Sherlock fic: It burns
May. 16th, 2012 01:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Author: PipMer
Wordcount: 221
Genre: Angst, friendship, 221b
Characters: Sherlock, John, Moriarty
Pairing: John/Sherlock
Rating: PG
Spoilers: The Reichenbach Fall
Disclaimer: Not mine, just taking them out to play.
Summary: Moriarty has won the battle. Sherlock must make sure that he doesn’t win the war.
A/N: My very first attempt at a 221b. Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine.
He doesn’t know how it has come to this. Him, standing on the edge of a roof with a dead body behind him. John, staring up at him from the pavement; confusion plain on his face, but also that look that makes something inside Sherlock’s chest twist painfully, that look that broadcasts pure faith and, if he’s honest, love. He doesn’t want to do this, god, does he ever not want to; he knows if he does, John will never trust him again; he knows if he doesn’t, John will die. There is no choice.
He feels tears running down his cheeks. He hasn’t cried… really cried… since he was twelve years old.
I will burn the heart out of you.
Moriarty has won the battle. Sherlock must make sure that he doesn’t win the war. Whatever it takes. Even if it means that he loses John’s respect and admiration. At least John won’t lose his life.
Sherlock says his last words, and ends the connection. Between the two phones, and between the two men.
I don’t have friends. I’ve just got one.
Just one. He doesn’t even know if he has that anymore.
He fixes his eyes on John, maintaining eye contact as he throws his phone to the side.
Sherlock!
He spreads his arms, and he falls.
It burns.