Promises Series

Broken Promises - Chapter Four

Two Years, Four Months, and Eight Days Before the Meeting of Sherlock and Julia Holmes

Moriarty lay bleeding out at his feet, crimson blood trickling from the wound in his head. Sherlock backed away, running his hands through his hair.

James Moriarty was dead. That meant that either Sherlock joined the madman, or his only three friends in the world did so instead.

It's a simple choice, isn't it? he thought as he stepped onto the ledge. Even if it means you will lose John.

Of course, Sherlock wasn't actually going to die. No, he was much too important for that. He still had things to do here, in London. There would be more cases, more murders, more serial killers for him to track down. The world needed Sherlock Holmes, and he was not ready to leave it just yet.

He pulled out his phone. Sherlock just wanted to hear John's voice one last time before he left. He didn't know when he would be able to return. The cases, the flat, the violin - he could live without these things. Sherlock just didn't know if he could live without John.

The doctor was just climbing out of a cab as he lifted his mobile to his ear. "Hello?"

"John."

"Hey, Sherlock, you okay?"

"Turn around and walk back the way you came now," ordered Sherlock.

"No, I'm coming in."

That wouldn't do. "Just do as I ask! Please."

Sherlock watched raptly as John turned back, looking around the street.

"Where?" asked the doctor. He walked back to the road as Sherlock had asked.

It hurt Sherlock now, how John wouldn't even question him. He wanted John to question him. He wanted John to ask why. He wanted John to know why he had to leave. But John couldn't know. John would want to come with him; John always wanted to come with him. Sherlock was routinely reprimanded for running off without the doctor by his side. The detective didn't think this would be much different.

"Stop there."

"Sherlock?" The confusion in John's voice sent a pang of sorrow straight through Sherlock's core. He could feel his heart constrict - because he did have one, thank you very much.

"Okay, look up. I'm on the rooftop."

"Oh God." John's voice cracked along with some of Sherlock's resolve.

"I... I can't come down, so we'll... we'll just have to do it like this."

"What's going on?"

"An apology. It's all true."

"Wh-what?"

"Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty." Sherlock glanced around at the body lying behind him.

"Why are you saying this?"

"I'm a fake."

"Sherlock."

"The newspapers were right all along. 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. The first time we met... the first time we met, you knew all about my sister, right?"

"Nobody could be that clever," Sherlock replied simply.

"You could."

Sherlock huffed a laugh through his nose at John's unfailingly loyalty. A tear dripped down his chin. When had that happened?