling mind as much as for Sherlock. Someone please put a stop to this. Well, there is no one else and he stumbles into action moving toward the building in front of him.
"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move" Sherlock sounds so frantic that John can't help but obey.
"Alright" John backs up unconsciously reaching out toward Sherlock who mirrors the movement from above.
"Keep your eyes fixed on me. Please will you do this for me?" Sherlock sounds so desperate it breaks John's heart to hear it.
"Do what?" he asks and he dreads to hear the answer.
"This phone call… it's, erh ... it's my note. It's what people do, don't they… leave a note?" John feels the panic pick up a notch and he helplessly shakes his head.
"Leave a note when?" he's playing dumb now. He knows exactly what Sherlock means but he is not willing to entertain the idea. He has to stall, to somehow find the words to talk Sherlock down off that ledge.
"Goodbye John." Sherlock's words are disturbingly final.
"No don't" John shakes his head again as eyes locked on the dramatic vision of Sherlock on the roof, coat billowing slightly in the breeze. Then he drops his phone behind him and stretches his arms out to the sides in a pose that looks almost religious and tilts forward.
"No… SHERLOCK!" John screams as he watches his best friend list forward over the edge and with flailing arms tumble toward the ground. John's head goes entirely blank He hears the sickening thud of the body impacting with the ground and he lurches forward.
As he rounds the ambulance bay Sherlock comes into view and John freezes to the spot unable to move for a second as he watches the still body on the ground.
Suddenly he is hit hard from behind and he finds his own body slamming into the ground, head impacting hard against the asphalt. For a second he thinks he's going to pass out but his body is so sated with adrenaline that after a few seconds of blinking away the spots dancing before his eyes he is able to push himself up and continue toward the crowd gathering around Sherlock.
He tries to formulate his friend's name, to call out to him but it comes out as nothing more than a whisper. "I'm a doctor, let me come through. Let me come through please" he tries to push his way through the onlookers but they keep holding him back. His vision swims before him and he's not sure if it's from the shock or the blow to the head, he doesn't care.
Sherlock is lying on the ground with a large pool of blood around his head and John has eyes for nothing and no one else. "No," he struggles against the hands holding him back "He's my friend Please" he manages to push himself forward enough to grasp Sherlock's wrist and check for a pulse.
There is nothing, not the tiniest flutter and as he notes the absence of a heartbeat his own seems to stop in his chest. His legs buckle under him and he slumps to the ground "Jesus, no… God no"
In no time at all Sherlock is wheeled away from him and with that the crowd begin to disperse. Finally John is able to struggle back to his feet where he stands swaying swatting away the hands of the concerned people around him.
He just stands there, shell shocked unable to move. What has he done. "You machine…" the words echo in the back of his mind. "Sod this… Friends protect people" but he hadn't. He had abandoned Sherlock and now he is dead.
It plays over and over in his head, all the times when he has blamed Sherlock for things in his life going wrong, for getting hurt, and now the roles are reversed. He had told Sherlock that he deserved whatever discomfort he got from John having fallen from that roof. Now Sherlock had fallen and this time there had been a lot more floors, a much harder impact and what had not been true of Sherlock then was certainly true of John now. He deserved all the pain he felt at loosing his best friend, he deserved it because instead of giving Sherlock something to live for he had turned his back on him, walked away, not trusted his judgement and in his absence, with the last words he's spoken to the man being cruel insults Sherlock had decided that he had had enough.
John's heart pounded in his chest and he found himself unable to focus his eyes. As the world tilted and his knees hit the ground once again unconsciousness slipping away he prayed in a complete reversal of his earlier request "Please God, just let me die as well"