The Game Is On (Johnlock)

Reichenbach

Heeeeyyyyy! Me again! I know I just started this book, but I'm a little trigger-happy and also a little more than a little afraid to fall asleep at the mo'. So! You guys get two updates in the same morning. Or so I hope.  So here's another, hopefully if this works out the way I want it to, angsty Johnlock! As per usual, inspired by photo above. Love you's!

and_here_you_are xoxo

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"Hello?"

"John."

"Hey, Sherlock. Are you okay?"

"Turn around and walk the way you came."

"No. I'm coming in."

"Just . . . do as I ask. Please."

"Where?"

"Stop there."

"Sherlock."

"Okay. Look up. I'm on the rooftop."

"What?"

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

"What's going on?"

"An apology. It's all true."

"What?"

"Everything they said about me.  I invented Moriarty."

"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?"

"No one could be that clever."

"You could."

"I researched you. Before we met, I discovered everything I could to impress you. It's a magic trick. It's just a magic trick."

"No. Alright. Stop it now."

"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move."

"Alright."

"Keep your eyes fixed on me. Please, will you do this for me?"

"Do what?"

"This phone call . . . it's . . . er . . . my note. That's what people do, don't they? Leave a note?"

"Leave a note when?"

"Good-bye, John."

"No. Don't. NO! SHERLOCK!"

John Watson stared on in horror as William Sherlock Scott Holmes gracefully jumped off the rooftop of St. Bartholomew's Hospital to his death. He ran to the body slumped on the pavement that was quickly being surrounded by passersby wanting to see the great Sherlock Holmes dead on the ground. John tried to shove through the large group of people, but they wouldn't let him through.

"Sher  . . . Sherlock. Sherlock.  I'm a doctor. Let me come through. Let me come through. Please. No. He's my friend. He's my friend. Please. Please. Just let me . . . nggh. Jesus, no. God, no." John knelt on the ground by Sherlock's body and cried. He could've stopped him. He could have saved him. He tried to keep Sherlock on the phone but Sherlock hung up. And after he hung up, he . . . he . . . he jumped.