John's POV:
Sherlock turned away from me. "Goodbye, John." I took his hand, forcing him to face me once more. A single tear rolled down his face. Moriarty adjusted his finger on the gun placed beside my head.
I took a deep breath and let go of Sherlock's hand, watching as he returned to face the edge. I turned towards Moriarty. "Go to hell." And with that I ran at him. A look of surprise appeared on his face as I pushed him. He stumbled backwards, his foot barely balancing on the edge. "You can't win Moriarty," I said shakily. "I always win," he said with a fake smile as he raised the gun to Sherlock.
With one final push, I threw Moriarty off the edge, but I was too late. A gunshot echoed through London. "NOOO"