The last fall

First chapter!

"Sherlock?" I asked seeing the detective sitting on the kitchen floor, bouncing a ball against the counter. Something was bothering him. "Mm?" He responds without even looking up at me. "What's the matter?" He shrugs. "Nothing." We stand there for a moment in complete silence. Not a word being spoken. He suddenly lunges up and makes his way across the flat to the coffee table to retrieve his phone, totally disregarding the furniture. He picks it up and immediately starts typing away, his face a mask of something resembling anger. "John," he says. "There's something that I need to tell you. You can't freak out or anything, though. Okay?" I look at him slightly confused and then nod my head. "A verbal response would be nice." Sherlock looks at me expectantly.

"Yeah, ok. Go ahead and tell me then."

"Moriarty is back." He said simply.

"I'm sorry, what?" I was suddenly wondering if I heard him right.

"He's back, John, he's alive."

"Yes, I got that part. But how?"

"I've many theories on that, but they can wait. He's just given us a new case!" The detective exclaimed excitedly. "Come along then." Sherlock walks toward the door, grabbing his coat and scarf, then making his way out onto Baker Street. I followed without hesitation. The cab ride to the Yard was fairly short considering the light traffic that morning. Once we got there Lestrade approached us. It was obvious even to me that he was bursting with questions. "Sherlock, is-is Jim Moriaty back at it?" Sherlock rolled his eyes and took the case file from the DI's hands. "Well, answer me." Lestrade said. "Yes, of course he's back. It's obvious, isn't it?" Sherlock answered, his usual ignorance dripping from his voice. "Yeah, I know. But how? How is that bastard alive? I saw his body!" Lestrade practically shouts, throwing his hands in the air. He had almost the same reaction I did. I laughed a little at that. "Does it matter? He's back for God's sake and we have a case!" I could tell he was getting slightly frustrated. "Alright then, fine. I'll let you look at the crime scene. Just follow us in a cab or something." Lestrade shakes his head, admitting defeat.

We get to the crime scene almost half an hour later. The room was dark and dank, a slight orange light emitting through the stain glass window on the right wall. A dead body of a woman was laying in the middle of it. It reminded me hugely of the fist case Sherlock and I solved- A Study in Pink. Except, she had brown hair instead of blonde and she was dressed from head to foot in blue. Sherlock immediately bent down beside the body and began inspecting it. "John, tell me what you think. I need outside oppinions." Sherlock ordered. I did as I was told, bending down beside the lady. After a minute of studying I found little. "Well, she's in her early thirties, married, has a dog of some sort, and she died by somehow suffocating." I turned next to Lestrade to address him. "When she goes to the lab, could you do an autopsy and check if there's any water in her lungs?" He did a quick nod. "Yeah, sure." I gave my attention back to Sherlock. "Very good, John. You've noted all the obvious things." Sometimes I wondered if he only asks me what I think so I'll feel stupid. I noticed something then, that I should've taken more note of when we first walked in. Beside the lady's head was the word "reich", as if it were talking about the Third Reich. There was another possibility, but my mind refused to think it. Sherlock's face was tight as he examined the word more closely. "Reich," he murmured under his breath. "This looks almost just like A Study in Pink, doesn't it?" Lestrade asks. I hate to admit it, but he does blurt out fairly obvious statements occaisonally. "We're done here. There's not going to be any more killings following this one. This was a message. I've been expecting it." Sherlock's voice was low, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "What do you mean a message?" I asked, curious. "I'll explain later. Just trust me on this."

"Okay," I agreed.

~~(Flashback) Sherlock's POV~~

I sat across from Moriarty in our living room. Me in my chair, and him in John's. It bothered me to see him sit there, it wasn't his seat. He didn't belong there. He lifted his tea cup up to his lips and took a small sip, staring at me over the brim. "Well Sherl, it looks like we both faked our deaths, huh? Maybe you're smarter than Id been brought to think. You were just playing dumb on that rooftop, weren't you? Very clever of you Sherlock, very clever indeed." I inclined my head a little to the side, almost in defiance. "It's a shame what I got to do now, I bet you've already figured it out and agree with me. You faked your death, and your friends lived, so this time it's not a game. Consider the game paused. It's either your life or Mrs. Hudson's, DI Lestrade's, and poor Johnny's. You've got to pick. No getting out of it this time. I've had far enough of you and your 'friends'." Moriarty continued, spitting the last word. I remained quiet for a minute. "The game is never over. There may be some new players, and that's ok. But it's never over." I say, a hint of acidity in my voice. He stands up to leave, gently placing the tea cup on the table, making a point to make sure the crown on the front was turned towards me. "Bye Sherlock!" He sang. "Oh, and don't forget the man with the key is king, and honey, I already own the crown." He added, taking his time walking down the stairs, hands stuffed in his pockets. He opened the door, but before he stepped out and closed it he turned his head towards me and gave me a small half smile. The other half of his face remained expressionless. I watched him with a cold stare until he shut the door, and then I continued to stare at the door for a moment before I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and turned and walked back up the stairs.

Once we got back to the flat I barely said a word. I stalked over to the couched and flopped down on it, folding my hands underneath my chin as if I were praying. That lady was a message sent to me by none other than Jim Moriaty. He told me he'd send me a reminder. I guess that body was it. My phoned dinged and I looked over at it and read the message from where it sat on the side table. "Seven more days, Sherlock. Have you made up your mind? I guess we'll find out soon enough.-JM" My jaw clenched and un-clenched. John looked at me from his arm chair. "What's got you mad this time?" He jokes. "It's nothing, you'll find out all too soon." I say and close my eyes again. They had only been closed for a minute before my phone went off again. I knew who it was before I even read the message. "Don't forget you're not allowed to tell little Johnny. Or anyone for that matter. It would really ruin the fun.

-JM" "I wasn't planning on it. -SH" I sent back, unwilling to type anything else. One week. One week was all I had before I had to leave John all over again. There had to be a way to tell him that Moriaty wouldn't find out. There had to be. This time I don't think I'll be coming back, so I thought it'd be best to prepare John before it happens. When he wasn't watching, I looked over at him sorrowfully. As much as I hate to admit it, I love him. What ever happened to the concept of sentiment being a chemical defect on the loosing side? I didn't know. I spent the next two days brainstorming on how to let him know I'd be leaving. For the rest of the time I busied myself with cases from Lestrade. Solving two a day, sometimes even three. And the experience was all the more wonderful because John was with me every step of the way. Finally, it was the night of my death. It wouldn't be like last time, so I'd have to leave a note some other way. I decided it'd be easier on him if I just told him I'd gone away. I sat down at the desk and took out a peice of paper and began writing. Once finished, I looked over the final product. It read;

Dear John,

I regret having to leave on such short notice. Believe me, I've wanted to tell you for quite some time but I just couldn't bring myself to. I didn't want to hurt you-I still don't but it has to be done. This way is better than the alternative. I'm not sure how to put it, so I'll just tell you as it is; I'm leaving. That much you've probably already gathered, going off the beginning of the note. But for good this time, if I didn't have to leave I wouldn't. It's nothing for you to worry about, so don't come searching for me. I'm sorry to leave you. And one more thing; I never had the courage to tell you before, so here it is; John Watson, I love you. You have made my life better in so many ways, but now I have to leave. And under no circumstances are you allowed to do anything stupid, such as hurt yourself. Once again, I'm sorry and goodbye.

~Your best friend,

Sherlock Holmes

I sighed and placed the paper on top of his laptop where I knew he'd find it and began to walk down the stairs, waiting for the text from Moriarty telling me where I'd die. I already had a pretty good idea, but just to make sure. I got it not a second later. "Reichenbach Falls. Come and play. -JM" I shoved my phone in my pocket and caught a cab there. How I managed to get one at this hour, I wasn't sure.

A little while later I ended up on the top of Reichenbach Falls. The roaring water rushing below me, spraying me with a cool mist. Moriarty stood before me, dressed very nicely in what I could only assume to be a Westwood suit. "So, Sherly, how is old Johnny boy doing? Have you told him yet?" He smirked. "He's doing fine, he'll hardly notice I'm gone." I tried to keep my voice as neutral as possible. "Oh, well isn't that nice. Trying to protect him, huh? He's not in any danger as long as you jump, Sherlock. He's really not. Now, straight to buisness. You know what you've got to do. And while you do it, I'm going to film it. And maybe show it to little Johnny. He'll enjoy that. Won't he?" Jim paused and looked at me questioningly. "I suppose he would." I replied, my voice tense. He takes a deep breath. "Well, I've got to say it has been a pleasure working with you. The great Sherlock Holmes. World's only consulting detective. It'll be a real shame to see you go." He takes out a video camera and presses record. He then motions to me with his other hand to walk towards the edge. I can feel the front of my feet dangling above the waters. I wasn't scared. I knew I was saving the people I cared about the most. And with that I closed my eyes, spread my arms as I had done the previous time, and jumped. It was actually more like a fall than a jump. The whole way down I could feel my wool coat billowing behind me and my arms flailing in cirlcles, almost as if they were trying to gain balance for some reason. My chest stung as I hit the fast waters head on. The currents engulfed me and I was immediately sucked under. As my lungs started to burn, I blacked out.

(So, yeah. That was chapter one. I hope you liked it and hopefully my writing abilities will get better with time.

~Em)