Following the sociopath (Sher/Johnlock one-shots)

The return

"Who needs me now?" I asked Mycroft as I sat on the plane on my way to exile.

"England." Came his one word response. I rolled my eyes but I was secretly happy. I could go back to John. I had tears in my eyes. Weather they were sad tears from the news of leaving or happy tears from the news of coming back, I wasn't sure. I looked out the small rounded window and I could see three small figures below me. John, Mary, and of course, Mycroft. Even from here I could see all of their expressions. John's was happy, overjoyed even. Mary's seemed less happy. Her's was rueful. She looked almost ticked off that I was coming back. I still didn't trust her. I didn't care if she was married to my best friend, I had know she was a liar since day one. But I knew one thing, Mary loved John. That being said, I knew she wouldn't hurt him. At least not intentionally, so I pushed her to the back of my mind for now. Mycroft had a small smile on his face. Anyone who didn't know him as well as I did wouldn't have noticed. I watched the trio below me get closer and then farther away again. Why were we getting farther from them? The pilot was supposed to stop when we got to them. All three of their faces changed so they now all held the same question I was thinking. I jumped out my seat and walked to the cock pit. I didn't even bother knocking on the door before I walked in. I don't think the pilot noticed I had come in. Probably because of the head set he had wrapped around the his skull, completely covering his ears. I spoke loudly to make sure he could hear me. "What are you, stupid? We were supposed to stop right down there." I said in a condescending tone. The man's head slowly turned around so that his face was facing me but his torso wasn't. He had a sly, but still innocent smile on his face that reached his brown eyes.

Moriarty.

I tried not to let the shock show on my face. I should have expected this. But no, I let sentiment, and human emotions get the better of me. I was too focused on Magnussen and protecting John, and of course some other things. But how had I let the greatest criminal master mind on the planet slip past my guard? I tossed this around in my mind as I contemplated a way to get myself out of this situation. I knew that Moriarty could still easily kill John, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade, so I had to think fast, I always did, but I had to put my plan into action now. There was no persuading him, I couldn't manipulate his mind into doing or thinking what I wanted like I could with other people. After a moment of debating I knew there was only way I could make this work.

I would have to crash the plane.

I came at Moriarty from the side. My arms locking around his neck. We fought for endless minutes. Each of us receiving a few scrapes and blows to the face or torso. At one point, I was fairly sure he cut his knuckles trying to punch my cheekbone. The plane started spinning and wobbling out of control with no one to man it. I should be scared, but I wasn't. I knew what I was doing.

I was right there by the dials. I made it look like I was twisting my body around so I could hit him on the left side, but I took my right hand and smacked it down on top of the land button. It flashed bright red and the flashes kept getting faster and a loud beeping started and it too kept getting faster as soon as I hit the button.

Lights flashed throughout the whole plane, making my eyes hurt. The beeping was somehow louder than before. It sounded louder than the fire alarm did when we would have a practice fire drill in elementary school. All the little kids would pull their shoulders up to their ears and cover them with their hands so the noise wouldn't seem as loud. There was no better comparison that I could draw.

The plane was now doing a spiraling nose dive down towards the ground, based on the direction we were headed before and all the little buttons and switched I had pressed or flipped, I assumed we were now no less than half to a whole mile away from John. The plane wouldn't hit him, that much I knew for sure. The rest...not so much. I gave Moriarty one last good hit, knocking him unconscious and then I ran to the back of the plane where I would have the least chance of dying. But it was only a balance of probability. There was a eighty five percent chance that I would die as the plane hit the ground. But nonetheless, I pulled on an oxygen mask from above me and put it on, it would be bad news if I got smoke into my lungs. I then bent down into the safest position to reduce the impact on my body, unbuttoning the top two buttons on my shirt so I could pull it up over my nose, just as an extra safety measure. Usually I wouldn't be that worried with my own safety. I would risk my life just to prove my cleverness, or to save the life of my friends, and as much as I hate to admit it now, I've done drugs in the past and even attempted suicide once in my late teens. But now, I knew John was depending on me. I couldn't leave him alone. Not again. And especially not with Mary there. He was in more danger with her than he had ever been with me. So as I felt the air pressure drop and the plane come closer and closer to the ground I kept memories and thoughts of John in my mind as I braced myself for the jarring impact of the crash. I counted down the seconds until my possible death.

Five...four...three...two...one.

(A/N: Hello all! Yes I know this was short, and I'm sorry. I just thought this would be kinda of a cool way to open season four, but then we'd all have to wait until the next episode to see if he lives (but we should experts on that, we spend two years on hiatus at a time), so that's kinda what I did here. What do you think? Do you think Sherlock lives? Or do you think he died for John once again? I'd love to hear your thoughts! Any type of feedback is greatly appreciated! Until next time,

~Em)