Stranger: Sherlock? Mycroft, what are you talking about?! *His frantic expression confirmed Mycrofts thoughts. John had always known somewhere deep down that Sherlock wasn't dead, and he would do anything to get him back*
You: Mycroft handed John some pictures of Sherlock while he was trying to hide. "We are sure. Completely and utterly." He let John look over the different pictures of his brother.
Stranger: "Damn him" He looked at Mycroft. "I'm going to assume that you tried to contact him before coming here. If he won't talk to his own bother, what makes you think he'll appear for me?" His lips pressed into a line as he glanced back down at the pictures
You: "I have. Several times on that number. But you know him, he just deletes my text messages." He leans forwards, elbows on knees and head in hands. "Will you help us? He will show up for you because he does actually care for you. More than me at least."
Stranger: John frowned, and glanced out the window. "I can get roof access to St. Barts..." He turned back to the older Holmes brother. "How long have you know?"
You: He looks at John, seeing the pain in his eyes. "We found out the number a couple of months ago. I text him weekly, but he never replies." He leans back in the chair.
Stranger: "Months?! And you're just now.." He rises angrily. "I have been trying to move on. For three years. Three years, and you find out that he's alive months ago?!"
You: "John. Please. Calm down." Mycroft was packing up his stuff when he got an idea. "Yes. Keep screaming at me. Run me out onto the street. Start crying. Get angry. Go to St. Barts." He looked at John dead in the eye. "This could work. Keep yelling, it makes it more believable."
Stranger: John shoved the paper with the cell number into his pocket. "You waited, all that time to tell me! You couldn't, just this once, make an exception from secrecy for a friend? Oh, I almost forgot. The closest thing you have to a friend is Jim Moriarty, and he's a murderous psychopath!!" Johns face was turning slightly red, and tears were already welling up in his eyes.
You: Mycroft could tell that this was just hell breaking loose. It was all of the feelings that John had stored up for the past three years, he wasn't sure that he wanted him to go onto the roof of that building. "John, you don't need to be this angry. Please." Mycroft was backing away from the screaming man.
Stranger: "Did you really not expect me to be this angry, Mycroft? He was the only thing I had!" He paused, and took a few deep breaths. "The only thing I have" He snatched his phone from the desk. "I'm going to St. Barts." He pushed past Mycroft as he headed for the door.
You: Mycroft was sincerly scared for John's well being. He ran to the door, calling back to John when he reached it and he was in plain view of anyone who could be watching. "John! I am sorry! Please forgive me!" He opened his umbrella.
Stranger: John ignored Mycrofts apology, and tried to get a taxi. His hands were shaking, and his throat and chest hurt from screaming. He slipped out his phone, and quickly typed a message. He pulled out Sherlock's number and copied it to the sending address. He hesitated for a moment, before pressing the send button. A taxi pulled up beside him, and he climbed in, shouting "St. Barts" before the driver could ask where he was heading.
You: Sherlock watched it all. He was two doors down and across the street in an abandoned flat. He always watched John from there, but he couldn't see inside of 221B. He watched as Mycroft walked into the flat like he did every week. But this time, something was up. He saw the way that Mycroft was walking and the way he was holding his brief case. He was in the flat for approximately 15 minutes before returning back outside. He noticed the expression on Mycroft's face, obviously something was wrong. John came out, screaming and crying. He had no idea what was going on. When John hailed a taxi, he got up from his spot and chased after it, dodging in alleyways and behind trash cans ensuring that John woudln't see him.
Stranger: John arrived at the hospital, and found his way to the roof. He checked his phone for any new messages, there not being any, before walking closer to the edge. His legs stiffened at the blood stains on the ground from where Moriarty had shot himself. "I know you got the message.." he whispered, looking out over the street. "Reply. Please.."
You: Sherlock finally recieved the message when he reached the alleyway where he was going to silently watch John. It read,
You: 'Sherlock, this is my note. I am joining you in heaven. Thank you for all that you have done for me.' Sherlock closed his phone. "No no no no no no." He was trying to think of what to do. If he let John know that he was alive, Moran would track them both down. If he let him jump, it would all be for nothing. He decided to call John after seeing him climb onto the edge. "John. Please don't do this."
Stranger: "You let me think, for three years, that you were dead. Three years, Sherlock. Mycroft told me today that you've been hiding. What the hell is wrong with you?" He took a step down from the ledge, and then, remembering that he was supposed to act suicidal, stepped back up again.
You: Sherlock was baffled. "The only reason why you are doing this is because Mycroft told you to isn't it?!?" Sherlock took a step back into the shadows. "What in the actual fuck. I can't believe Mycroft." He kicked a trashcan that was next to him. "Just get down from there. It will be safe for me to come get you once I am done taking care of Moriarty, I will be with you. Just get down."
Stranger: "You were the only thing that I had, Sherlock. How can you be so..so selfish?! You told me once, that I was your only friend. That I was the only one you trusted. Prove that to me now. Don't disappear again."
You: Sherlock sighed. "I wasn't being selfish. If Moriarty's snipers didn't believe that I had died, or they would have killed you, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade. I wouldn't be able to live knowing that you were gone forever." He looked back up at John. "You are the only one I trust, my only friend. I have to keep you safe. Just don't do this. You know I am here."
Stranger: ( :,( )
John stepped down from the ledge. "I swear to God, Sherlock.." He paused, peering over the ledge. "Can I see you?"
You: Sherlock hid a bit further. "I don't want you to. You can't." He prayed that he was hidden well enough. "You mustn't."
Stranger: "Sherlock, I need to see you. It's the least you can do before you disappear again. I know it's dangerous...but I need to know you're there, and not just a voice on the phone."
You: Sherlock let out another sigh, practically shaking. "O-Okay." He walked out to the spot where John had stood when he was up there. "I am exactly where you were. Please." He swallowed. "Get down from there."
Stranger: John stared at Sherlock, not moving a muscle. Sherlock was exactly as he remembered him. It was hard to believe that Sherlock was there, looking at him. "I..I see you." John said, his voice straining. "Go."
You: Sherlock nodded. "John. Thank you for understanding. Now please get down." He wasn't going to move until John got down first. "I am not leaving you up there."
Stranger: John sighed. "Sherlock, I'm not going to jump. Not now. Just go."
You: "Okay." Sherlock turned around and headed back into the shadows, still not hanging up. "Just call whenever you need it John. I will be here. But don't tell Mycroft okay? I won't address any of the messages he sends me."
Stranger: John laughed. "Even after all this, you won't talk to your brother..." He paused, looking out at the street where Sherlock had been. "How long..how long will you be away?"
You: Sherlock looked back at him. "Until all threat upon you is gone. I cannot stand the thought of you getting hurt." He wanted everything to be over so he could just go back to his normal life with John, but he couldn't