The Genius (A Sherlock FanFic) [COMPLETED]

Chapter Twenty One

"Oh, thank god."

Heather's vision slowly expanded, her eyes adjusting from the endless dark to the extreme bright. She was still squinting when her head suddenly throbbed with pain. She moved her hands to push herself up into a sitting position.

"Take it easy."

Heather blinked away some white spots dancing in her vision and looked towards where the voice was coming from, "John." He was sitting in a chair next to her.

"Heather," he breathed out a sigh, "They said it was just a sedative, but, I was so- I thought maybe- I couldn't handle- I'm just glad you're alive."

"What happened?" Heather asked, trying to remember anything from before now. She looked around her at the bleak, white walls, floor, and ceiling. She noticed that she was laying in a bed. She was in a hospital. "Why am I here?" The fog in her mind was slowly clearing.

John looked hesitant to talk, "They said you were injected with a sedative. I'm guessing by Moriarty."

Pieces were coming back to her. Heather confronting Moriarty on the roof. Him grabbing her around the neck. A sharpness in her neck. Sherlock beside her. Sherlock.

"Where's Sherlock?" Heather asked looking around the room.

John's face fell. He looked down, avoiding Heather's eye.

"John? Where's Sherlock? Where's Moriarty?"

John took a deep breath, "Moriarty's dead. He shot himself in the head."

Heather was shocked, but at the same time, relieved. This thorn in her, John, and Sherlock's, side was gone forever. Sherlock....

"And Sherlock? I'm guessing the assassins are gone now so he's probably-"

"He's dead, Heather," John interjected, "He's dead."

"What?"

"He jumped. To save us. The assassins couldn't be stopped unless...." John pursed his lips and looked away, "Excuse me, I-" John got up and left the room.

Heather sat there, not knowing what to think. Sherlock is dead. He's gone. 

But he couldn't have jumped. He wouldn't have. Would he? They had the upper hand, she thought. They were going to get the code. They were going to stop him.

But, Moriarty had the code. And he was dead. Probably killed himself before Sherlock jumped, forcing him to do it. But, he would have found another way. He did when he was on the ledge before, when he figured out that there was a code to call off the assassins. 

Molly would know what to do.

Sherlock's words echoed in Heather's mind. She could see him standing on the ledge, staring at her. 

Molly.

It finally clicked.

Heather swung her legs over the bed and onto the floor. A wave of dizziness washed over her. She sat there for a moment to let it pass. Then, she stood up and walked over to the door to get out of the room. 

Heather had a feeling that there was someone that she needed to talk to.

***

"There's all the stuff, all the science equipment. I left it all in boxes, I don't know what needs doing. I thought I'd take it to a school," Mrs. Hudson looked at John, "Would you-"

"I can't go back to the flat, again. Not at the moment," John replied. He was staring at the grave in front of him, Sherlock's grave. In fact, they all were. Heather, John, and Mrs. Hudson all lined up in a row about 6 feet away from the headstone.