Frozen Kisses (Jim Moriarty x Sherlock Holmes)

Chapter Thirty Five- "I Hurt His Pressure Point And That's You"

~Sherlock~

"Anderson, SHUT UP!" I shouted with frustration, "Nobody cares about your wrong opinions".

"I'm just saying", Anderson glared at me, "It can't be a murder because there's no fingerprints".

"Oh, bravo!" I clapped sarcastically, "Murderers aren't idiots, Anderson. They should know by now to wipe of fingerprints. Honestly, who the hell actually allowed you even look at a crime scene?!"

Anderson scowled at me before storming out.

"Freak?" Sally Donavon walked in with a phone in her hand, "It's for you".

She carelessly tossed me the phone and walked back out.

"Hello?" I asked, still staring at the dead corpse in front of me. Hair was cut unevenly after the death by someone. Interesting.

"Sherlock?" John asked through the phone.

"John? What is it?" I questioned worriedly because he never usually phoned me rather than actually taking in person.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" John asked.

"Bad news, obviously", I scoffed, "It's always a relief to have something cheer you up after a tragedy".

"Okay", John paused, "Well, don't get mad and hang up like you always do, alright? You need to listen to me until I'm finished".

"I'm listening", I said.

"Well, I just paid a visit to your ever-so-lovely boyfriend", John replied sarcastically, "I did something stupid and told him to break up with you. And then he attacked me, you know, naturally".

"First of all, why the hell are you getting involved in my personal life?" I asked with annoyance but then change my tone, "And, second of all, are you...okay?"

"I'm...fine", John hesitated.

"I can't believe you told him to break up with me", I frowned, "And I can't believe he hurt you again after what happened last time".

"No, listen, that's the good news...kind of", John paused, "Before throwing my head down on the floor for the third time, Moriarty said something to me that actually made me think about how I've been taking this. He told me to never put my selfishness before your happiness. Then, I realised, I am being selfish, aren't I?"

"John", I sighed but he carried on talking.

"That is exactly what I have been doing", John explained, "Yes, Moriarty may be a murdering, arrogant, annoying psychopath but if he makes you happy-and I mean if he's genuinely making you happy-then...well, I'm happy for you".

I looked at the floor, not really knowing what to say.

"Thank you", I smiled even though I knew he couldn't see me, "Just...thank you".

"That's fine", John replied, "But just promise me one thing, okay? Don't be too hard on him when you get back. The only reason he hurt me is because I hurt his pressure point. And that's you".

"Okay, I promise", I said truthfully, "I've got to go, John, but I really appreciate this".

"I know", John said, "Hopefully, I'll see you soon".

"You will", I promised, "Don't worry. Just because I moved out, that doesn't mean you're not my best friend anymore".

"Oh, thank God", John sighed with relief, "Okay, I've got to go as well. Mrs Hudson is fussing about the mess. Bye, Sherlock".

"Bye, John", I hung up.

I quickly made my way towards the door and ran through the hallway, receiving strange glances from Anderson and Donavon. Lestrade was the one who actually stopped me.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lestrade asked, grabbing me by the shoulder.

"Something important came up", I said vaguely.

"What about the case?" Lestrade complained.

"Murder made to look like a suicide. Killed with a gun to the head, opposite angle of the possible aim from the right hand. The killer put the gun in her hand but the wrong hand. That was their mistake", I explained, quickly, "Come on, Lestrade. This is elementary stuff".

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, pushing past Lestrade and running to my car. I started the engine as quickly as I could and drove even faster, maybe even running a few red lights. When I arrived, I jumped out and ran to the door and then I realised I didn't have to knock anymore because I lived here now.

I opened the door and made my way to the living room which is where I new he would be. I was right.

"Sherlock", Jim was sitting on the sofa chair and head was in his hands but he sensed my arrival without even looking at me, "Something bad just happened".

"I know", I nodded, "John told me. Look, it wasn't the right thing to do but I'm not mad because John explained it properly. I know sometimes you can't control your anger. It's fine. I'm still going to love you no matter what".

He didn't reply and his head was still buried in his hands.

"Jim?" I asked, starting to worry.

He finally looked up at me.

"Are you...crying?" I squinted, trying to see if my eyes were tricking me.

But, even when I focused my vision properly on him, I could still see the red eyes and the tears streaming down his face.

"What's wrong?" I approached him and kneeled down so I could see him fully.

Jim stared at me with sadness. His eyes looked tired and dead, as if he had had enough of everything. It was only then when I took his hands in mine that I realised the blood hidden behind his arms. My head went numb as I slowly brought his arms away and saw the bullet wound in his stomach.