I watched the last episode of Sherlock and I'm soooo desperate to know what happens next… so this is my idea of what might happen. Haven't written in a while so to those who are waiting for me to update my stories I promise I will try and do it soon. Just so busy atm. Enjoy

Sacrifice

Sherlock held the gun firmly and with composure as he aimed it and the bomb that lay at his feet. He knew there was no hope for him but maybe he could save John.

"John get out of here," said Sherlock, but his gaze did not leave Moriarty.

"I'm not leaving you here Sherlock."

"Aw how sweet" said Moriarty, his voice slightly eccentric.

"Don't be a stubborn ass John. Get out of here run!"

John knew what Sherlock was going to do and he wasn't going to let him die alone.

"Sherlock I'm not going to leave you here to die alone."

"I'm not going to die alone, I'm taking him with me."

"No you won't!"

Sherlock knew John wasn't going to leave and that comforted him, John was his best and only friend and the thought of him willing to sacrifice himself so that he, Sherlock Holmes didn't die alone brought warmth to him. It was enough for Sherlock to tighten his finger on the trigger.

Sssssssss

John saw Sherlock tighten his hold on the trigger and in that moment he rose to his feet and threw himself at Sherlock sending them both flying into the pool as the bomb went off. John noticed red blood swirl around them and he waited for the pain but it never came. Then he realised it was emanating from Sherlock's shoulder. The fire died down above them and he risked swimming to the surface. The pools roof was gone and a lot of I lay strewn across the floor. But the damage wasn't a bad as he had thought it would be. Moriarty must have known that Sherlock would do something like this so made sure the bomb wasn't powerful enough to destroy the building. That way he could escape virtually unharmed if he ran quick enough. The body of one of the snipers lay by the side of the pool and John noticed he was only young, early 20s maybe and he felt sorry for the boy. But he was definitely the one that shpt Sherlock and that sorrow soon faded.

John pushed Sherlock's limp form up and out of the pool. When he was sure Sherlock was relatively secure on the pools edge he got out to. The night breeze made him shiver but he didn't care, he was more concerned that very little blood now escaped Sherlock's body. He checked to see if Holmes' was breathing… nothing… he checked for a pulse… nothing.

"No don't you die on me now." He said as he tilted Sherlock's head and blew air into the man's dormant lungs. He began compressions and then checked, still nothing.

"Come on Sherlock." He said as he blew air into the mans lungs again.

At that moment Lestrade ran in though one of the more intact doors. He then stood there shocked as he saw John Watson performing CPR on Sherlock. He had read Sherlock's message about meeting at the pool and when he'd heard the place had blown up he'd driven as fast as he could. He hadn't realised thought till that moment that he actually cared for the cocky inspector.

John looked up and noticed and shouted:

"Help him he's dying."

Lestrade knew he shouldn't have run in, in the first place but he just couldn't stop himself. Now he knew that one part of the building was relatively intact he went and got the medics.

John continued to do CPR on Sherlock not giving up.

"Come on… breathe!"

Then Sherlock drew a breath, it was like music to his ears. Medics burst through the doors and pushed John out the way. They placed Sherlock on a gurney and intubated him as the inspector began to gasp for breath again.

This was going to be a long night.

Sssssss

John sat at Sherlock's bedside, the hissing and beeping of machines filling his ears. He had only known Sherlock a small amount of time but he already considered the man his closest friend and seeing him surround in wires and tubes filled his heart with sadness. What saddened him more was the lack of concern that the police he worked with felt towards the man. Molly was still mad but very much concerned and so was Lestrade but no one else seemed to care.

No one cared that the only thing keeping Sherlock breathing was the tube that protruded from his mouth or that fact that he was willing to risk his life to save the hundreds of people Moriarty was likely to kill next.

Sherlock Holmes had become a good man, and no one cared.

Well there it is… if you want me to continue then say but I only intended it to be a one-shot sorta thing… please tell me what you think.