Sherlock oneshots

Sheriarty~ dead

I've been doing a lot of sheriarty recently, but this story literally doesn't fit any other ship so what choice do I have? Plus I love this ship, leave me alone :)

Sherlock stood over his limp figure, staring down into his shiny eyes that reflected the sky above.

"Is he dead?" Lestrade asked, looming behind the detective along with a few members of Scotland Yard. Sherlock didn't respond, locking eyes with the body.

He felt a presents next to him, turning to see John staring down at the man on the floor. He knelt down and put his finger in the blood, needing it between his finger and thumb before finally feeling for a pulse.

The room was silent for a few seconds as John felt for the beat. He got back up and turned to the rest of Scotland Yard. "Good riddance." He hissed. Greg nodded, understanding fully.

Jim Moriarty, was dead.

Sherlock just stared over the corpse, not moving, bearly blinking.

"So who killed him?" John spat, almost happy with the murder. Sherlock grunted.

"He did, it was a suicide." The taller man said gruffly, not lifting his gaze from Jim. "Hes got the gun in his left hand, his dominant one, so he wasn't framed. His palms are also dented where he was holding the gun so well gripped. He killed himself."

Everyone glanced down at the body confusedly, looking back at Sherlock. "Why?" Sherlock shrugged, looking back at the group of detectives waiting patiently for his next instruction. "Is it alright if I, examined the body closer, alone? Might help me work out his reasons." He asked.

Greg timidity nodded, signalling the group of eager cops out into the hallway. John followed reluctantly, checking behind him to lock eyes with the taller man every few seconds before shutting the room door.

Sherlock looked down at Jim's body, his face calm. He wasn't smiling demonically, his eyes were shut peacefully and his mouth in a pressed line with a streak of blood running from it down his chin.

Sherlock sniggered. "You can give it up now Jim, it's just you and me. Knock it off, you're not fooling me." He announced. Silent.

"Come on." He nudged Moriarty's shoulder with his foot. Slowly he bent down to kneel next to the body. "Jim." He said sternly.

There wasn't any response.

Sherlock, he's dead. You know he is, sEe he shot himself, you know that.

But he can't be dead, he's never dead, he always comes back.

He's Jim Moriarty. He always comes back.

The detective found himself shaking Jim's lifeless body by the shoulders, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. "Jim knock it off! You're not dead! You can't be!" He yelled.

Opening his eyes, fogged by tears, he could feel the cold blood on his hands and knees. Giving up and falling into a fit of sobs, Sherlock pressed Moriarty's body body against his chest in a hug. "No, please."

Jim Moriarty is not dead. Jim Moriarty is not dead.

He felt the blood leak through his coat, still dripping from the gunshot wound in the side of his head.

His eyes are red. He was crying. The dents in his palms indicate it took him a while to shoot, he was clutching onto the body of the gun out of anxiety. Spot of ink on his left wrist. He was writing with an inky pen.

Wiping his eyes and laying Jim back down, Sherlock glanced around the room for any sign of a note or letter. He spotted a small piece of ripped paper on the desk.

Who else would be reading this other than Sherlock Holmes. Hello Sherlock. If you're reading this, I'm dead. Hopefully anyway, if my plan goes well, which they always do. Reasons for my death? Boredom. I simply just got tired of living amongst the normal people, having people solve my murders that weren't you, average people. They don't understand me like you do, we're very alike. See you in hell, Sherly~ JM

Sherlock grunted, looking down at the bloodstained body. He didn't kill himself for something to do, but he couldn't admit that.

Tear stain on the paper, feelings, human error Jim.

Sherlock, knelt down next to Jim, pressing a kiss against his cold lips. In some weird way, he could feel Jim kissing him back from somewhere else, in another world.

"It's been fun Jim." The detective whispered, before opening the room door and looking back down for a second, then shutting it behind him.

Breaking news!
Psychopath and murderer James Moriarty found dead this morning in a B and B near the outskirts of London.
Detective Sherlock Holmes blames the death on suicide via gunshot to the head.
People are questioning the detectives relations to the consulting criminal, a picture found earlier in the week of the two in a picture, seemingly voluntary.
Easy to say, are we better off with James Moriarty out of the picture?

Miss me Sherly?