𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘚𝘪𝘥𝘦 | 𝘖𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 2 ✔︎

Chapter I - The Fall of A Great Man

Two Years Later...

I can already see tomorrow's headline.

The Fall of A Great Man, it will read.

That man is perched on top of St. Bart's building, looking unsurely down at the ground below. He's going to jump! My mind screams at me. You have to do something! But I'm too shocked to speak and too stunned to move. So my mind goes into autopilot.

I try to grab the attention of the people around me. 'Somebody, look! He's going to jump!' I yell, but no one listens. They just keep staring at their phones.

I keep watching the man. I have to. The second I look away, the second I blink, he could fall to his death. The man is tall, with dark curls on his head and high cheekbones. He is wearing a long black coat and a blue scarf.

'SHERLOCK!' a voice yells. That grabs my attention. I whip my head around to look at at the man who spoke. He is short, with blond hair, wearing a coat. His posture indicates that of a man who has served in the military. His eyes are staring at the man on the roof, and nowhere else. He holds a phone to his ear as if making a call. Something tells me he knows the man on the roof--that they're friends--and he is yelling his name.

As soon as possible, I turn my head back to watch the man on the roof.

And then he does it.

He jumps.

I scream 'SHERLOCK!' as well, for that must be his name, and grab the attention of the man who yelled before me. Something like recognition flashes in his eyes before he is hit by a biker riding by. He is knocked over onto the street, and he turns my attention back to him again. I run over to him and help him up, while the cyclist rides off.

'Sherlock...' he groans and runs over to a body lying on the ground, on the other side of St. Bart's. I follow him and recognise the body as Sherlock's, the man who fell. His curls are plastered to his forehead, his skin is deathly pale, and there is blood everywhere. There is blood on the pavement, blood on the blond man's hands, and soon, blood on the bystander's hands as they rush over to see what has happened.

'Someone call an ambulance!' I yell, too stunned to do it myself. The man who seems to know Sherlock is getting pushed out of the way by the crowd of people now swarming the body. He fights his way back in, saying, 'I'm a doctor--let me come through. Let me come through, please.' When the crowd still holds him back, he says, 'No, he's my friend. He's my friend. Please.'

He reaches for Sherlock and grabs his wrist, feeling for a pulse. A woman pries his hands off of the body and leads him away. He reaches again, but then the fact that his friend is dead must sink in. He slumps down in despair and I rush to his side, holding him up.

'Sir,' I begin, trying to draw his attention away from Sherlock.

'Jesus, no.' he groans. He tries to stand again and I let go of him. He ends up falling back down into my arms.

'Sir,' I repeat, 'What's your name?'

'God, no,' he mutters, transfixed on his friend on the ground. Then he answers, 'John... John Watson.'

'Alright, John,' I say as a medical vehicle arrives and brings out a stretcher. 'John, everything will be okay. Do you hear me? Everything will be alright.' but of course, that isn't true.

The medical people set the body on the stretcher and wheel it back to the truck. 'No, no,' he says, breathing heavily.

'Yes, John. I'm Clara Oswald. You don't need to worry, your friend will be fine.' another lie.

'Clara?' he turns and looks me in the eye for the first time. 'You and Sherlock, you--' he tries to say. His eyes are squinting and his demeanour is confused and shocked.

'No, no. You must be thinking of someone else. I don't know Sherlock.' I answer.

'But you... you do.' he insists. I purse my lips and shake my head. John shrugs the other bystanders and me off of him and stands up. The truck drives away, and he is left staring after it.

~~~~~

{ Video: fear | sherlock + clara oswald by moonlit pond
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qg2bjNSpUcg }

Word Count: 733

Edited 2.1.19