Sherlock Imagines

The Last Pip-Sherlock

It seemed like any ordinary day. You went to work, had the regular routine, and eventually would go home. But at the house.....well, that's what made the day inordinate.

You pulled your key out and reached for the lock but stopped midway. The door was unlocked. You were sure that you had locked it after you left. Cautiously opening the door, it creaked, most likely notifying whoever was there that you were present. Cause once you stepped inside, you felt something hard hit your head and then blackness.

~Sherlock's POV~

I sat in my flat with my hands under my chin. I was thinking, trying to figure out the solution to this case. Who had done the murder and why did he leave that message? There was a message left specifically for me and this murderer apparently hated me. Seems like it's that way with everyone. As I thought, my phone trilled an alert, but I ignored it.
John came up the steps and sat down across from me. He must've noticed I was thinking cause he didn't interrupt me. My phone trilled again and I looked over to it.

"Do you mind handing me my phone?" I asked John.

I heard John sigh and he stood up. He grabbed the phone and set it down in my hand. I opened it, expecting it to be a regular message, but it wasn't. The phone beeped one long pip. My eyes grew wide and I looked at the screen. A picture of a girl appeared. It was the one girl I didn't want it to be, y/n.

"What is that?" John asked.

"It's the five pips but there was only one pip. Why only one pip? It always starts out with five." I rambled.

I began to think as John looked at my phone.

"Oh my goodness. I-is it y/n? She's being threatened?" John asked incredulously.

"Yes. But that still doesn't explain the one pip. Unless...." I came to the realization. "Oh! Of course. When we had the case to find Moriarty he gave us up to the first four. He never gave us the last one so that means..."

"Moriarty's back?" John interrupted.

"Exactly!" I exclaimed. "Come John! The game is on!" I said, although with a little less enthusiasm as I usually did.

~Your POV~

You were in so much pain. You were lying on your side on the ground. You were just barely able to stay conscious. Sherlock still hadn't found you and you were starting to get worried. What if he never found you? What would happen to you? You shook the thoughts aside as you heard a door open. You expected it to be Moriarty but it wasn't.
You heard some soft footsteps coming towards you. By listening you could tell it was more than one person. Probably two. You would have looked to see who it was but you didn't have to. You shut your eyes as someone reached out and rolled you over to face them. You opened your eyes slowly and saw the outline of a man. By the turned up collar and fluffy, curly hair you knew who it was.

"Sherlock." You breathed.

"Yeah. It's me, y/n. Come on we have to get you out of here." He said and helped you up.

You clutched his hand to balance yourself and he wrapped his other arm around your waist. You stood up straight and looked around.

"Something doesn't feel ri-"

Before you could finish your sentence, someone grabbed you and flung you away from Sherlock and John. You landed on the ground hard. You pushed up and flipped over and sat up. You looked up and saw Jim Moriarty standing between you and Sherlock, with a gun. Your heart raced as you saw that the gun was pointed at you.

"Please, don't do this." Sherlock pleaded.

"It's too late, Sherlock! You were just a tad too late." Moriarty said.

"What do you mean?" John asked.

"Don't you remember the other times? I gave you a certain amount of time and if you were late someone died." Moriarty said.

"You never gave me a time." Sherlock said.

"Oh but I did Sherlock. I left it hidden." Moriarty said. "I'm a consulting criminal I have to be smart." Moriarty teased.

Sherlock thought very hard at what he had seen and done to figure out the location Jim was keeping you at. He flashbacked to when he was at your house. That's when he remember seeing a small number on one of the walls.

"20 hours." Sherlock said.

"Mm hmm. That's right. And you took 24 hours to find us." Moriarty said.

"Why are you doing this?" John asked.

"I like doing this. This little game of ours. It has been fun." Jim said and locked the gun.

You shut your eyes in fear waiting for him to just pull the trigger and send the bullet into you. But of course he had to make it dramatic.

"I thought you said you didn't like getting your hands dirty?"  You said.

Jim shrugged, "I can change my mind sometimes. And I don't really care seeing it will be my first and last kill."  He said.

And with that he pulled the trigger. A sharp pain erupted in your chest as the bullet hit you. Another gunshot was heard and Moriarty fell over dead.

"Y/n!"  Sherlock shouted as he rushed over to your side.

He cradled you in his arms and you looked up at him.

"Sher-Sherlock."  You breathed.

"Shh, save your strength. We're gonna get you out of here. John call the police and an ambulance!"  He shouted.

"Sherlock, I just want you to know, that I love you."  You said.

"What do you mean?"  Sherlock asked.

"I've always loved you. I just wanted you to love me back. But I guess that's too lat now."  You said.

"No, no it's not too late. We can get through this, y/n....I love you too."  He whispered.

A small smile spread on your face as you heard him say that. You reached your hands up, cupped his face in your hands and kissed him. You had always wanted to do that and you finally did for the first and last time. You fell back down into his arms, still barely conscious. Soon, sirens were heard and policemen started to come into the building.

"It's been a pleasure working with you Sherlock. I love you."  You whispered and slipped away.

"No!  No! Y/n, stay with me!  Stay with me please!"  Sherlock cried.

"Sherlock."  John said putting his arm on Sherlock's shoulder.

Sherlock shrugged his hand off and stared down at your cold lifeless body as a tear slid down yours and his cheek. He wiped that last tear away and smiled down at you as best he could.

"Please don't leave me."  He whispered and kissed your forehead.

The paramedics came in and took you away. They hooked you up but found that you didn't have a heartbeat. They were too late. You were dead. Sherlock sat in the back of the ambulance staring at you sadly. He didn't even know he lived you until he lost you and it caused him so much pain the times to come.
He would visit your grave everyday and leave you new flowers when the old ones died. He would sometimes just sit there, his back against the gravestone. And sometimes it helped him think when he was there, almost as if being there was like he was thinking with you present. But once he realized you weren't there he would become sad and then leave. He wished you would just come back but he knew that this wasn't like what he did. You were actually gone and it felt horrible.

"Well, I guess I know how you felt now."  He said to your grave one day and let a tear drip down before turning on his hell and leaving.

His new found love was gone and he couldn't bring you back. And he wanted to do it so much.

A/n:  So sorry for the sad one but I had no other idea so....I will keep thinking, but please check out my other Sherlock imagines book!  I would really appreciate it...a lot!!  Thank you guys so much!!!!  You're all awesome!