Chapter 25: He's gone.

If the situation weren't so critical, I would burst out laughing at how ridiculous my brother looks, clearly not used to wielding such as deadly weapon, or wading in nearly this far. But now was no time for laughing.

Moriarty also appeares to be enjoying the scene, he cracks a small smile before returning to his menacing glare that I know only too well.

As Mycroft rounds the corner, he gets a glimpse of John. For a moment, I see the horror and terror in his eyes, but he hides it quickly.

"Moriarty, put the gun down, or I will fire." Mycroft says calmly but firmly.

Moriarty chuckles "I could say the same thing."

I look over to John. He's not really following the action anymore. He's slumped right against the wall and is breathing heavily. We need to get him out of here.

"Mycroft, just tell him what he wants to know so we can get John out of here." I say, sensing the desperation that I cannot quite hide in my voice.

"It's highly secret information that I simply cannot disclose." Mycroft says slowly.

"Ah, come on now, don't ruin the fun." Moriarty says, turning to Mycroft as he does so. He takes a step towards my brother, who takes a step back. Momentarily, Moriarty's attention is not on me.

I take my chance, lunging forwards and pulling Moriarty to the ground. He struggles in my grip, desperately trying to move his hand to a suitable shooting angle. I use all my weight to pin Moriarty to the ground. He squirms and kicks under my weight, wriggling and thrashing in an attempt to break free.

"Sher- " Mycroft tries to say, but he's too late, Moriarty has somehow freed his arm and is pointing the gun at my head. Its barrel is just centimetres from my forehead.

"If anyone moves, I'll pull the trigger, and Sherlock will die." Moriarty says calmly, his psychotic eyes fixed on mine.

I have no idea what to do. By my calculations, I am not able to knock the gun out of Moriarty's hand without him pulling the trigger. Mycroft is also in stunned silence.

Suddenly, the gun swings sideways and smashes to the ground, still in Moriarty's hand. He fires it and narrowly misses the bookshelf. Lestrade shouts something through the wall, but none of us hear it.

I look up to see John holding down Moriarty's hand, there is a trail of blood from where he was sitting, and blood is already forming a new puddle here. "Be quick, I can't hold on long." He says, his words slow and just a little slurred. Not good.

"Lestrade, it's safe." I say with urgency.

He emerges quickly and takes in the scene without comment before pressing handcuffs onto Moriarty's wrists. Moriarty doesn't try to resist, he knows it won't save him.

As soon as Moriarty has left the room, led away by Lestrade, John collapses to the floor, the last of his energy used up.

"John, can you hear me?" I say, dread filling me as images flash through my mind: John's eyes losing their glow as life slips away from him, John choking on his own blood, John being beaten and cut by Moriarty.

He looks up at me and blinks a few times, trying to focus his vision. "He's gone, we got rid of him." He says, his words slurring a little more than before.

"You got rid of him." I say, thinking back to what John did, realising how much that lunge would have hurt. The pool of blood around him is growing fast. I'm not sure how much longer he can hold on for. He must be in pain, but he doesn't show it or complain. I am helpless, all we can do is wait for the ambulance.

Lestrade enters the room once more. "Oh my... John... Is he..?" He mumbles rushing to my side to look at John.

"Well done, John. You saved Sherlock. Moriarty's gone." He says quickly. John's eyes meet Lestrade's for a moment.

"He's gone." John repeats, his eyes lulling before they fix on mine again.

"Yes." I whisper, he smiles just a little.

John's eyes fall closed as the paramedics run into the room.


Thank you to everyone who's read my story, I really appreciate it. Please tell me what you thought, even if it's only a fee words; I open to criticism too... I hope you enjoyed it :)