My second sherloki. Cause I just love them so much and they're so nice to write. I'm not sure if this'll be a one-shot yet. Tell me what you think. Also, please check out my other Sherloki fic. I think it's better than this, but it's the RDJr, not te benedict cumberbach Sherlock. I also do much frostiron and others, avengers based. Enjou. -Doctor Maz

"I am you. Prepared to do anything. Prepared to burn. Prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell, I shall not disappoint you."

"Nah. You talk big. Nah. You're ordinary. You're ordinary. You're on the side of the angels."

"Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that I am one of them."

"No. You're not. I see. You're not ordinary. No. You're me. You're me. Thank you. Sherlock Holmes. Thank you. Bless you. As long as I'm alive, you can save your friends. You've got a way out. Well good luck with that."

A single shot echoed through the air, followed by the dull thud of Moriarty's limp body hitting the floor.

Sherlock inhaled deeply as he made his way to the edge of the rooftop, taking his phone from his pocket as he walked. He tapped the screen and put the phone to his ear. It was answered after a single ring.

"Shelock-"

"John."

"Sherlock are you okay?"

"Turn around and walk back the way you came."

"No, I'm coming in."

"Just do as I say, please."

"Where?"

"Stop there."

"Sherlock-"

"No. Stay exactly were you are. Dont move."

"Alright."

"Keep your eyes fixed on me. Please, will you do this for me?"

"Do what?"

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

"Leave a note when?"

"Goodbye, John."

"No. Don't—"

Sherlock closed his eyes. In one last defiance to Moriarty, he opened his arms out to the sides. He wouldn't 'fall, he would fly.

Sherlock felt the air rushing past his ears, his scarf being blown back, the anticipation of the impact.

But none came.

Sherlock felt the tingling sensation of his skin, the harsh cold outside, insatiable heat within.

Sherlock felt a long arm wrap around him. He opened his eyes.

Between the locks of his now tousled hair, Sherlock looked down at his broken body.

The other man gripped Sherlock's hand in his, sadness his beautiful eyes as they looked down on Sherlock's would-be corpse.

"Let's get out of here. I can't bear to think of you like this." Loki wiped some hair from Sherlock's eyes with the last words.

The last thing either men saw before they teleported was a distraught John, screaming and doing his best to help a body that could never be revived. A bloody scarf was clasped tightly to his chest as he let the tears cascade down pale cheeks.