Dog Tags

PartThirteen The Final Part

Moriarty was upstairs taking a quick shower as you think you hear cars outside. You run over to the window and rip the curtains to the side. You anxiously look around, begging fate that Sherlock would be here like he always is. It's too dark for you to see people, but you just barely make out the shapes of two cars. You go upstairs calmly and sit on the bed. You grab your pair of army boots and pants out from under the bed and slip them on. You also grab a knife you hid in your suitcase for emergency and put it in your pocket. Quietly you slip downstairs. Your heart skips a beat and you walk faster when you hear the shower go silent. You flick out all the lights downstairs to make it more difficult for Moriarty to get to you. "C?" He calls out. He rumbles under upstairs and you know he's mad. You try the door but it's still locked. An idea hatches in your head. A brilliant idea... You go to the kitchen door and open it quickly then slam it shut. Then you hide by the stair case with your knife in hand. Moriarty comes storming down the stairs and he immediately goes for the door, thinking you were able to get out the front door. He rustles around for the key and finally unlocks the door. He runs outside, leaving the door wife open. You wait a moment until you can barely hear his footsteps. The adrenaline fuels you as you shove your knife back into your pocket and go into a full on sprint. Just as you are able to make out the image of another person coming towards you, you're tackled to the ground. A horrible pain hits you in the side and you feel warm blood all over your arm. You try to yell out to whoever you saw but the pain stops your voice from even squeaking out the smallest word. Your arms are pulled behind your back and you're yanked to your feet. You lean against Moriarty as he points a gun against your lower chest. You try to pull away as you hear Sherlock. "Moriarty!" He comes within eyesight. "Put down the gun and give her back." Moriarty laughs. "Oh Sherlock, do you honestly believe I would let you win that easily? If you even take one more step toward us, I'll pull the trigger and both of us will die! And the blood will be on your hands Sherlock!" He was completely serious but you weren't afraid. If he did pull the trigger, you were ready. You already told Sherlock what you needed to. "Do you know her name?" Sherlock asks quickly. Moriarty fidgets a little. "W-what? What kind of question is that?" "Do, you know, her name?" Sherlock asks again slowly. Moriarty takes a deep, annoyed breath and whispers in your ear. "What's your name?" You smile mischievously and laugh. "I'll die before I tell you my name." "Fine. If that's the way you want it," Moriarty cocks his gun. "then that's the way you'll have it." The sound is too familiar. The sound of a gun shot. You always knew that was going to be the way you died but you never thought it was going to outside of the war zone. That sound was too familiar and you didn't like it, especially when it's the last sound you hear.

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Sherlock's POV:

Moriarty was cremated last night. John and I assisted Molly in this progress. I felt like I should've been relieved to know my biggest enemy was truly dead but I wasn't. John kept repeating that to me but I couldn't respond. For the first time in my life, I was thoughtless. I finally decided to do it. I was going to visit her. After about two weeks of John trying to get me to see her, I gave in to it. I packed my violin and grabbed my jacket. The drive was long and quiet with John. I fingered her dog tag the whole way there. John parked the car and got out. I stayed inside, still fingering her tag. I looked down at the worn away chain and scratches all along the dull silver tag. John just waited patiently outside for me, knowing this was difficult for me. I picked up my violin and slowly got out of the car. The wind was cold and bitter as it blew in our faces. We walked slowly to where she was. I sighed gently as I looked at her with the gentle eyes she always loved. I sat next to her and pulled out my violin. I started to play gently as John kept his distance. The tune was slow and quiet. I tried to not get distracted by the sound of the monitors in her hospital room. She had been in coma ever since the doctors removed the bullet from her chest. They said she was lucky enough to have the bullet just barely miss her heart, but she wasn't lucky enough to not have lost so much blood. It was extremely unusual to have her be in coma for so long just from blood loss. All I wanted was to hear her voice again. Even if it was her dying words, I just would want to hear her voice. John was called out of the room and I began to play louder as the noise from the monitors got more obnoxious. My eyes were closed tight to try to hold back tears. I jumped as I felt a gentle hand on my knee. My eyes popped open as I saw her eyes just barely open. I immediately hugged her tightly. I let the tears stream down my face as joy once again filled my heart. I got what I wished. "Hello my dear Sherlock." She said in a quiet, raspy voice. I kissed her softly as she finished her sentence. "Hello my dear Casey."