You Can't Choose Your Friends

The last hurra

So maybe it was the fact that all my friends were dead or the fact that he pulled a gun on John but I was burning with rage at the sight of Morans face.

"Every last one of you will die." He has angry tears on his face, "Today. Not tomorrow or next week, but today." I roll my eyes.

"Really? Couldn't tell. I thought we were just going to party and drink fancy wine." I scoff, "Look, jackass, I just want to go home and stop living like a normal, healthy person because that's what I do. But you're making this difficult-"

"You're mothers last words were 'please don't make me leave Alley alone' and then I stabbed her with a pole." Moran grins and I choke on air, not able to comprehend what he said, "Your father begged for his sons life as I bashes his head in with the same pole. You're brother, he was my favorite to kill off because we had to sell it like he was okay. All he did was, oh and you'll love this, he sat there and let it happen, tears running down his face and right before I was about to reck him, he just said two words. Two goddamned words. 'Screw you'. He thought it was powerful. And Mary Watson. Oh man, she was about to call you when she had the red dot trained in her stomach. And I saw her lips move as she said 'please god let me live'."

"Bastard." John stands up, his fists balled up and his eyes red. Sherlock looks almost as angry. And I was just done. I walk straight into the gun.

"Screw you." I sneer.

"Love it." Moran laughed, cocking the gun and pulling the trigger. But I didn't die. No.

"Ahahahaha!" Sherlock laughed, "Oh dear, which gun did you pick up?"

"The one on the coffee table." Moran tries again and again.

"Oh honey." I give him a sympathetic look before grabbing his wrist and using my fore arm to smack the weapon away from my head, twisting the bastards arm behind his back and walk him half way out the window. "Have a nice trip." I use my foot to sweep his legs out from under him letting go of his arm and letting Sebastian Moran fall. "Self defense." I say through clenched teeth, clutching the gun shot wound. I was bleeding again. Crap.

"Do we need to call a doctor?" Sherlock asks.

"You don't." I shake my head, "just take me home."

"Okay."

~221b~

I winced as John cut the last stitch and put away his medical surprise.

"How are you two doing?" Sherlock asks. John and I just grunt and sit back on the couch to answer. "Oh please-"

"Do we have a case?" I interrupt Sherlock before he has the chance to finish.

"We have been here ten minutes and you're already asking for a case?" John sighs.

"You've known each other for what, five years and you haven't come I terms for your undying love for each other?" I snap. I hear Mrs. Hudson chuckle from the kitchen. "I'll be in my room." I shoot a glare at Sherlock, who's about to make some smart ass remark about something I do to get me back for the whole John times Sherlock love thing.

I lock the door and slide to my computer, logging on to my IM and checking if Mycroft is on.

MH: looking for me?

JC: Oh, good. You're alive. Sherlock told me you went ahead and got yourself Shot.

MH: No, just poisoned. Good job on Moran, my dear.

JC: Oh, him. Yeah, he was pissing me off.

MH: Don't care. I do care about Moriarty, though. He gone?