COME.AND.PLAY (James Moriarty FanFiction) *Completed*

Chapter Twenty Five - Blackout

~Charlotte~

I began to walk back towards the door, but stopped as I finished wiping my eyes to the sight of James lying there on the cold floor...

I literally couldn't speak. I didn't even approach him. I just stood there. I wanted it to be another one of his silly jokes but he didn't move.

He just didn't move. I backed up slowly and pushed myself through the exit on top of the roof. I held onto the rail tightly as I descended down the steps. I felt sick, weak, feeling like I was about to collapse any second.

As soon as I pushed my way through the big glass doors that was the entrance to the hospital, I stumbled across the road. I saw a crowd around what would be Sherlock's body and my stomach churned as I thought about it.

I couldn't breathe. It was like death had tied my tongue. I mean, when your dead, your dead, there's no turning back. That's it.

My eyes grew heavy as I put my arm out to stop a taxi. I muttered the address of Moriarty's home and I leant back on the seat, shielding myself from the sun.

One I got back home, I threw the money towards the driver and climbed up the marble steps into his house. Once I got inside, I ignored the comments from maids and servants and dragged myself up stairs.

I barely made it inside his office before I shut the door and collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily as the past hour ran through my mind, defining every detail.

I let out a small groan as I heaved myself up. I went into his bedroom and fell on the bed, slowly letting my eyes close, draining away the sorrow.

...............................................

"I'm back......I'm back....I'm coming to get you....I'm coming...." Magnussen's voice trailed around inside my head.

...............................................

I woke up sitting up right quickly.

"No, no, not again." I groaned.

I looked out the window. It was raining considerably hard.

My brain returned to normal function and I realized.

The first and only man I had ever loved was dead.

My brother, who loved me just as much as I loved him, was also dead.

Two of the people who I card about the most was dead.

I really wanted to let my emotions out, but it seemed the sat they had run dry and I couldn't cry, even if I forced myself to.

The pain and anger I felt was undescribable.

Did Sherlock kill James? Would he do such a thing? I wouldn't think so, but I was doubting so much at this init I didn't know what to think.

Then I thought about James. Did he kill himself? Why? Why would he do that? Why would he do that to me?

I got up and opened the window as far as it would go, needing some fresh air. I put my head out of the window. It wasn't enough. I say on the edge, one leg outside, one leg inside the building. I leant against the window frame and let the rain pour down on me.

I felt as if the world had stopped living. I felt like love didn't exist anymore. How can I survive without his love, or how can I survive knowing I'll never see him again. he's the reason I look forward to getting up in the morning to his cuddles and kisses.

How can I cope without James Moriarty?