His Great Game (Sherlock x Reader)

Chapter 40: I Pray the Lord My Soul to Take

(Sherlock's POV)

Dawn was breaking. A new day. The last day I would ever get to see the love of my life.

I rolled the rubber ball back and forth across the bench in Bart's lab monotonously, replaying the last night's events in my head over and over. Moriarty. Kitty Riley. The computer keycode. (Y/n). I winced at the thought of her name, guilt panging me. I knew that after all I had done, she wouldn't be quick to forgive me. She might never forgive me.

But that was ok. At least, that what I was trying to convince myself. How would Mycroft put it? 'The ends justify the means'. But that didn't change anything. Didn't change the fact that I was about to confront Moriarty. Or the fact that I would either die or fake my death- I couldn't be sure which would happen. I didn't know. And I hate not knowing.

I spare a glance at John, who is hunched over another bench, sleeping. I smile to myself. Good old John. My first, and possibly most trusted, friend. But in some ways, he could never compare to (Y/n). She and I share an inexplicable bond.

I feel emotions welling up in my chest. Fear. Guilt. Longing. Love. But I force them down. My death was going to crush John and (Y/n). I had to let them go. No more feelings. No more anything.

They were going to need each other.

Suddenly, a phone ringing splits the silence and I close my eyes quickly as John groggily answers the phone.

"Hello?"

(Your POV)

"John, you better tell me what the fuck is going on. Now."

"Okay, okay. Slow down, I'm just waking up."

"No I will not slow down! What the hell happened last night?!"

"Listen, (Y/n), there's a lot to explain..."

I sit there in shock and disbelief as John explains to me everything that happened in the agonizing 10 hours since Sherlock's getaway.

"So... Moriarty never existed? What the hell!! There's no way he was fake, he tried to kill me! SEVERAL TIMES!!"

"I know, I know," John tries his best to soothe me over the phone. "We know he was real, but he's created all this evidence to make it seem to the rest of the world that Sherlock is a fraud. Mycroft gave Moriarty some information and he spun it into a web of lies."

My stomach dropps. "...Mycroft? Betrayed us?"

"No not exactly... look it's a lot to explain. Where are you? I'm coming to get you."

I look around at my dismal holding room. "Well uh, still at Scotland Yard, no thanks to Sherlock. Where is he by the way? Can I talk to him?" Hope flickers in my chest.

"He's here at Bart's with me but he's in his... mind palace, or something."

I hold back a sigh of frustration. "Fine. Just... come get me out of here John."

"I'm on my way."

(Sherlock's POV)

I hear John click the end call button, but I don't open my eyes just yet.

"Sherlock," he starts, determination in his voice, "It's (Y/n). They've got her locked up at Scotland Yard but they're willing to release her if we come pick her up. Let's go." He grabs his coat and starts for the door.

I do not respond.

"Sherlock?"

I open my eyes slowly. Uncaringly. "I'm not going."