The Reichenbach Falls: The Truth

"He's not resisting!" John shouted as the officer twisted Sherlock's arm roughly.

"It's alright, John," Sherlock told him.

"He's not resisting. No, it's not alright. This is ridiculous."

"I agree," Leena glared at the men.

"Get him downstairs now," Lestrade ordered as Sherlock was marched away.

"You know you don't have to do..." John turned to Lestrade.

"Don't try to interfere, or I shall arrest you too."

"Greg!" Leena called as Donovan entered, standing by the door, smug.

"What?" he turned to her as she walked over to him.

"You'd have to arrest me for assaulting an officer yeah?"

"Don't Jac..."

She just turned and punched Donovan hard across the face, sending her falling to the ground. She shook her hand out, "Damn it!" she snapped, it hurt. But then she smiled at John, exhilarated, "God, I've wanted to do that for ages!"

Lestrade sighed and reached out to cuff her too, her hands behind her back, leading her away.

John stared at the woman picking herself up and glared, "You done?"

"I said it," she muttered, rubbing her jaw, "First time we met. 'Solving crimes won't be enough. One day he'll cross the line.' Now, ask yourself, what sort of man would kidnap those kids just so he can impress us all by finding them?"

"Donovan," another man greeted, stepping into the room.

"Sir," Donovan nodded.

"What happened to your face?"

Her hand flew to her cheek where a nasty bruise was already forming, "Nothing sir."

"Got our man?"

"Er, yes, sir."

"Looked a bit of a weirdo, if you ask me," the man remarked as John turned to glare at him, "Often are, these vigilante types," and then he noticed John, "What are you looking at?"

Donovan's eyes widened, seeing the same look in John's face as Leena's right before she got punched...


Outside, Sherlock looked over, his eyes wide to see Leena being led away, "What are you doing?" he hissed as she was brought over to him.

She smiled, "Hatman can't go anywhere without Catwoman eh?" she glanced back at the house as John was led out as well, "Nor Robin. We make quite the team."

Sherlock glanced back to see the Chief Superintendant walking out behind John, holding a handkerchief to his bleeding nose as Donovan followed, a bruise on her cheek. It was quite easy to deduce who had punched who.

"Joining us?" Sherlock grinned as John was slammed against the car next to them.

"Yeah," he remarked, "Apparently it's against the law to chin the Chief Superintendant."

Sherlock glanced back as his right hand was cuffed to John's left wrist, chaining them together.

"Hmm," Sherlock muttered, "Bit awkward, this."

"Figures," Leena sighed playfully, "They wouldn't cuff ME to MY fiancé."

"No one to bail us," John said, serious, getting to the business.

"I was thinking more about our imminent and daring escape," Sherlock remarked.


Sherlock reached in the open window of the car, grabbing the 'talk' button on the radio, sending massive feedback through the earpieces of the officers around them. Leena jumped over her arms, turning and grabbing a gun from a nearby officer and aimed it at the others as they turned, seeing her now holding a gun at them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, will you all please get on your knees?" Sherlock called. When no one reacted Leena shot into the air, "NOW would be good!"

She aimed at the men again, glancing at Lestrade and winking. His eyes widened, "Do as they say!" he gestured them down as they started to kneel, hoping they wouldn't realize they ALL had guns against Leena's ONE.

"Just…just so you're aware, the gun is her idea," John called, "I'm just know..." he trailed off as Sherlock jerked him back, making their way to the corner, "So what now?"

"Doing what Moriarty wants," Sherlock muttered, "I'm becoming a fugitive. Run," he yanked John onwards, around the corner with Leena who had paused a moment to snap a picture of the wall, spray painted with an IOU on it, running down the road, knowing the police would be after them moments later, "Take my hand."

John rolled his eyes and grabbed it, "Now people will definitely talk," they ducked to the side, around a corner, Leena dropping the gun, "The gun!"

"Leave it!" Leena called, pushing him on, pulling the boys into a side alley as police cars drove past. They came to a dead end, high railings blocking the way. Sherlock leapt at the dustbins, vaulting over the top, Leena jut about to follow…when John got stuck, his arm stuck up.

"Sherlock, wait!" John called, glaring at him as Sherlock was jerked back, "We're going to need to coordinate."

"John go right," Leena told him.

He tried to look over his shoulder at her, "What?"

"Go right," she moved him, helping to get him up high enough to get the link off the spikes at the top of the fence before helping him over it. She jumped down to the other side and they were off again. Sherlock turned right at a T fork but jumped back as a police car raced past.

"Everybody wants to believe it, that's what makes it so clever," Sherlock remarked, all of them taking a moment to catch their breath, "A lie that's preferable to the truth," his eyes narrowed at nothing, bitter, "All my brilliant deductions were just a sham. No one feels inadequate, Sherlock Holmes is just an ordinary man."

"What about Mycroft?" John asked, "He could help us."

Sherlock pushed off the wall and looked back the way they came, "A big family reconciliation? Now's not really the moment," he spun around to look the other way when John spotted something.

"Sher...Sherlock," he elbowed him as a man peeked around the corner of the alley, "We're being followed. I knew we couldn't outrun the police."

"That's not the police," Leena told him, she recognized all of them, she worked with them, and that wasn't one.

Sherlock nodded, "It's one of our new neighbors from Baker Street. Let's see if he can give us some answers," and with that, he ran, right out of the alley, around the next corner, hiding, waiting.

"Where are we going?" John asked.

Sherlock looked out to see a bus approaching, "We're going to jump in front of that bus."

"What?!" John and Leena exclaimed.

Sherlock just ran out, dragging John with him, looking back, signaling for Leena to stay there, watch. They stood before the bus, waiting, before the assassin ran out and shoved them to the side. They fell to the ground, Sherlock grabbing the man's gun and aiming it at him as Leena ran up, "Tell me what you want from me!" the man just stared so he moved the gun closer, "Tell me."

"He left it at your flat," the man said.




"The computer key code," he said as they stood.

"Of course. He's selling it, the program he used to break into the Tower. He planted it when he came around," suddenly three shots rang out and the man fell down dead.

A siren went off and they ran, hiding in an open doorway as a car drove past.

"It's a game-changer. It's a key, it can break into any system and it's sitting in our flat right now. That's why he left that message telling everyone where to come. 'Get Sherlock.' We need to get back into the flat and search."

"CID'll be camped out," Leena shook her head.

"Why plant it on you?" John frowned.

"It's another subtle way of smearing his name," Leena explained.

"Yes," Sherlock nodded, "Now I'm best pals with all those criminals."

"Yeah, well, have you seen this?" John asked, spotting a copy of the Sun, announcing the upcoming article by Kitty Riley, "A kiss and tell. Some bloke called Rich Brook," Leena frowned, seeing the expression on Sherlock's face but John didn't notice, "Who is he?"


Sherlock, John, and Leena looked over as the door to Kitty Riley's flat opened, the three of them having broken in to confront the woman about her article, to find out who this source was. Kitty stepped in, turning on the lights to see the boys sitting there on the sofa, Leena on the arm of it.

"Too late to go on the record?" Sherlock asked. The woman just stared at him, slowly entering her flat more and moving to the armchair across from the sofa as Leena continued to try and pick her handcuffs with a hairpin, succeeding in freeing herself before taking Sherlock's hand and doing the same, "Congratulations," he eyed Kitty, "The truth about Sherlock Holmes," he took Leena's hand as she pulled away, kissing it in thanks before he got up and started to pace as she moved to free John's hand, "The scoop that everybody wanted and you got it. Bravo."

"I gave you your opportunity," Kitty cleared her throat, "I wanted to be on your side, remember? You turned me down, so..."

"And then, behold, someone turns up and spills all the beans. How utterly convenient. Who is Brook?" Kitty shook her head, "Oh, come on, Kitty. No one trusts the voice at the end of a telephone. There are all those furtive little meetings in cafés, those sessions in the hotel room where he gabbled into your Dictaphone. How do you know that you can trust him? A man turns up with the Holy Grail in his pockets. What were his credentials?"

There was a noise in the hallway, the front door opening as Kitty turned and stood, the door opening only for Moriarty, unshaven, with messy hair, in casual clothes, to walk in with a shopping bag, "Darling, they didn't have any ground coffee so I just got normal..." he stopped dead, spotting Sherlock, and backed away in terror, dropping the bag, "You said that they wouldn't find me here. You said that I'd be safe here."

"You are safe, Richard," Kitty moved to his side, "I'm a witness. He wouldn't harm you in front of witnesses."

"That's if I let you live long enough to be one," Leena muttered, glaring at the woman, "You really are an idiot aren't you?"

"So that's your source?" John pointed at Moriarty, "Moriarty is Richard Brook?!"

"Of course he's Richard Brook," Kitty rolled her eyes, "There is no Moriarty. There never has been."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look him up. Rich Brook, an actor Sherlock Holmes hired to be Moriarty."

Sherlock just stared at him as Moriarty turned to John, his voice shaking, "Dr. Watson, I know you're a good man," he backed up as John glared, "Don't...don't h...don't hurt me."

"No, you are Moriarty!" John shouted, pointing at him, before turning to Kitty, "He's Moriarty!" and back to Moriarty, "We've met, remember? You were gonna blow me up!"

"I'm sorry," Moriarty buried his face in his hands, crying, "I'm sorry," he pointed at Sherlock, "He paid me. I needed the work. I'm an actor. I was out of work. I'm sorry, ok?"

John turned to Sherlock, "Sherlock, you'd better...explain...because I am not getting this."

"Oh I'll...I'll be doing the explaining," Kitty smirked, "In print," she handed John a folder, "It's all here, conclusive proof," John looked at the printed pages, an early edition of her article, "You invented James Moriarty, your nemesis," she turned to Sherlock.

John let out a breath as though he'd been punched, "Invented him?"

"Mhmm. Invented all the crimes, actually, and to cap it all, you made up a master villain."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!"

Leena stepped closer to Sherlock, taking his hand, squeezing it. He looked away from Moriarty and over at her as she stared at him. She KNEW the truth.

Kitty turned to Moriarty, "Ask him. He's right here! Just ask him. Tell him, Richard."

John glared, "Look, for God's sake, this man was on trial!"

"Yes..." Kitty pointed to Sherlock, "...and you paid him, paid him to take the rap. Promised you'd rig the jury," Sherlock just stared at her, "Not exactly a West End role, but I'll bet the money was good," she put her arm around Moriarty, "But not so good he didn't want to sell his story."

Moriarty looked at John, "I am sorry. I am. I am sorry."

"So…so this is the story that you're gonna publish," John scoffed, throwing down the file, "The big conclusion of it all, Moriarty's an actor?!"

"He knows I am. I have proof. I have proof. Show him, Kitty! Show him something!"

"Yeah, show me something."

Kitty walked to her bag, John watching her as Moriarty turned to Sherlock and Leena, smirking before he put his act back on as Kitty handed John the folder, "I'm on TV. I'm on kids' TV. I'm The Storyteller."

John looked at the contact details for the acting agency, an article of Moriarty as an actor.

"I'm...I'm 'The Storyteller.' It's on DVD," he turned to Sherlock, pleading, "Just tell him. It's all coming out now. It's all over. Just tell them. Just tell them. Tell him! It's all over now..." he backed away as Sherlock advanced, "NO! Don't you touch me! Don't you lay a finger on me!"

"Stop it," Sherlock snapped, "Stop it NOW!"

"Don't hurt me!" Moriarty ran up the stairs, the trio after him.

"Don't let him get away!" John shouted.

"Leave him alone!" Kitty yelled after them.

They ran up the stairs as Moriarty dashed into a room, slamming the door shut. Sherlock shoved against it, forcing it open, only to see the man had escaped out the window.

"No," Leena called, pulling John back as he made to follow, "He'll have backup."

Sherlock turned and strode out of the room, back down the stairs, Kitty got in their way once more, slowing them, "D'you know what, Sherlock Holmes? I look at you now and I can read you," she smirked, "And"

"And you disgust me," Leena shoved her back, into the wall, knocking the wind out of her, "Come on," she called to the boys as they ran out the door.

As soon as they were on the street, Sherlock began to pace, "Can he do that?" John asked, "Completely change his identity, make you the criminal?"

"It's part of the profile," Leena nodded, "He's been playing and planning this game for ages."

"He's got my whole life story," Sherlock muttered, making Leena stiffen, making her realize exactly how and from who the information could have come from, "That's what you do when you sell a big lie, you wrap it up in the truth to make it more palatable."

"Your word against his," Leena sighed.

"He's been sowing doubt into people's minds for the last 24 hours. There's only one thing he needs to do to complete his game, and that's to..." he stopped dead, staring at John and Leena.

"No," Leena shook her head, realizing what the last thing was.

To make her and John not believe him.

If his biggest supporters lost their faith in him then the rest of the world would believe Moriarty.

"That's never gonna happen Sherwood. Not ever."

"What?" John looked between them, "Sherlock?"

"Something I need to do," Sherlock muttered, taking a step back.

"Sherwood, it WON'T happen," Leena stressed, "Not to me, not to John."

"What?" John frowned.

"I have to go," Sherlock shook his head, turning.

"At least let us help!" Leena tried.

He paused, no, she could get hurt.

"No," he stated, dashing off down the road.

Leena sighed, before grabbing John's hand, "Come on," she pulled him off, "We need to have a little chat with Mycroft."


"She has really done her homework," John stated, the files Mycroft had shown him earlier in his hands when Mycroft entered his office to see him and Leena sitting there, "Miss Riley."

Leena looked at Mycroft knowingly, "Things that only someone close to Sherlock could know."

"Ah," he shut this door and entered.

"Have you seen your brother's address book lately?" John asked, "Three names, yours and mine and Jackie's, and Moriarty didn't get this stuff from us."


"Don't you dare lie Mycroft," Leena snapped.

"So how does it work, then, your relationship?" John wondered, "D'you go out for a coffee now and then, eh, you and Jim?"

"Sherlock, Mycroft!" Leena shouted, "Your own brother, and you blabbed about his entire life to this maniac. Your mother would be fuming to see what you have done!"

"I never inten..." Mycroft struggled, "I never dreamt..."

"So…th…this..." John held up the papers, "…is what you were trying to tell me, isn't it? 'Watch his back, 'cos I've made a mistake,'" he slammed the papers down, "How did you meet him?"

Leena scoffed, "The government knows about people like him."

"We watch them," Mycroft added, "But James Moriarty...the most dangerous criminal mind the world has ever seen, and in his pocket the ultimate weapon: a key code. A few lines of computer code that could unlock any door."

"And you abducted him to try and find the key code?" John guessed.

"Interrogated him for weeks."


"He wouldn't crack, would he?" Leena guessed, "Not until you talked about Sherlock. Quid Pro Quo."

"So one big lie," John glared at the man, "Sherlock's a fraud, but people will swallow it because the rest of it's true," he leaned forward in the chair, "Moriarty wanted Sherlock destroyed, right? And you have given him the perfect ammunition," he shook his head at Mycroft, getting up and holding out a hand to Leena, "Come on," heading of the door.

"John..." Mycroft called, "Leena," he shook his head as they turned to look at him, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry won't cut it," Leena glared, stepping right up to him, "And I am warning you Mycroft, brother-in-law or not, if ANYTHING happens to Sherlock, I will killyou myself. No matter where you go or how you hide, no matter the resources you use, I will find you."

And with that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, a rather proud John following her, "I'll help you hide the body," he told her, before laughing.

"What is it?" she glanced at him.

"Nothing, it's just...always thought I'd say that to Sherlock first."

She smiled.


Sherlock was sitting alone on a bench in St. Bart's lab, bouncing a small rubber ball off the floor and cupboard, when John and Leena arrived.

"Got your message," John called as Leena moved to Sherlock's side, catching the ball and sitting beside him, linking her arm through his as she leaned on him.

"The computer code is key to this," Sherlock muttered, "If we find it, we can use it, beat Moriarty at his own game."

"What d'you mean, 'use it?'"

"He used it to create a false identity, so we can use it to break into the records and destroy Richard Brook."

"And bring back Jim Moriarty again," Leena nodded.

Sherlock stood up, helping Leena up as well. She frowned, seeing him sway. She knew that look, that reaction…he was drugged. But…this wasn't typical. He seemed almost slow, like he was moving through a bog, relaxed almost but not euphoric…

"Somewhere in 221B," he steadied himself, "Somewhere, on the day of the verdict, he left it hidden."

"Uh huh," John nodded, thinking, "What did he touch?"

"An apple," Leena answered, "Nothing else that I could see."

Sherlock's began drumming his fingers on a nearby table.

"Did he write anything down?"

"No," Leena sighed.

Sherlock looked down at his hands, at the tapping, his mind drifting back to Moriarty, drumming his fingers on his leg, and began to drum the same rhythm, the notes becoming a binary code in his mind. He glanced back at Leena and John to see them both talking quietly, trying to come up with where the code could be and pulled out his phone, sending a text to Moriarty.

Come and play.
Bart's Hospital rooftop.
P.S. Got something of yours you might want back.

He sent the message and turned to the others, a sad look in his eyes, knowing what was coming, not just for him, but for them.

He closed his eyes, knowing how much it would hurt them if he couldn't stop Moriarty. The man could burn the whole world for all he cared, but so long as Leena, John, Mrs. Hudson and even Lestrade were safe, his world would be protected.

Suddenly John's phone rang.

"Yeah, speaking," John answered, before jolting, "Er, what? What happened? Is she ok?"

"John?" Leena frowned, Sherlock watched intently, "What's wrong?"

John held up a finger, listening, "Oh my God. Right, yes, I'm coming. We're coming," he clicked the phone off.

"What happened?" Leena asked.

"Paramedics. Mrs. Hudson, she's been shot."

"What?" Sherlock looked over, "How?"

"Well, probably one of the killers you managed to attract...Jesus. Jesus. She's dying, Sherlock. Let's go," he ran to the door, Leena with him.

"You go," Sherlock called, sounding disinterested, "I'm busy."

Leena froze, turning to look at him, frowning in thought at that. She knew how much Mrs. Hudson meant to him, if she was hurt, Sherlock would be the first one out for blood, checking to see if she was alright. His…apathy…well, if she WAS hurt, he'd be up in arms.

Sherlock gave her a look, seeing her figuring it out, seeing the truth in why he wasn't following them, telling her to remain quiet.

John, though, looked appalled, "Busy?"

He nodded, "Thinking. I need to think."

"You need to...doesn't she mean anything to you? You once half-killed a man because he laid a finger on her."

He shrugged, "She's my landlady."

"She's dying!" he shouted, furious, "You machine," he shook his head, "Jackie tell him!" she could only shake her head, "Sod this. Sod this," he headed for the door, "You stay here if you want, on your own."

"Alone is what I have. Alone protects me."

John glared at him, "No. Friends protect people," before storming out.

Leena hesitated, looking back at him, torn. She knew she had to go with John to maintain the ruse Sherlock was trying to pull, probably to protect them, but she didn't want to leave him to face whatever he planned alone.

"Go," Sherlock said softly, staring at her with an intense look.


"Go," he repeated, before smiling at her, "Mrs. Holmes."

She let out a breath, frowning, "I'd better still be when all this is over Locksley," she warned him.

He nodded and she turned to go, trusting him, as she so often did.

Only this time, for the first time, he knew she shouldn't have.

He waited only a moment before his phone pinged with a new message.

I'm waiting...

He got to his feet, heading for the door, buttoning his jacket as he picked up his coat and left the room. He quickly made his way to the roof, the sun shining, to see Moriarty standing there in his suit, hair slicked back, Moriarty again and not Brooks. He was sitting on the raised ledge of the roof, his phone playing 'Stayin' Alive' as he bobbed his head with it.

"Ah," the man remarked, not even looking back, "Here we are at last, you and me, Sherlock, and our problem, the final problem," he held the phone up higher, "Stayin' alive! It's so boring, isn't it?" he glared at his phone, shutting it off, "It's just…" he waved his hand, "Staying," before dropping his head, "All my life I've been searching for distractions. You were the best distraction and now I don't even have you. Because I've beaten you," he looked up as Sherlock paced, watching him, "And you know what? In the end it was easy," Sherlock stopped, "It was easy," he murmured quietly, disappointed, "Now I've got to go back to playing with the ordinary people. And it turns out you're ordinary, just like all of them," he shook his head, "Ah well," he got up and walked closer to him, pacing slowly around Sherlock, "Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get you?"

"Richard Brook," Sherlock stated.

"Nobody seems to get the joke, but you do."

"Of course."


He smirked, "Leena too," he watched as Moriarty's face fell, "Rich Brook in German is Reichen Bach, the case that made my name."

"Just tryin' to have some fun," Moriarty said in a false American accent, still pacing, glancing down at Sherlock's hand when he spotted him tapping the rhythm, "Good. You got that too."

"Beats like digits. Every beat is a one, every rest is a zero. Binary code. That's why all those assassins tried to save my life. It was hidden on me, hidden inside my head, a few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system."

"I told all my clients, last one to Sherlock is a sissy."

"Yes, but now that it's up here, I can use it to alter all the records. I can kill Rich Brook and bring back Jim Moriarty."

Moriarty stared at him a moment before turning away, disappointed, "No, no, no, no, no, this is too easy," he buried his head in his hands, "This is too easy," before lowering them, "There is no key, DOOFUS! Those digits are meaningless. They're utterly meaningless," he stared at Sherlock's confused expression, "You don't really think a couple of lines of computer code are gonna crash the world around our ears? I'm disappointed," he turned away and walked across the roof, "I'm disappointed in you, ordinary Sherlock."

"But the rhythm..."

"'Partita number one.' Thank you, Johann Sebastian Bach."

"But then how did..."

"Then how did I break into the Bank, the Tower, the Prison?" he turned around, throwing his arms out, "Daylight robbery. All it takes is some willing participants," he'd bribed the men and women at all three places to set off the alarms, "I knew you'd fall for it. That's your weakness, you always want everything to be clever. Now, shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you chose a tall building, nice way to do it."

Sherlock stared at him, bewildered, "Do it? Do…do what?" he blinked, realizing, "Yes, of course. My suicide."

"'Genius detective proved to be a fraud.' I read it in the paper, so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairytales," he watched as Sherlock walked to the edge of the roof and leaned forward, looking down. He moved to the man's side, "And pretty Grimm ones too."

"I can still prove that you created an entirely false identity."

"Oh, just kill yourself. It's a lot less effort," he rolled his eyes as Sherlock turned away, pacing, "Go on. For me. Pleeeeeease?"

Sherlock reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his coat, spinning him around so that Moriarty's back was to the ledge, shoving him back a step nearer, "You're insane."

Moriarty blinked, "You're just getting that now?" but Sherlock shoved him closer, not that he was frightened, "Ok, let me give you a little extra incentive," he glared as Sherlock frowned, "Your friends will die if you don't."

Sherlock's eyes widened, his mind immediately going to friend, "John."

"Not just John," he whispered, "Everyone."

"Mrs. Hudson."



"I said I would burn you," he smirked.

Sherlock's jaw tensed, "Leena."

"Oh," Moriarty pouted, "No, I wouldn't kill dear little Leena. Not her, no. Death would be far too easy for her," he smirked, "If you don't, I'll be sure to torture her, the worst hell imaginable. I've proven I can hide where you can't find me Sherlock. You'd never find her again, unless I grew tired of her and dropped her body off as a present."

Sherlock let go of him, shoving him away from the edge.

"Three bullets, three gunmen, but four victims. There's no stopping them now. Unless my people see you jump," he smiled triumphantly, "You can have me arrested, you can torture me, you can do anything you like with me, but nothing's gonna prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only three friends in the world, the love of your life, will die...unless..."

"...unless I kill myself, complete your story."

He nodded, "You've gotta admit that's sexier."

"And I die in disgrace."

"Of course."

"And John and the others, they'll think it was all true."

"That's the point of this."

He shook his head, "But Leena won't. Not ever."

Moriarty sighed, "I know. She knows you too well, has the most faith in you…" he smirked, "Though there was only one time she ever doubted you, wasn't there?" he laughed, "Tossing Irene at you was a stroke of genius, wasn't it?"

Sherlock's gaze narrowed, realizing it wasn't Leena's faith Moriarty would hope to break with his suicide, but her heart.

Moriarty looked over the ledge, spotting someone stopping by the benches of the bus stop below, "Oh, you've got an audience now. Off you pop," he rolled his neck, "Go on," he grinned as Sherlock stepped closer to the ledge, right up onto it, "I told you how this ends. Your death is the only thing that's gonna call off the killers. I'm certainly not gonna do it."

Sherlock blinked, anxious, "Would you give moment, please, one moment of privacy?" he glanced at Moriarty, "Please?"

Moriarty sighed, disappointed, "Of course," he moved away, heading back across the roof…

When Sherlock started to laugh.

He paused and turned around, "What?" but Sherlock kept on laughing, "What is it?" he demanded as Sherlock just turned on the ledge, smiling, as he glared back, "What did I miss?"

Sherlock hopped off, back onto the roof and walked over to him, "'You're not going to do it.' So the killers can be called off, then, there's a recall code or a word or a number," he smirked, circling Moriarty as the man had done to him before, "I don't have to die...if I've got you."

"Oh," Moriarty laughed, relieved, delighted, "You think you can make me stop the order? You think you can make me do that?"

"Yes. So do you."

"Sherlock, your big brother and all the King's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to."

Sherlock stopped, right in front of him, "Yes, but I'm not my brother, remember? I am you, prepared to do anything, prepared to burn, prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. And there is nothing I am not prepared to do for Leena, and that makes me far worse. You want me to shake hands with you in hell? I shall not disappoint you."

Moriarty shook his head, "Nah. You talk big. Nah. You're ordinary. You're ordinary, you're on the side of the angels."

"Oh, I may be on the side of the angels," Sherlock agreed, his voice ominous, "But don't think, for one second, that I am one of them just because I am marrying one."

Moriarty stared at him, seeming to sense that, "No, you're not," he blinked before smiling, "I see. You're not ordinary. No. You're me," he laughed delightedly, "You're me! Thank you!" he lifted his hand to embrace Sherlock but lowered it, offering it to shake, "Sherlock Holmes," he smiled, when Sherlock slowly raised his hand to shake it, "Thank you," he nodded frantically, shaking his hand vigorously, "Bless you," before he blinked back his tears, lowering his gaze, working something else out, "As long as I'm alive, you can save your friends, you've got a way out. Well, good luck with that," he smiled manically, before opening his mouth wide and grabbing a pistol out of his waistband, firing into his mouth.

Sherlock leapt back, alarmed, as Moriarty fell to the ground, raising a frantic hand to his head in horror. Moriarty was dead and, with him, any hope he had of getting out of this. He panted, breathing erratically, his mind racing furiously…till Leena came to mind.

He let out a breath, closing his eyes as he imagined her, smiling at him, that proud look in her eyes, those gray eyes that shown with love.

His eyes opened and he looked at the ledge, slowly walking back over to it and getting up on it. He looked down, spotting a black cab pulling up, Leena and John getting out, having realized Mrs. Hudson was safe, that the call was a ploy to get them to leave him by himself. He pulled out his phone, hitting speed dial as he watched Leena frown and pull hers out, following John towards the hospital.

"Sherwood!" Leena gasped, "Where are you?"

"Leena…" he began, his breath catching.

"Sherlock, you ok?" John asked, he could see Leena holding out her phone between them, him on speaker.

"Turn around and walk back the way you came now."

"No, we're coming in."

"Just do as I ask," he cried, frantic, "Leena, please."

They turned back, "Where are you Sherwood?" she asked.

He could hear the fear in her voice, closing his eyes and forcing himself to reply, "Look up. I'm on the rooftop."

He opened his eyes to see them look up, horrified, "Oh God," John breathed.

"Sherlock!" Leena cried.

"I...I..." he stuttered, knowing what her using his name meant, she wasn't just scared, she was terrified, "I can't come down, so we'll...we'll just have to do it like this."

"What's going on?" John asked.

"An apology. It's all true."


"Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty."

"Sherlock!" Leena shouted, he could see her turn to John, "Don't you dare believe that John," before looking back up at him, "Why are you lying?"

"Why are you saying this?" John asked.

"I'm a fake," Sherlock insisted, his voice breaking, ignoring Leena for the moment.


"The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade, I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson, and fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty for my own purposes."

"Ok, shut up, Sherlock, shut up. The first time we met...the first time we met, you knew all about my sister, right?"

"Nobody could be that clever."

"You could," Leena cut in, "You are!"

Sherlock laughed, "I researched him," he swallowed hard, "I researched you John. Before we met I discovered everything that I could to impress you. It's a trick. Just a magic trick."

"No," he could see John shaking his head, "Alright, stop it now," before he turned to Leena, "I'm going to get him, you watch him."

"John!" he shouted, but John and already made his way to the road, making his way carefully through the cars, "Leena…" he began.

"Why are you lying Sherlock?" she asked, "It won't work. Not on me. On anyone else, but not on me. I KNOW you."

"I know," he let out a tearful laugh, smiling down at her though she couldn't see, he had to say it, say what he could to make her agree with the story, turn her back on him...

"So why are you…"

"Jacqueline," he cut in, making her pause, "Listen to me, listen to everything I say. This wouldn't work, not ever. Love...would never have worked between us. You must realize that. You must. I always lied to you, to John, and Mrs. Hudson. Lies from Sherlock bloody idiot Holmes. Please, believe me, the truth is, I can't love you. For that I am so very, very sorry. Truly, I'm sorry Leena."

"Don't do this Sherlock," she said, he could hear the tears in her voice.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, before he lowered his arm, dropping the phone before he spread his arms and fell forward off the building.

"SHERLOCK!" Leena screamed, running across the road, ignoring the cars that screeched to a halt to avoid hitting her.

John, who had just reached the doors of the hospital, spun around at her shout, his eyes wide as he saw Sherlock hit the ground, and he ran.

John's world seemed to fade as he pushed his way towards Sherlock, through the crowd of people who had gathered around him, some medics from the hospital among them. He made it there, just as Leena did, the girl falling to her knees, shock already setting in, he could tell. He ran to her side, skidding beside her, trying to pull her back. He could see blood pooling under Sherlock's head, she didn't need to see this…the trauma alone…

She pulled out her his grip, "No…" she cried, reaching out to touch Sherlock's cheek, "Please," she begged, "Please, don't do this to me Locksley…"

He reached out, touching the man's wrist, trying to find a pulse, but another nurse arrived, pulling him away to check herself. He shook his head, swallowing hard as Leena sobbed. He quickly pulled her into his arms, helping her up, he had to get her away…

But she struggled when she realized what was happening, that she was being pulled away from Sherlock, and struggled, "No!" she shouted, twisting and turning, wanting to get back to him, needing to get back to him, "No! Let me go!"

"Jackie!" John struggled to calm her, "Jackie stop!" but she struggled more, "Leena!" he called.

And she stopped, just crying as he held her, tears in his eyes as well as he rocked her back and forth, shaking as much as she was till her legs gave out and they both fell to their knees.


Halfway across the world, in America, a small team of men and women sat in an office at a round table, files before them as they reviewed their last case.

Suddenly a blonde woman in black spectacles ran in, "Oh my God!" she gasped, grabbing a remote from the table.

"What is it Garcia?" a handsome black man, one Derek Morgan, asked.

Penelope Garcia just shook her head, "Look," and turned to international news.

They stared, watching as footage played about a Consulting Detective, named Sherlock Holmes, who had taken his own life by jumping off the roof of a hospital in London. They stared as the footage cut to the actual fall, the landing, the gathering of alarmed men and women…and a young blonde woman collapsing in hysterics as another man held her, a very familiar woman…

"AJ!" Dr. Spencer Reid gasped, his heart racing as they watched her break down for the world to see.

"Oh my God," Emily Prentiss's eyes widened.

"That was Sherlock!" Jennifer 'JJ' Jareau breathed, shaking.

"What happened?" David Rossi turned to Garcia.

"Not now," Aaron Hotchner cut in, "Wheels up in five, move!"

They ran from the room.


John sat in the armchair of 221B Baker Street, his gaze locked on the cracked open door of Sherlock's room, where Leena was lying. The press had had a field day with all this, especially one Kitty Riley, who had all the people of London believing Sherlock had taken his own life out of shame that he was a fake. He'd removed everything in Sherlock's room that could remotely be harmful to her in her current state of mind. She'd broken down as Sherlock's body had been taken away. He'd feared for her well-being, feared what she might do…she hadn't slept the last two days. She'd gone right to Sherlock's laptop, sat there for hours on end, she didn't sleep, she didn't eat, she just worked away, printing things to put in a file she wouldn't let him see, taking only one break to stop by St. Bart's to visit Claudette, before getting back to work...till he'd finally gotten Mrs. Hudson to tearfully beg the woman to rest.

Leena, on the other hand, laid in Sherlock's bed, on her side, his robe around her, one of his shirts on the pillow beside her, just staring blankly at the wall. Wide awake, lost in thought, tears in her eyes.

She closed her eyes a moment, a tear falling from them, before she took a breath and opened them. She got up, shrugging off the robe and stepping out of the room. She paused, looking at John as he straightened up, "We're going out."

That was all she said as she grabbed Sherlock's laptop and files, and a few small brown boxes, before heading out the door, John running after her.


Leena strode through Scotland Yard on a warpath.

She had given John the laptop, box, and files as they got out of the cab…more like shoved them into his arms…before she headed for the stairs.

He hadn't had a moment to wonder why because the answer became clear. She stepped into the room, seeing the officers puttering around, Donovan and Anderson talking to a few other men, smiles on their faces, actually seeming happy with what had happened, unlike Lestrade who, they could see through the window of his office, looked miserable and broken as a smug Kitty Riley sat before him, gloating, having been called in for questioning about her article.

Leena…walked right up to Donovan and Anderson, not saying a word as she grabbed their arms and forced them to walk, marching them, protesting, into Lestrade's office, glaring at Kitty as she told the woman to "Stay there!" shoving the two in, waiting till John had entered before slamming the door shut. She turned, the other officers watching as she glared at them, shutting the blinds, cutting them off from sight.

And stare they did when, an hour later, Donovan and Anderson stepped out of the office, pale, their eyes wide in shock, Donovan actually looking ill and even tearful as the two ambled over to their desks and began putting their belongings in boxes. The officers watched, confused, as Kitty Riley stepped out, seeming to have trouble breathing through her tears as she cried, shaking, her world looking as though it had fallen apart.

John stepped out after them, as solemn as Lestrade was, though Lestrade seemed to be glaring at the three in silent fury.

And then there was Leena…who just stood there numbly, walking out behind them, shaking.

"AJ!" someone with a distinct American accent shouted.

They looked over to see a group of three women and four men rush into the station.

"Spence," Leena choked out, starting to cry again as a young man in a sweater vest ran over to her, hugging her as the women ran to her side, overcome with grief and seeing them again.

"Detective Inspector Lestrade?" Hotchner walked over, reaching out to shake his hand, "Special Agent Aaron Hotchner."

Lestrade nodded, "I know who you are," he looked at John, "Her team from the BAU," he explained quickly.

Rossi stepped up, a hard look on his face as Morgan went to help the girls get Leena out of the room, the girl looking as though she were about to pass out, "What happened?" he demanded.

Lestrade sighed, motioning for his door, letting them in to speak to them.

John watched Leena be led off by people he now recognized as Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Emily Prentiss, and Jennifer Jareau. He sighed, looking at Donovan, glaring at her, as she looked down and took her box, leaving Scotland Yard with Anderson. He couldn't help but think about what had just happened only an hour ago…


One Hour Earlier…

Leena turned back around after shutting the blinds, glaring at Donovan, Anderson, and Kitty, "This is YOUR fault!" she snapped at them, "You pushed and pushed…"

"We pushed for the truth," Kitty rolled her eyes.

"You pushed for what you wanted to see!" she shouted, cutting the woman off, making her jump as she slammed her hand on the table before them, "Not the truth!" she breathed heavily, "You want the truth, I'LL give it to you."

She turned to John, pulling one of the files from his arms, throwing it down before them, "I hacked into the phone records of Jim Moriarty," she told them as they stared, looking at conversations and text message response of him with a number of other men and women, all criminals, clearly having a real relationship with them, "Conversations, texts, pictures, orders for murders, suggestions for crimes, going back longer than Sherlock has been helping Scotland Yard," she flipped a page over, half shoving it at Kitty, "Records and transactions that were occuring at the exact same time your 'Richard Brook' was supposedly working as an actor, filming on set."

Kitty blinked, startled at that.

She turned her laptop, which she had opened as she was speaking, to show them, "Footage from our flat of Moriarty, threatening Sherlock," she played the footage of the camera she'd hidden in the bookshelf, showing them the conversation they'd had after he'd been found not guilty, the threats he'd made to the families to get his announcement. She tossed another file down, "Signed confessions of the jurors that their family members had been kidnapped, confessions by the kidnapped of the men involved, none of them Sherlock, all of them mentioning Moriarty," she switched to other footage, the pin she'd stuck on Sherlock after she'd seen the IOU on the building across the way. Moriarty talking about Sir Boast-A-Lot, how he had been planning for someone to doubt him, even Moriarty breaking character for that one brief moment when Kitty's back had been turned in her flat, jolting her.

"And this," she threw another paper down, "A detailed, SIGNED, record of the memory retrieval I did with Claudette after she actually had time to process what happened. She states the man who held her and her brother hostage was a tall man with a long coat, and BROWN hair. Not black. BROWN eyes, not blue! He even had a cockney accent for Christ's sake! It wasn't Sherlock!"

Donovan looked a bit ill at that, but shook her head as though it didn't prove a thing.

So Leena tossed down the pictures of the IOUs, on the apple, on the building, on the wall as they escaped from the police at their flat. Everywhere.

She even played…his last moments, the discussion he had with Moriarty on the roof, the man openly admitting his plan had been to destroy Sherlock, that Richard Brook wasfake, the meaning behind his name, which made Kitty gasp and look ill, especially when she saw the man she had let live with her urging Sherlock to take his own life for fun.

"And if that's not enough," Leena glared, grabbing the box from John's stunned hands, and opening it. It was a set of disks, she put one into her laptop and footage began to play that made their blood run cold.

'Sherwood!' a young girl with a heavy French accent shouted as the film showed a little blonde girl running through a crowd of stuffy adults standing around in an extravagant ball room.

"Mycroft went through a phase," she remarked, watching herself pushing her way through men and women, heading for the little boy with curly black hair, sitting stiffly at a table, reading a book, "He wanted to be a director. Filmed everything to make little movies…"

'Sherwood!' little Leena continued, 'Eets my birzday!'

The young boy, who could be no one but Sherlock Holmes as a child, rolled his eyes, 'I'm well aware.'

'Will you do ze zing for me?'


'Because eets my birzday!'

'So you've said.'

Little Leena reached out and shook his arm, staring at him with hopeful eyes, 'S'il vous plait?'

He sighed begrudgingly, 'Fine.'

'Oui?' her eyes widened, 'You will?'

'Oui,' he nodded, closing his book, 'Pick someone.'

She beamed and looked around, 'Zat one!' she pointed at two men speaking near a buffet table.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed, at the fat and skinny men, 'Twiggy or tubby?'

She laughed, seeming used to his less than polite remarks, 'Tubby of course! Even I can tell twiggy eez an accountant.'

Sherlock stiffened and looked at her, 'How?'

'Eez very tired, very stressed, very well-dressed,' she nodded, squinting at the man as Sherlock watched her intently, 'Ze only profezion stressed ziz time of year eez ze accountant!'

Young Sherlock nodded, 'You are getting better.'

'Merci beaucoup!'

Sherlock nodded, turning to the men…

And they watched in awe as the 8 year old boy detailed the man's life from just looking at him. As he always did, thus disproving he faked the way he deduced things.

Little Leena hung on his every word with rapt attention, till he finished and she clapped, 'You are amazing Sherwood!' she told him, smiling, 'Truly fantastique!'

Young Sherlock actually began to smile, a faint blush on his cheeks, 'You think so?'

She nodded.

He put his book to the side, turning to face her, now seeming eager, 'Pick another one.'

Her eyes widened, 'Really?'

'Oui,' he smirked, 'It is your birthday after all…'

They watched as she picked out person after person, Sherlock deducing them rapidly, it was clear to them that he was trying to impress her with the way he smiled every time she beamed at him, her eyes filled with pride and awe at how he was able to do it.

Leena cut the video off as silence filled the room, not even giving them a moment to speak before she put one more in, "All this over a footprint," she muttered, playing another video.

This time the two of them were a bit older, and from how things were being spoken, Leena was the one with the camera this time, following Sherlock around a pool.

'Mummy will be pleased,' Sherlock said, 'She hates when people bring mud in and don't clean it up.'

'I still zink it was Mycroft,' Leena said, her accent faded quite a bit though with a few undertones of it.

'No,' he shook his head, 'The print was just a size bigger than his. And remember,' he glanced back at her, 'The experiment? There was bleach mixed in the mud.'

The camera bobbed as though she were nodding.

"He'd taken a sample," Leena murmured in reminiscence, "Of the mud from the shoeprint in the kitchens so he could try to find out where the person might have been for a better idea of whose footprint it was. He put a drop of vinegar on it, it released chlorine gas, meaning the mud had traces of bleach in it," she looked at John, "Sound familiar?"

He nodded, looking at Donovan, who was looking down, "He took a wood chip that had been stepped on from the school to the labs, it found traces of brick dust, asphalt, chalk, vegetation, and chocolate. THAT'S how he determined it was a sweet factory."

'Why do you always do zis Locksley?' Little Leena asked as they knelt at the side of a pool, Sherlock taking a sample of the water and a swabbing of the tiles around it.

'Do what?' he looked up at her.

'Solve puzzles.'

'I want to be an investigative journalist one day,' he shrugged.

Kitty let out a breath, shutting her eyes, she was an investigative journalist. And now, seeing the child version of the man she'd been gunning for…all the evidence against what she'd written believing it was the truth…she felt sick, she could feel tears in her eyes.

'I zink you should be a detective!' Leena countered.

Sherlock grimaced, 'They're boring.'

Leena sighed behind the camera, 'Zey are. And ze police can handle crimes.'

Sherlock looked at her and they both laughed.

Lestrade couldn't help but smile at that, even then Sherlock had thought them idiots, and they had certainly proved it.

'Maybe you could be ze person zey go to when zey get stuck,' Leena suggested, 'Like daddy's advisors and consultants.'

Sherlock paused, considering it, 'A consultant detective,' he hummed, 'A consulting detective,' he nodded, 'I like the sound of that,' he looked up at her, actually smiling, 'Thank you Leena.'

She froze the image there, pushing the laptop down, "He later found out that the pool hand had brought mud in. The bleach there matching the bleach in the mud as opposed to the kitchen help and the cleaner who used a different kind of bleach."

She rubbed her head, taking a breath, before she looked at the three people she blamed most for his death, "And if that isn't enough evidence," she pulled one last file away from John, "I had a friend hack into the British Government when this all started happening," she tossed down the files she had just received, too late it seemed, the three hesitating before opening it, "All the records on Jim Moriarty, the real records," she pointed to the files, reaching out to flip through them herself when they made no move to touch them, "Birth records, school records, transcripts from university, address, NHS numbers, driver's license, credit card charges, everything," she leaned down, her hands resting on the table to look at them, "He's REAL and because of you…my husband is dead."

He wasn't her husband yet, but he was as good as in her mind.

"I've provided all this information to your superiors Ms. Riley," she added, making Kitty gasp and look alarmed, this information could ruin her! But Leena just straightened up and looked over at Lestrade, "If you don't fire them," she gestured at Donovan and Anderson, "I will kill them," she looked at the duo, "So which do you value more, your jobs or your lives?"

"You…you can't," Donovan choked out, feeling so ill she felt she might vomit. She had been the one to get the Chief Superintendent involved, give the ammunition against Sherlock by having him arrested, Anderson going along with her out of spite for Sherlock.

Leena just leaned closer to her, getting right in her face, "Well I don't have anything left to lose now, do I?" she looked between them, "You two saw to that yourselves."

"Sergeant Donovan," Lestrade called, standing, "Sergeant Anderson, I regret…" he paused, "No, I don't regret anything actually. You two, pack up your things and get the hell out of my station."

Donovan and Anderson nodded, getting up and heading for the door. They were getting off easy, they could easily be arrested for conspiracy and accessory to murder, for it was murder, Moriarty's against Sherlock.

Kitty stood as well, looking at Leena, "I can retract the article," she said, pleading, needing her job, not this black mark on her record, no one would ever hire her again for printing such a fictitious story that drove a man to death, "Please, I…"

Leena just shook her head, "As though anyone would believe it now," she said brokenly.

Kitty hung her head, she knew her superiors couldn't print such a major retraction so soon after it happened, without making themselves look like idiots for allowing her article to be printed in the first place and losing public faith, but her time as a reporter for them would be over. Her name tarnished on the grapevine.

She turned and headed for the door after Anderson and Donovan…stepping out to see the other officers staring at them…


John, Leena, and Mrs. Hudson stood before a black marble headstone in the graveyard, flowers Mrs. Hudson had brought resting on top of them as she stood beside Leena, John on the other side of the girl with his arm around her shoulder for support as they stared at Sherlock's grave.

"There's all the stuff," Mrs. Hudson murmured, "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…" she looked at them, "Would you..."

John shook his head, "I can't go back to the flat again, not at the moment."

"I'm not leaving," Leena shook her head, "I'll find a place for everything Mrs. Hudson."

Mrs. Hudson nodded, thankful the girl at least was staying in the flat. Though she rarely ever saw Leena anywhere but in Sherlock's room.

"I'm angry," John said quietly, trying not to cry as he stared at the stone.

"It's ok, John," Leena reached up to rest a hand on his arm, squeezing it, "There's nothing unusual in that."

She was angry too, angry at what had happened, at Donovan, at Anderson, at Kitty, at Moriarty…

"That's the way he made everyone feel," Mrs. Hudson added, "All the marks on my table and the noise, firing guns at half past one in the morning! Bloody specimens in my fridge. Imagine, keeping bodies where there's food!" she sniffled, her voice breaking, "And the fighting! Drove me up the wall with all his carryings-on!"

"Yeah, listen," John turned to her, "I…I'm not actually that angry, ok?"

Leena gave a small laugh at that.

"Ok," Mrs. Hudson nodded, turning to head off, "I'll leave you two alone to, er..." her voice broke again, " know," she sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue as she walked off to wait for them at the cab.

John looked down at the grave, stepping away from Leena and closer to the headstone, "Um...mmm," he took a breath, needing to say it and knowing Leena would understand everything and not bring it up again, " told me once that you weren't a hero. Um...there were times I didn't even think you were human, but let me tell you this…you were the best man, and the most human...human being that I've ever known and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, and so...there," he let out a breath, taking a shuddering one as he reached out to touch the top of the stone, "I was so alone, and I owe you so much. Ok," he swallowed hard, trying not to cry, "No, please, there's just one more thing, ok, one more thing…one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don'" his voice filled with tears, making Leena's eyes do the same, "...dead. Would you do...just for me, just stop it," he gestured down at the grave, "Stop this."

He sighed and lowered his head, covering his eyes for a moment, wiping at them, needing to be strong for Leena, before he turned and held out a hand for her to leave.

"Just a moment," she told him, "I just…" she swallowed hard and looked at the grave.

He nodded, understanding and headed over to Mrs. Hudson, giving her some privacy.

Leena stepped closer, kneeling down before the headstone and placing a hand on top of it to steady herself.

She knelt there for a moment, before smiling softly, "You stupid, stupid boy," was all she said before she reached into her pocket and pulled a small Dictaphone out, placing it down to lean against the headstone, before she stood and walked back to John.


Standing some distance away, under a tree, hidden from view, Sherlock Holmes watched the small gathering, Mrs. Hudson leaving, John speaking and leaving, and then Leena…leaving him something before she too got up and walked away.

He watched Leena go, closing his eyes a moment as he recalled what it had been like, to lie there, playing dead, when she had touched his cheek, begging him to be alright. It had taken everything in him not to move, but to savor her touch, all his willpower not to react as she cried.

He swallowed hard, his gaze on her as she reached the cab, hugging Mrs. Hudson and then John before they got in, the woman pausing to look back over her shoulder at the grave, her eyes scanning the cemetery as though looking for something before she got into the car and it drove off.

As soon as it was out of sight, he walked to his grave, staring down at it, before scooping the Dictaphone up and pressing play.

"I replay that memory over and over you know," Leena's voice said, "Over and over and over in my head. I never wanted to see your last moments, but…I'm glad I did. Because I remembered. Our code. The only one Mycroft never managed to break. I had almost forgotten it. ALMOST. Our full name to start it, five words that start in a consonant, one in a vowel, and then our coded word, till it ends with our nicknames," she gave a little laugh, "Jacqueline. I. Love. You. Always. Mrs. Holmes. I. Am. Sorry. Leena," she sighed, "And then I see you jump. I see you fall. And I see you crash. But…" she let out a breath, "It's like you said to John when we went to Baskerville, once you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth," she sighed, "I put it all together Locksley, I know what you did. But I talked to Molly anyway you know, she told me everything. But even if she hadn't, even if I didn't work it out myself...I'd still know the truth. Because you made a promise to me once, that you'd never leave me. I know you're out there and I've got all the evidence against Moriarty, proving he existed, proving who you are, proving your talents, so when you're ready…I will be too, ready show the world the truth about him, and about you. Ready to be Mrs. Holmes too."

He had to smile at that, she knew him so well.

"I made you a promise as well," she continued, "That I would always be there for you. And while you have seen to it that I will have to put a pause on that promise, I can leave you with this message," she let out a little laugh, "You and my bloody accent, ought to marry it one day," she sniffled, before her accent came out, "Je t'aime Sherlock. Je t'aime toujours," she took a breath, "I'll be waiting."

There was a click as the recording cut off.

He let out a breath, closing his eyes before dropping the smallest of kisses onto the Dictaphone and sliding it into his pocket. He turned to walk out of the graveyard, hoping neither of them would have to wait too long.

To be Holmes!

A/N: Surprise, Leena knows! After 20 odd years with Sherlock, she's already proved she knows how his mind works, can predict him effortlessly. It sort of makes sense that, while she didn't know it as it happened, she'd work it out later. Poor her though, having to keep it from John :( I wonder how it'll all play out in Series 3, hmm...

As for Welcome Holmes (a little play on Welcome Home) I'm really desperately hoping Series 3 will see Sherlock return and let John know he's not really dead, in which case, Welcome Home Sherlock Holmes lol :) I saw a blurb somewhere that the hint words for Series 3 are 'Rat. Wedding. Bow' as Series 2's were 'Woman. Hound. Fall.' can imagine where my mind went on Wedding eh? I guess we'll have to wait and see.

This story WILL be updated when Series 3 actually comes out, whenever that may be. Seeing how long it took me to write out an episode after seeing it, and since I couldn't find a transcript so I had to write it out entirely...I'd say...give me two weeks after the last episode airs before I start posting the story :) Unless there's a super fast transcript up within days after the show airs, then give me a week :)

Now that this series is over (for now!) I will not be posting anything tomorrow, save my New Years themed chapters of Recollections and The Adventures of Spaceman and Timegirl for DW. But after that, on the 1st of January, I will be back with an all new DW series, The Heart of Time Saga for anyone interested :)