Classroom 223-a Sherlock fanfiction

The Final Chapter (Rosie's POV)

(Please listen to the song above as it fits with this chapter and makes it more depressing :). )

'Mama, just killed a man.
Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he's dead.
Mama, life had just begun.
But now I've gone and thrown it all away...'

I shoot without thinking. I watch as his body falls backwards from impact. I watch as crimson leaks from the wound in his chest, snaking it's way down the cracks of the tiles. I watch as he coughs and splutters my name beckoning me to join him. I walk beside his body and kneel down next to him, the blood seeping into my trouser front. Sherlock caresses my face forcing a smile through the pain. "This...this isn't your fault...Rosie. I let it...happen. Now...whatever happens now...I won't be there for...you. So you have...have to be brave...and strong...like I know you...can. My...time...is...up. But...your time...isn't. Everyone will...know your name...Detective Rosie...I'm sorry that...that it had to end...this way...that I was never...a great father...to you...or that I never...found you in...time. One thing...you are forgiven...always and completely forgiven...I never had the chance...to really say...how amazing...and clever...and wonderful...you are...And it was my...pleasure to...bring you up...with John...John...if you ever see him...again...tell him I...love him...And I suppose...if it's my last chance to...say it," He lets out a half-laugh, half-sob, "Rosie Watson, I...love you...never forget that...never forget everything...we did..."
I watch as his hand brushes off my face, painting it with a red stroke as it falls to his side. I watch as his eyes flutter back into his skull. I watch as all life drains from him all together. And I sit there in the shallow lights of the pool-Everything we did together, everything we lost, it all comes fleeting back. The memories come back all at once. Birthdays, cases, hugs, everything we ever did. Everything that we'll never do again- I scream in anguish, cowering over my Fathers dead body, tears streaming out like a waterfall, salt scorching my eyes. I scream, again, and again, and again. I scream until all the wind has left my body. I scream until my lungs burst. I scream until the ground shakes, until the whole world turns upside down. My head is rested on his chest as I sob into his cotton white shirt, leaving damp marks behind. I'm engulfed in blood, it's on my hands, my knees and my head. I don't know what to do anymore. I killed him, I killed my Dad. My dad is dead. I don't want to leave my Fathers body. I don't care anymore, Moriarty can do what he wants to me. "Wake up Dad...wake up...don't be dead...please say it's just another one of your magic tricks..." He doesn't respond to my cries, just lays there in the stillness. I bury my face back into his shirt, still sobbing at his side, face stinging and puffy. Then I hear the door creak open and several pairs of feet walking in, clicking against the tiles. I don't care anymore. Two hands roughly grab me by the arms and force me to get up but I refuse as I tighten my grip on Sherlock's body. I don't want to leave him. "Let go of me!" I yell as I try my hardest to cling onto Dad's shirt, but in one swift pull I am yanked off. The hands are dragging me away from his body but aren't leaving the pool. "Get off!" I writhe in their grip, kicking and hitting my way out, but it's no use. I inch my head around to see Sebastian Moran and a familiar figure at the end of the room. Moriarty pulls a playful grimace at Sherlock's body and laughs to himself as he steps over it. "Wow, what a show!," he applauds, "I truly never expected this Miss Watson...aw poor little thing. Look, you killed your Dad!" This man shows no remorse at all, grinning to himself. I've done what he wants. I've killed his enemy. The prying detective. James is front of me now, observing me with those sinister eyes. "Yikes, you're covered dear." He winces as he spots all the blood that is smothered on my face. "Sebastian, let go of her." A wave of relief sweeps over me as Sebastian releases me from his painful grip. Why is he letting me go? I don't bother asking. And I don't bother escaping. James takes the white handkerchief from the blazer pocket of his Westwood suit, bends down and dips it in the pool. He rinses it out and steps right into my face. "Stay still dear." He places one finger under my chin, moving it to each side as he swipes off the blood in one motion. He furrows his eyebrow and brushes the tip of my nose. "Missed a spot." He stuffs the handkerchief back into his pocket. "You're welcome dear." James sings slightly with a smile as I stand there gazing out into nothing. BOOM! The door at the other end of the pool is knocked down as several armed guards come storming in with Mycroft following behind. James sighs in annoyance as he looks down at the lasers dotted on his chest, arching his head to see that Sebastian is covered too. But not me. "Really Mickey Mouse? Is that the best you can do?" James says disappointedly. "Big mistake." He clicks his fingers and in a split second, all of Mycroft's men come tumbling down like dominos. Dead. It must have been from his snipers in the gallery above. Mycroft looks tense, avoiding any eye contact with his brother's corpse on the floor placed in front of him. Sherlock's blood has now descended into the pool, staining a part of it deep red. "Let the girl go James, don't make me threaten you. This wasn't in the plan." Mycroft warns coldly. Wait, what plan?! "Oops!" Jim expresses as he looks at both me and Mycroft, mouth pursed. "You've slipped Mikey, how disappointing. Your poor little niece, such a pet. And to think you made a deal with the Devil." He tuts. "James." Mycroft growls through clenched teeth. "Don't play games with me." Jim says venomously. That's when he does it. He locks his arm around my neck, pulling a gun out of his pocket and forcing the cold metal onto my head. I don't react, I just let it happen. The only thing I do is grab onto the arm cradled around my neck for support as I might fall over. I catch the scene from the corner of my eye. Mycroft looks slightly taken back but is overall unmoved by James's actions. "Now, I don't really like getting my hands dirty, but I just can't help myself sometimes. Can I dear?" He sniggers and I can feel myself gasping for air as his arm is so tight around my neck. I'm digging my nails into his arm but it has no effect because of the thickness of the fabric. "What should I do with her Iceman? I can shoot if you'd like." Even though I can't see James's face, I can feel his sly grin to his comment. "Your choice!" Mycroft  remains silent, fixated on the spot. "Let's deal with this appropiately James." Jim removes his arm from my neck and throws me to the floor at his feet. I'm gasping for breath, coughing violently on the floor. "Do you want to know who put your brother's corpse there? This little thing. How? A simple blow to the head, manipulation of the memory and following emotions...She did all the dirty work for me." He remarks. I lay utterly defeated, sprawled on the floor in all my misery, every inch of me screaming in agony. Only one thought comes to mind, if it's the last thing I do. Sebastian is beside Jim in front of me and they are too busy having a chat with Mycroft to notice my small movements. I gingerly reach for the discarded gun at my side and immediately spring up, aiming it directly at James. They all turn to look at me, Jim with a maniacal grin plastered across his face. "What-what is this? Mycroft, what are you doing?!" I yell at them. I keep switching the gun between the three of them, not knowing who to trust or who to kill. "Rosie, put the gun down. You don't know what you're doing." Mycroft demands. "Oh? Do I? I can shoot either one of you, so who will it be?" I aim it at Sebastian first which makes Jim's eyes glint with fear for a fraction of a second. There, found it. A pressure point. "Jim, do you want me to shoot Sebastian?" I ask him aggressively. Jim shrugs his shoulders as if he doesn't care for the world. "Go ahead dear. Think of it as a waste though, there's only one bullet in that cartridge of yours." Crap. I point it towards Jim who laughs in amusement. "Ennie meenie miney mo, is that what we're playing?" He continues to laugh. I point it back to Mycroft. "Tell me," I demand-nothing, "tell me!" I yell even louder. Before Mycroft can start, Jim interrupts, "I'm afraid, my dear, that your uncle has been a bit of a naughty boy."
"How? What did he do?
"He made a deal with me dear..."
"What deal?"
"Oh, adult things you'll never understand..."
"I'm clever, so don't patronise me!"
"Well dear, certainly not as clever as you think." His mouth forms a line as he looks at Sherlock's body and back to me. "Who was the woman that impersonated my Mother?"
"-that was my sister Eurus. She is contained in that facility because she is out of our control." Mycroft interjects.
"All of these secrets Mycroft...why?"
"What we did Rosie, was to protect you."
"Protect me?" I laugh, "you haven't done a very good job, have you?"
"-agreed." Jim nods. My gun is still trained on Mycroft but I keep flicking it between him and Jim until I get the answer that I want. "Please, just tell me what your deal is, and then you can do whatever you want with me. I don't care anymore." Mycroft takes in a sharp breath, shoots Jim a glare and begins: "It's complicated but I will explain as you are my niece and you have a right to know. Sylvia Wellsbrough, one of our former agents and the one you met, was a fake sent out by myself. She was there to distract Sherlock from the real thing, Top Secret Goverment Plans that could bring our Nation down to its knees and begin World War 3. However, Sylvia failed as she was killed by Moriarty's men before she could stop him- thanks for that. Which meant that the Plans were still out there for Sherlock and him to find. They are, of course, on me. Immediately after, Jim here contacted me as he already obtained imformation on these plans, and threatened me. I however, compensated. Now, without your knowledge dearest Rosie, Sherlock was in contact with me, already knowing about my plans and fake associate. He was onto me and my plans, already making deductions and whatnot. So that left me with a painful dilemma. Let him destroy my life, the Nation and the world or...eliminate him. One man's life over the whole world, any logical person would pick the man. So, I had to get rid of Sherlock, but I couldn't do it myself. As you should know, Jim already loathes Sherlock so I get him, along with the help of my sister, to kidnap and manipulate your memories over time. Therefore, finally bringing you to the point where you would kill him, which you did. Sherlock would've never seen it coming, his own daughter taking his life away in the blink of an eye..." I let the information sink in for a second before an overwhelming sense of anger smacks me hard across the face. "You monster!" I scream at him, my words bouncing off the walls, reverbing into Mycroft. "Rosie...I'm sorry. Just put the gun down and I can sort this out..." He looks at me with a hint of sadness glittering in his empty sockets. I see Seb about to make a grab for me but catch Jim motioning for him to retreat from the corner of my eye. Instead, he walks inbetween me and Mycroft. "Calm down girls!" He yells in exasperation. "I am so tired of hearing you two bickering at each other, the noise!" He looks between us both, eyes open. "Leave it James, we had a deal." Mycroft warns. "Oh, I know. But surely by now Mikey Boy, you must know that I can be so changeable." Jim is probably about to do something incredibly unpredictable, but he doesn't. Instead, he turns back to face me and peers at my chest. "Looks like you have some new decorations dear." I look at my chest and see the familiar flicker of a sniper's aim. It doesn't scare me anymore. "On the topic of that, as I was saying about being changeable, I was going to end Rosie dear's little life but I've decided to leave it for now. The little pet has one last thing to do..." Jim pratically reads my mind in the moment. "James, stand out of her way." Mycroft hisses. "Oh, I'm not in her way." Another smirk. Another second. Another thought. Another choice. Another bullet. Bang! I fire at Mycroft and he grunts, collapsing to the floor as he grasps his shoulder. Now it's my turn. I screw my eyes shut as the sniper takes his aim, welcoming the bullet into my abdomen. I allow myself to fall onto the concrete tiles, letting all of the shouts of men drown in the water. I can feel it now, the fire below from where the bullet pierced me. I let it burn and tear through me. I let the pain flood my mind, let it seep in. My vision is giving in now, hanging onto the last spec which is a figure at my side. Brown hair...navy blue. It's the last person who I thought would be at my side in my final moments. "The last person at your side is the last person you would expect it to be. How...sentimental of me. You weren't too bad in the end I suppose. But I'll tell you one thing, you have proven to me something else...the loyalty that lies in the Holmes'...You killed him dear, both Holmes' in one night. I knew it would kill you in the end." I can only make out his soft whisper in my ear. My breathing is becoming hoarse as I feel my heart slowing, slipping away. I never got to do everything in the end. I only had 12 and a half years, perhaps I can do it in my dreams. White light shrouds me in it's blanket and I am stolen away up into the clouds. Sherlock is waiting for me, like he always did, at the golden gates, hand outstretched. I grasp onto his hand as he fixes his deerstalker on my head. "Come along Detective Watson-Holmes, I found a new case to solve." And together, we walk through the Final Case. Death.

He remains there at her side during her final breaths and heart beats. He stays at her side because there is no one else. How can this psychopath feel for this little girl he only knew as dear? You tell me. But maybe because, in the end, he admired her for her own form of brilliance, reminding him of an old friend from his younger days. There's another thing hidden in his pocket, a silver necklace that he gave her, in his words 'a token of love'. At the time, it was manipulation, but now it is not. He pulls the dainty thing from his pocket and places it in her hand which he then moves to her chest. A little kiss on the head too, just as a final goodbye. Then with a sigh, he stands up, brushing himself off and joining his man at the side. "Come on, it's time we leave this place."

The End

(That last bit leads on to a part in my new fanfiction about Moriarty in his younger years. Several chapters are up already, it's called 'The Rose in the Spider's Web'. Ok that's it for this mess oof, I'm so sorry for making you cry but I couldn't resist a touch of drama-hehe-This took me just under 2 months to write and I appreciate you soooo much for reading this. I did the calculations and it is a grand total of 45,436 words! Sorry if it made no sense WHATSOEVER but this was an improvised fanfiction originally built on the idea of Moriarty impersonating a teacher. Once again I'm sorry for killing our main peeps and RIP Jawn. But thank you so so so so so much for reading. Also sorry if I ripped your heart out...I've practically burnt the heart out of you.)