Organised Chaos - Sherlock x Reader

XXXI • 31

Sherlock's POV:

I felt so bad about leaving you there. You were so worried, rightly so, but I couldn't tell you the whole truth. The truth was that I expected him to kill me. I suppose I hadn't lied to you, since there wasn't a way to know for sure. But from what I knew about him, I was about 97% certain that he would at least try to kill me.
I sighed. At least I'd said goodbye. John hadn't been there. I hoped that he'd be able to come before I- no. You were right. I couldn't think that way.
I made my way to the lab. It was a bit early and there was always work to do there.

I had just finished an experiment involving an ear and a formaldehyde mixture when my phone buzzed.

The roof. I'm waiting. - JM

I cleaned up-- I never did that, but I wanted to keep him waiting, then mounted the stairs to the roof, taking my time. It took me several minutes, and when I got near the door to the roof, I heard that seventies disco song- Staying Alive. I had to smile at that. A criminal mastermind listening to the Bee Gees. It was a rather amusing concept.
My smile disappeared when I opened the door and stepped onto the roof. He was sitting on the concrete barrier that kept people from going too close to the edge, his back turned. He turned off the music.
Without turning to face me, he spoke, "You took your dear sweet time. Weren't you looking forward to this?"
I hummed, pretending to actually think about my answer. "Mmm, not really." I said.
He turned toward me, fake disappointment plastered across his face. "That's unfortunate. But don't worry. When we're through here, you won't ever have to see me again, in fact, you won't have to see anyone ever again."
I nodded. "97%" I responded.
"Of what?" He asked.
"97% sure that you would try to kill me today."
"Try to?" He laughed. "I'm going to kill you, Sherlock."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that."
Moriarty tsked. "You underestimate me, Mr. Holmes."
"And you, I." I replied.
He chuckled, although it lacked humour. "You're right. But Sherlock, I've beaten you. There is no possibility of your getting off this roof alive."
"And why is that?" I asked calmly.
"Because sentiment, Sherlock. It's my greatest weapon against you. If it wasn't for sentiment, I'm not sure I could've beaten you so easily."
"Is that so?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, trying to conceal my rising anxiety.
"It's so easy!" Moriarty shook his head sadly. "So easy. All I have to do is hold a gun to your little lover's head and you'll beg and plead and do anything I want. You are my puppet. John too. You'll do anything for John." He grinned maniacally.
"You haven't a scrap of human decency, do you?" I clenched my jaw but didn't falter.
Now it was his turn to pretend to consider his answer. After a moment, he spoke. "Mmm. No."
"You are a monster." I replied, grinding my teeth.
"I know!" He sang. His face returned to it's stony default. "But let's get this over with. I'm not going to kill you, but you're going to die. So hop to it. Or should I say, jump?" He grinned.
"Why would I do that?" I snarled.
"Because," he said with a smile, "I will kill your friends if you don't kill yourself." He said it as though it was the simplest thing ever.
It was simple, but it wasn't easy.
I glanced down, seeing the busy streets below. He caught the movement of my eyes.
"Atta boy. Go ahead." He encouraged, as though I were a child learning to ride a bicycle.
"Before I die, I need to ask, how did you know about the drug den? And how did you know to text Bill?"
"Oh Sherlock..." He looked so disappointed in me. "You don't think you're the only one with a homeless network, do you?" He smirked.
I wasn't expecting that answer, but I refused to allow my reaction to show. "I see." I responded.
"Do you now?"
I ignored him, scanning the surrounding buildings instead. The trajectory, height, width, distance and positioning all came into play as I silently surveyed my options.
He rolled his eyes, getting up from where he'd been sitting.
"Sherlock, we can't put this off any longer."
I continued to calculate my chances in my head, not bothering to look at him as though I couldn't care less. "We have a timeframe now, do we?"
"I will kill them." That's all he said.
I finally looked toward him, my gaze fiery.
He backed away, his hands up in fake surrender. "Whoa! If looks could kill, I'd be the one in danger." He said innocently. "But of course, we both know that's ridiculous." His face hardened.
"Please tell me," I ground my teeth, trying to keep calm, "Exactly how you plan to ensure this?"
"Oh, that's simple. I'm surprised you haven't figured that out yet. I've got four of my best assassins trained on the four people who mean the most to you. Unless they see you kill yourself- jumping is most convenient in this case, but really I don't care how you do it- they will shoot." He smiled.
"But I don't need to die. All I need is to have you. They're not going to shoot if I have you." I smiled slyly at him.
He brightened. "Oh! You think you can make me call them off? That's brilliant! I like that way you think. We really are alike, you and I."
I walked around him, looking him over, taking in every bit of information I could. From what I could see, he was very much like myself. But even I couldn't be so cold.
"Well Sherlock, I wish it didn't have to come to this, because you're right, as long as I'm alive, you can save your friends. But I came prepared." He pulled a gun out of his pocket and held it on me for a moment.
For one moment, I was terrified. I was afraid I wouldn't have a chance. Then, something happened. Something even I hadn't been able to foresee.
He turned the gun on himself, and fired.
I was in shock.
My hands shaking, I sent two texts, one to you, one to John.
St. Bart's. Come quickly, please - SH
St. Bart's. Now - SH

I knew you'd be the first to respond. John was likely just leaving work. I closed my eyes, and stepped up to the edge.