BBC Sherlock Imagines

Sherlock: The Reversal of Reichenbach

Request for moriartysdead

~

You put one foot on the edge, and then another. People walked on by below you, chatting on their mobiles and sipping their overpriced coffee. From up here, everything seemed silly. The whole premise of worldly pleasures and material wants was ridiculous when people were dying, or about to. Those small figurines below you had no idea what was going on above their heads, literally and figuratively. Your phone buzzed, and you reached in your pocket for it.

I'm waiting, it read.

"Okay okay I'm going," you said out loud, knowing he would be able to hear you somehow. Your mind was blank from shock - it wasn't everyday you had to jump off of a building to your death. But love made you do some crazy things. You tried to move your feet around, but they were glued to the concrete, numb. You eyed a stain of pink on the ground below, making that the point which you were to aim towards and fall to. Your mind wandered. Was that stain from the fake blood Sherlock had used when he had jumped to his "death" so many years before in this same spot? How ironic that I stand up here, on the edge of St. Bart's, ready to end my life to save another's. Your phone buzzed again, and your groaned. I'm going to die, can't he at least let me take some time to prepare myself? But it kept buzzing, and you realized you had a call. It was Sherlock. Your hand shook as you slid to answer it, and then held it up to your ear. You took a moment to gather yourself, then finally breathed a shaky "Hello?"

"(Y/n)! I'm coming. Don't jump - just stay there!" he yelled, a scared undertone in his voice.

"Sherlock," you sighed sadly. "Don't come."

"I'm already here," he stated. You looked up, and watched him get out of the taxi. Even from up here you could see his curly hair blowing around crazily in the wind. You were silent. Seeing him down there, it confirmed what you were about to do. His mere presence filled your heart with warmth - he really did mean the world to you. He had done this years ago for you, John, Lestrade, and Mrs. Hudson. It was time you do something for him. "(Y/n)," he begged, his voice cracking slightly. "Please don't."

"Sherlock you don't understand."

"I do," he barked harshly. You flinched, and guilt filled your soul. "You may have forgotten, but I do understand. I understand you want to protect me, but it's my job to protect you now." You were speechless. Your head was spinning. It was too much, this moment right now. It was too real. You felt the bile rising in your stomach. You remembered what it was like to be in Sherlock's position, to be the one planted safely on the ground, pleading to the one you loved. You remembered the hell you experienced for two years; the constant heartaches, the feeling like you had lost yourself, just the pain of it all. it had been the worst two years of your life. But then he had come back and everything was okay again. You had found the part of you that you had lost.

See, you had been wrong this whole time.

This was nothing like what had gone down here years ago because there was no coming back. There was no blow up padding at the bottom to catch you, nor a dead body to put in your place, nor a make up artist or a pulse stopper. There was just you and the ground that would meet each other face to face. You wouldn't be able to surprise Sherlock in a fancy french restaurant or show up unannounced at 221B. He would have to deal with the pain of it for the rest of his life. Or he wouldn't get to live for the rest of his life. It was hard - either choice required you to be selfish. Do you let him live with the pain you did for two years, but for the rest of his life? Or do you save your own life and let the man that had saved lives, and was destined to save many more, be murdered? Your thinking was interrupted.

"He's doing this to destroy me. He knows how much I care about you. Please don't do this (y/n). I can take care of this." His voice calmed you despite it's alert tone."I, I love you." Your breathing stopped, and you let tears slide down your cheek. While he had never said it out loud, it was always implied. And hearing him say it, finally, it made you angry. Angry at Jim Moriarty for making you do what you did next.

"I love you too William Sherlock Scott Holmes. And that's why I can't let you die." You hung up the phone, and set it down next to your feet for someone to retrieve as a souvenir when they got up here. You watched Sherlock running towards where you were to land on the sidewalk, but he was too far, he wouldn't reach you in time. The sidewalk below you was bare, and before your instincts could stop you, you jumped, you fell. And in the few seconds before you hit the ground, you replayed the sound of his voice saying those three words you had waited so long to hear.

Y/N

Announcements/Tidbits:

1. QUEEN OF CRIME HAS BEEN PUBLISHED (well the prologue) ON firstnameisdrayizzle

Hopefully it won't be 10 years till the next update.

@myfirstnameisagent and I are EXTREMELY happy about this and we hope you guys are too!

2. My profile says I'm not following anyone nor do I have any followers. Not sure what's up with that.. But I was at 100+ followers and just wanted to thank you guys for that!

3. I wonder what Moriarty's bedroom looks like... Any ideas?

4. So Gatiss tweeted a picture of the back of Rupert's head and I screamed when I saw it and it is now the background on my phone. I'm not obsessed or anything.

5. #Sherpression sucks but 2017 is only 8 months away lol. (Happy first day of May btw)

6. Random: What is something you are really good at and something you wish you were good at?

7. Also please join "The Mycroft Only Club" started by @canada_or_bust and @xephaniel (It's on the @canada_or_bust profile) 

Again, thank you guys for all the reads, comments, support and most importantly, PATIENCE. You are amazing little children. I have raised you well.

Love you all!

Enjoy your day/night/morning/whatever