Sherlock stood on the roof of St. Bart's Hospital. His toes just barely peered over the ledge and his legs shook in fear of what he knew he had to do. He looked out over the city of London. The wind blew furiously, whipping his long black coat around him. He held a phone to his ear, and tried to calm his lover on the street, he felt so far away. A man stood below him, a phone held tightly in his hand as he frantically tried to make reason with the man on the roof.
"Goodbye, John." Sherlock dropped his phone. Click, silence. A single tear fell from his eye, and quickly dried in the mad wind. He tipped forward, and his feet slid from the ledge.
Screaming.
“He’s my friend, let me through!”
John reached for Sherlock, he took his hand and searched desperately for a pulse. There was none. John collapsed over him and began sobbing into the freshly blood-stained coat. Every part of Sherlock screamed. The need to comfort John boiled in his blood, but he could not. John pulled Sherlock’s head into his lap and cleared the sticky crimson hair from his face. Beneath his hard mask, Sherlock’s skin still tingled at John’s touch. John could hear the whirring of an ambulance siren in the distance, and it grew closer and closer. The warm fingers caressed his flatmate’s face, until Sherlock was pulled from his arms and lain on a cot. John could not move. He sat in the pool of blood and watched his lover being taken away.
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Continents Away
FanfictionAfter The Fall, Sherlock decides not to go back home to London. Instead, he starts a new life fighting crime in Washington DC. Only when Sherlock meets a young boy who looks an awful lot like an old friend does he wonder if maybe he made the wrong...
