Pretty Stranger...Why Are You Following Me? (Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter Twenty-One

I stared at my phone.

Saint Bart's. NOW!

It read. I got up and slipped on a jacket, running out the door. I got a cab and headed straight for Saint Bart's. I threw some money to the driver and ran into the hospital.

It'd been about month since James Moriarty had been set free. And he'd been making up stories. Ones about him being an actor. Calling Sherlock a fraud. It terrified me. What would Sherlock do? What was Moriarty planning?

I found Sherlock in the morgue, sitting on the floor and bouncing a ball against a cabinet. He looked up when I pushed the door open.

"What's up?" I asked. "I don't know, but I have to tell you something." Sherlock said, standing up quickly. He walked slowly towards me, taking my hands in his once he was close enough. "Go on...." I encouraged. "Let's hear it." Sherlock closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I figured out what I was hiding from you." He said quietly. "What is it?" I asked. He opened his eyes and looked directly into mine.

"I love you."

I stared at him in shock, unable to find words. He gave me a quick kiss and ran out the doors. He can back only minutes after.

"Don't follow me." He said, leaving quickly - again.

I smirked slightly, still in shock, and said, "like that's going to happen." And I hurried after him. Down the halls and up the the stairs. To the roof. I burst through the door and found Sherlock and Moriarty standing there.

"Oh, look," Moriarty grinned maliciously. "It's your girlfriend." Sherlock turned and looked at me. His face hurt and scared.

"I told you not to follow me, Emily." He said. "Whatever he's planning, I'm not letting you go through this alone." I said. "Oh, how charming." Moriarty said, his voice playing a fake sweet tone. I glared at him. "So you're willing to give your life for him?" He laughed, pointing at Sherlock.

"How....ordinary."

Sherlock shit a glare at him. "Of course, you're both ordinary." Moriarty continued.

"It really is sad," he was in front of Sherlock now, blocking my view. "I thought you were different. A good opponent. But you're not. You're just like everyone else. You're an angel. And you fight with the angels. Just like everyone else." Sherlock stared at him.

Third Person:

"Look at me." Sherlock said. "I may fight for the angels, but I'm not one of them." Moriarty nodded. "You aren't. I see it now. You're just like me." He said, his voice filled with glee. But his eyes showed pain.

"That's just going to make this hurt." He said, stepping back from Sherlock. "I can stop you." Sherlock said. "Yes, I know you can. You've already told me that. But I've got one card that you don't know about." Moriarty said.

"And what is that?" Sherlock asked.

"Everyone of the people you care about could die if you don't do what I ask."

Sherlock shook his head. "That's not possible." He said, his voice filled with fear. But Sherlock knew it was possible. "Who all do you think I care about?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, the first three everyone knows you care about. The fourth, well, people honestly don't care about her. And she is standing right there." Moriarty said, pointing to Emily.

Emily stiffened. Sherlock froze as well.

"So, your choice. Either they die, or you die."

"What if I just call your people off?" Sherlock asked. "I can get that word put of you."

"Sure. But I know a way to prevent that." Moriarty said, pulling a gun out of his jacket pocket. He shoved it in his mouth and pulled the trigger before Sherlock could do a thing.

"Sherlock, don't you dare." Emily hissed as he moved towards the edge. "Don't move, Emily."

Sherlock pulled put his phone and dialed John's number.

•

"Sherlock! DON'T!" Emily shouted.

"I love you, Em." Sherlock said, and he stepped back.

"SHERLOCK!" Emily screamed.

She ran towards the edge and looked over. There was Sherlock, lying limp on the ground, blood surrounding his head. Emily stepped back slowly, her hand over her mouth. Tears slid quickly down her face, pouring over her hand. She collapsed on the ground, sobbing silently. She didn't shout, she didn't scream. She just cried, silently and helplessly. Her hands covering her mouth, as if she was capturing sound that wasn't coming out of her mouth.

Emily didn't move from her spot on the roof for two hours.

John burst through the door on the roof, Molly following her.

"There you are." He gasped. He started towards her, then stopped. "What're you doing up here?" John asked. Emily removed her hands from her mouth and took a deep breath.

"I-I could've stopped him. I-I could've saved his life, like he always did for me. But I just stood there like a bloody idiot." She said slowly, her breath heavy. "Em-" John started, but Emily interrupted him.

"I was scared, like usual. I had a gun pointed at me, but I know I didn't care. I was only inches from him, I could've pulled him down from the ledge. But I just stood there, like I wanted this to happen. All I did was tell him not t-to jump."

"It's not your fault, Emily. This was his choice." John said, not noticing Moriarty's body.

"No it wasn't! None of this was his choice! He did to save me! To save you and Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade and me! If he didn't care about anyone, he wouldn't have jumped, John! Don't you see? This was Moriarty's plan all along." Emily cried.

John stared at her in shock.

"Why are you getting so worked up? He does this all the time." John asked. "I know that. But this time - this I know he did this just for me." Emily whispered. "How do you know that?" John asked. "Be-because...." Emily paused and took a deep breath.

"Because he told me something....important." She said. John frowned. "And what was that?" He asked.

"He told me...." Emily sighed and closed her eyes. Remembering Sherlock's face when he said what he'd said. His eyes filled with fear and joy. His face glowing with happiness. That was how she was going to remember him.

"He told me that he....loved me."