When Luck Runs Out

Just Don't Open Your Eyes

John flinched, but he kept his mouth shut, and I could see the blood dripping off of his forearm. He looked like he was in incredible pain, but he wasn't going to let them see. Me, on the other hand, was about as good about hiding my pain as I was in sleeping peacefully, because I clawed at the net, shrieking like a banshee, trying to rip the bloody thing apart, but to no use. Then I remembered the screw, and started to saw away at one of the ropes, hoping that if I could break a few I could jump out of this thing. But then again, I was still five stories up, it would be a freefall.
"Doesn't feel all that great, does it Johnny?" Jim asked, taking the knife and dragging it slowly across John's chest in a bloody smile. He looked like a volcano, bent up on screams of pain and tears, but he wouldn't let them out, he wouldn't give those two monsters the satisfaction. I adored John above all things at the moment, but I was too busy trying to save him at the moment. One of the ropes was half way through, but I knew that one little cut wasn't enough for me to get out of; I'd need five, at least.
"John, hang on, just be strong I know you are!" I yelled, pretending to be trying to escape yet again, scraping along the edge of the net with Jeanette.
"I'm fine." John mumbled, but he was definitely not fine. Blood was pooling around him like a small river, dripping from his arm, from his chest, from his head. They were bleeding him for fun, like a pig.
"John I love you, just remember that okay, I love you so much!" I called, sawing through the first rope to a victorious snap. One down, who knows how many to go. There was a pile of weapons next to Moran, obviously the things he didn't want at the moment, if I could saw out of this thing, jump over to that ledge, grab a weapon, and kill them both, it'll all be fine.
"I love you too Sherlock, forget everything I said today, last night, you're..." John's words were once again blocked by Moriarty, who was laughing to himself.
"Aw, speed bumps in your relationship huh? It was about her, wasn't it?" Jim laughed, pointing the tip of his sword at Jeanette's broken body. I growled in anger, but I couldn't scream, I was just imagining how I was going to kill this creep. I had ideas of course, and one involved a little bit of his own medicine. Moran took his wicked knife and cut through John's side, more blood pooling onto the floor. I screamed once more, sawing as fast as I could through the ropes.
"JOHN BE STRONG!" I screamed. This was exactly like my nightmares, but I had control now, I was going to be able to make this alright. He was on the verge of unconsciousness, I could tell. Human bodies could only withstand so much blood and pain, but he couldn't pass out, not now, I needed him so much. He didn't respond, but I didn't want him to, that would be taking up too much energy. Snap, the second rope split, and I had a hole big enough for me to stick one of my legs through. But unless I wanted to give myself away, I stayed far away from said hole, which meant I had to snuggle up to Jeanette's bloody body, which wasn't very tasteful at all.
"You know what would be fun?" Jim asked. Moran just sniggered, because he probably knew what was coming.
"Killing you?" I asked.
"Ohh, I'm terrified. No, I was thinking about having a little scavenger hunt for Mr. Watson's rib bones. Then we can pull them out, and whoever gets the most, wins." Jim suggested.
"DON'T YOU DARE!" I shrieked, still helpless to stop them.
"Sorry Sherly, but I dare. After all, I'm a winner." Jim shrugged, and with that he dove his knife into John's chest, starting to carve a large, deep line across. John now couldn't keep his head up anymore, I couldn't see his face, but I was sure it was stuck in a twisted expression of horrible pain, or he was simply unconscious. One more rope cut with a snap, now I could probably wiggle out very uncomfortably, one more rope ought to do it. Just as Jim started to spread the flaps of bloody skin apart, exposing a lot of torn muscles and bones, someone burst out of the shadows, and it was no guess who. He impaled Moran on his sword, straight through the heart, and the monster of a man went tumbling down, collapsing where he stood.
"SEBASTIAN!" Jim shrieked in rage. Greg jumped into the torch light, bloody sword at the ready, and for the first time I had to admit, it was so great to see him. I sawed as much as I could through the net, and finally a hole was made. I slid out of it, clutching to the outside of the net, my hands burning as I struggled to keep myself from falling. I started to swing the net so that I could get a good jump, but at the moment I didn't know if I could. I was sliding, and my arms were starting to feel considerably like Jell-O. I could hear swords clashing a people screaming, but that was far beyond my concern right now. The net was swinging rapidly, one good jump would get me to the floor, one bad jump would send me spiraling to the lobby. I leapt to the railing, clutching it with my arms like a bear, my legs not seeming to be able to find anything to support my weight, I was slipping....
"Need a hand I see?" Greg asked with a crooked smile, grasping one of my arms and pulling me over the railing with a heave, letting me collapse on the floor in the piles of blood, pooling from Moran's dead body and from John's many wounds.
"You killed them; you killed them both, how...?" I asked in awe, scrambling to my feet. John was still there, limp and lifeless, but very much alive, I should hope.
"John, you're alright, you have to be alright..." I muttered, taking his pulse just as Jim had. There was a faint heartbeat, sounding terribly spread apart, he was obviously just gripping to life.
"We need to get him down, help me." I decided, looking over at Greg, who was poking at Moran's body, as if trying to see if he was really dead.
"Oh, yea, of co..." his words were halted when he sprouted a metal sword through his chest, blood shining on the blade, a look of horrible surprise on his face. Greg croaked a little bit, bubbling blood from his lips, and fell over, Moriarty standing above him, blood dripping from wounds on his face and chest, but he was alive and swinging.
"Don't think you can kill my love without paying the price yourself." He snarled, pulling his sword wickedly out of Greg's chest and letting his body fall to the floor.
"Same goes to yourself." I insisted, grabbing a sword from the pile of weapons, determination set. I was going to kill Jim, for Greg, for John, for Jeanette, he was going to pay. Jim swung his sword menacingly and came charging at me, looking much more terrifying and twisted now that he was angry. But I was angry as well, I was livid, and he didn't scare me, not anymore, because I had to fight, I had to kill this man so that no more harm would come to my John. Our swords clashed between us, and if it weren't for so many duels with Greg I would've been dead already. But I pushed his blade out of the way, trying to swipe at his stomach, but Jim jumped back, my sword scraping along the fabric on his leather jacket.
"Not too bad there, are you Sherly?" he laughed, swiping at me head, which I blocked hastily and tried to call on the strength I knew I didn't have, attempting to push him off balance or something. It only resulted in wasted energy, because Jim's blood stained teeth only broke into a smile, pushing my sword away and stepping back. I was too angry to shoot any insults at him, but I had a couple of choice words to describe how much of a jerk he was. John was still unconscious, still bleeding into a puddle on the floor, but he's definitely much better off with all of his rib bones in his chest.
"I'm not going to kill you Sherlock, you'll join your boyfriend on the rack, the two of you will prove to be very entertaining as you scream." Jim decided.
"Not if I kill you first." I insisted, kicking him flat in the chest and sending my foe stumbling back into the railing. Unfortunately he recovered fast, and came hurtling at me with a blood curling scream, stabbing at my chest. I knocked his sword out of the way and scrambled to get out of the way, slipping on blood, whose it was I had no idea, and landed right next to the pile of weapons. Jim laughed, seeing me temperately out of action, and came in the kill, but I saw just what I was looking for, the shaft of a spear. I chucked my sword at him as a distraction, which he knocked out of the way with a laugh.
"If you want to kill me, you'll have to try harder." He insisted.
"Oh, I am." I insisted, jumping to my feet and hurtling the spear right at his chest. Obviously Jim didn't see that coming, because he blocked it too late, with a sickening crack I could hear the sword impale right through his heart, and, on the verge of dying, he stumbled backward with the impact, toppling over the railing and falling to his death. No scream was heard, but I heard a thump when his body landed on the floor. He was dead. I couldn't celebrate my victory, I couldn't mourn over Greg's death, I couldn't crush Moran's skull, there were more important matters, more desperate matters, that needed to be attended to.
"John?" I asked, rushing towards him and untying the rope holding his right hand up. With difficulty I held him on my shoulder, slashing through the ropes around his legs with a knife and untying the last rope around his left arm, holding his weak, bloody body on my shoulder and carrying him gently over to the side, away from the pools of blood. There was still some water left over, so I poured it ever so slightly into his mouth, hoping that would help a little bit. His once golden hair was matted with blood, his ghostly pale, handsome face marked with scars and bruises, his chest completely torn open. I ripped what was left of my shirt and tried to stop the bleeding, putting pressure on the wound and flushing it out with whatever water was left, ignoring my parched throat. I knew that it wouldn't be long until my own blood joined this mix, but that didn't matter right now. I had to bring John back to reality, I had to at least say goodbye before I shoved my own sword through my chest. Suddenly though, John's lips started to move, his eyes blinking open weakly.
"John." I muttered with relief, pushing his blood soaked bangs from his forehead and stroking the side of his face like a caring mother.
"Sherlock...what happened?" he muttered, trying to pick up his head, but I held it down.
"You're injured, but it's all right now." I assured.
"You killed them?" he muttered in shock.
"I killed Jim, Greg came, he killed Moran." I assured.
"Where is he?" John asked, looking around as if Greg were hiding somewhere.
"Jim killed him." I sighed.
"So it's just us?" he asked.
"It's just us." I agreed.
"Well then..." John started.
"I know, I know what it means." I assured, not wanting to think about it yet. I needed to get him to safety, that's all that mattered. 
"Help me up." John insisted.
"No, you need to stay down, you're injured horribly." I insisted.
"I'm going to stand, I'll die anyway." John decided.
"No, you're going to live." I insisted.
"Sherlock, help me up." John demanded. I sighed heavily, but I couldn't deny him anything anymore. I got to my feet, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet. John swayed on the spot, and for a moment I thought he was going to pass out again, but he was alright. The blood was starting to leak once more from his chest, and I pushed the makeshift rag I had to the deep cut.
"They knocked me out?" he asked, leaning on the railing for support.
"You passed out from blood loss I assume." I guessed. He tried to look past me at the carnage, but I blocked his view. He didn't need to know what had happened, he didn't need proof.
"Don't look over there." I insisted.
"Why not?" he asked.
"It's horrible." I muttered.
"How'd you kill Jim?" he asked, sounding proud.
"Spear." I muttered. John's lips cracked into a bloody smile, but his eyes were loving.
"I knew you could do it Sherlock, I knew there was more in you than you gave yourself credit for." He insisted.
"It's nothing to be proud of. Greg was the real hero, if it weren't for him you would've been missing a couple of rib bones, and I'd probably have fallen to my death." I insisted.
"Well, he died a hero and he will remain that way." John assured.
"Is it too soon?" I asked.
"Yes." John agreed, not needing me to clarify. We both knew what we had to do, it was only us two alive, and there could only be one survivor. All cameras were on us now, and I was sure everyone we ever knew was in tears at the moment, all of our fans trying to decide who would take the sword.
"John you have to let me die." I insisted, feeling a tear drop from the corner of my eye. "You have to."
"No, Sherlock, I'm already injured; I'm useless, you have so much to live for." John demanded.
"The only thing I live for is you, and if you're gone, I won't be living at all." I assured, pulling him into my arms and hugging him. John set his head on my shoulder, hugging me back, but he was weak, and he was clinging to me for support more than anything else.
"If you're gone, what do I do?" he asked.
"You live on, you remember me, you go tell our story, you live the life I gave up." I insisted, staring into his chocolate eyes, so damaged for someone so young. So innocent, so beautiful. My John.
"I love you Sherlock." He muttered.
"I love you too, of course I love you." I agreed. He stood up on his tip toes and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, the metallic taste of blood lingering.
"I'll never love anyone again." he assured.
"You better not." I agreed with a forced laugh, but it came out as more of a sob than anything. Both of us had tears streaking down our faces as we embraced each other for the last time. I leaned down and kissed him again, longer this time, letting our love flow through to each other, the only light in this dark, dark time. But I was prepared, I was ready, I knew my death was imminent the moment I stepped into this arena, and it was time.
"I can't do this myself." I muttered, pulling away ever so slightly so that my words were so close to his lips.
"You're asking me to kill you?" he asked, his voice in a croak.
"Yes. Molly was right, I can't do it." I insisted.
"Why not?" he muttered.
"Because I tried. Before we went into the arena, I was so close to picking up that knife, but I couldn't do it. You're going to have to." I insisted.
"If that's what you want." John agreed.
"Thank you John, thank you so much." I said, pressing yet another kiss to his lips. I stepped away and picked up a knife, a clean one that had only been used to cut him down from the ropes.
"Make it fast." I begged.
"Sherlock, I can't just kill you!" John insisted.
"You said you will, you promised." I reminded him, taking his hand and wrapping his fingers around the handle of the knife. "I love you." I repeated. John wrapped his arms around me once more.
"I'll never forget you Sherlock; I'll never let anyone forget you." He insisted.
"I know, John, I know. Just promise me you won't be sad, promise that you won't mourn, I'm dying because I need to, I'm dying for you." I assured. We broke apart and I took a step back, feeling my legs turn numb in fear as I waited for my death.
"Close your eyes Sherlock. I don't want you to see this." John insisted. I nodded, feeling one of his hands grasp mine in fear, our sweaty fingers interlocking one last time. All I could see was the blackness of my eye lids, I could feel the fear, the nerves of what pain was about to come building up in my chest, feel the tears rolling down my cheeks.
"I love you Sherlock." John muttered. "And I'm sorry." I felt him shift his weight, and I heard a small gasp, but I felt no pain as his fingers turned limp and fell away from my own.