Bart's hospital, daybreak.

I watched as my arch nemesis Richard Brooke, sat calmly on the raised ledge of the roof. He had his phone in the palm of his hand and from it blared the Beegee's Staying Alive. He doesn't look up at me as I walk cautiously toward him.

"Well... Here we are at last – you and me, Sherlock, and our problem – the final problem..."
He raises the phone higher.
"Stayin' alive! ... So boring, isn't it?!"

He angrily shuts off the phone.

"It's just ..." He moves his hand in a straight line. "... staying."
He pulls his hand back and briefly sinks his head into it while I pace around the roof in front of him.

"All my life I've been searching for distractions. You were the best distraction and now I don't even have you. Because I've beaten you." He says disappointedly.
I turn sharply towards him as he continues to pace.
"And you know what? In the end it was easy." He says sadly.
I stop and fold my hands behind my back.
"It was easy. Now I've got to go back to playing with the ordinary people. And it turns out you're ordinary just like all of them..." He lowers his head again and rubs his face before looking up at me.
"Ah well." He stands up and walks closer, then starts to pace slowly around me.
"Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get you?"

"Richard Brook." I state disdainfully.
"Nobody seems to get the joke, but you do." He smiles.
"Of course." I say thinking back to when I first met this man.
"Attaboy." Jim grins.
"Rich Brook in German is Reichen Bach – the case that made my name." I say. (He must have commissioned somebody to make that painting.)
"Just tryin' to have some fun." He states with a fake american accent.
He continues to pace around me, he looks down to my hands and sees that I am tapping out a rhythm with my fingers.
"Good. You got that too." He sasses.
"Beats like digits." I say. "Every beat is a one; every rest is a zero. Binary code. That's why all those assassins tried to save my life. It was hidden on me; hidden inside my head – a few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system." I state, playing dumb.
"I told all my clients: last one to Sherlock is a sissy." Jim states.
I gesture to my head. "Yes, but now that it's up here, I can use it to alter all the records. I can kill Rich Brook and bring back Jim Moriarty."
Jim gazes at me for a moment, then turns away with a disappointed look on his face.
"No, no, no, no, no, this is too easy." He buries his head in his hands. "This is too easy."
Lowering his hands, he turns back to me.
"There is no key, DOOFUS!" He screams in my face. "Those digits are meaningless. They're utterly meaningless."
I act confused.
"You don't really think a couple of lines of computer code are gonna crash the world around our ears? I'm disappointed."
He turns away and lumbers across the roof, making his voice sound moronic as he continues speaking.
"I'm disappointed in you, ordinary Sherlock!" He says madly.
"But the rhythm ..." I say stupidly.

"'Partita number one.' Thank you, Johann Sebastian Bach!" He yells.
"But then how did ..." I start.
"Then how did I break into the Bank, to the Tower, to the Prison?" Jim cuts me off waving his arms around. "Daylight robbery! All it takes is some willing participants."
"...I knew you'd fall for it. That's your weakness – you always want everything to be clever. Now, shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you chose a tall building – nice way to do it." He states venomously.
And now to make him believe he bested me!
"Do it? Do – do what?" I blink. Then it hits me. "Yes, of course. My suicide."
"'Genius detective proved to be a fraud.' I read it in the paper, so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairytales."
I walk to the edge of the roof and lean forward, looking over the side to the ground below. Jim walks to stand beside me and looks over the side as well.
"And pretty Grimm ones too." He says turning to look at me ominously.

We turn to face each other.
"I can still prove that you created an entirely false identity." I state.
"Oh, just kill yourself. It's a lot less effort!" Jim says wearily.
I turn from him pacing to help me think.
"Go on. For me." Jim smiles. "Pleeeeeease?" He squeals.
I grab Jim by the collar and drag him over to the edge of the building.
"You're insane!" I exclaim.
Jim blinks at me.
"You're just getting that now?" He sasses.
I drag him nearer. "Whoa whoa whoa!" he exclaims, clinging on to me.
"Okay, let me give you a little extra incentive."
I frown at Jim as his voice becomes murderous.
"Your friends will die if you don't."
I feel fear creeping into my soul, what if this doesn't work.
"John."
"Not just John."(In a whisper) "Everyone."
"Mrs Hudson."
"Everyone." He smiles.
"Lestrade." I say.

'Keyland.' I think watching as the madness takes over Richard's face.
"Three bullets; three gunmen; three victims. There's no stopping them now."
I reluctantly pull the mad man back onto the roof.
"Unless my people see you jump." He says.
I act lost.
"You can have me arrested; you can torture me; you can do anything you like with me; but nothing's gonna prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only three friends in the world will die ... unless ..."
"... unless I kill myself – complete your story." I finish.
"You've gotta admit that's sexier." Jim says with an odd tone.
"And I die in disgrace."
"Of course. That's the point of this." He says looking at me like he cannot fathom my stupidity.
" Oh, you've got an audience now. Off you pop." He says looking over the side of the building.

"Go on."
I take a step up onto the ledge.
"I told you how this ends."
I look down at the ground below.
"Your death is the only thing that's gonna call off the killers. I'm certainly not gonna do it."
He looks at me expectantly.
"Would you give me ... one moment, please; one moment of privacy?" I beg as I look down at him.
"Please?"
"Of course." Jim says graciously walking across the roof.
I take several shallow anxious breaths, then he stops breathing for a moment as his brain kicks into gear again. He lifts his gaze and Slowly a smile spreads across his face and he starts to chuckle. Behind him, Jim is slowly walking away across the roof but he stops, his expression livid, when Sherlock laughs with delight. Jim spins around furiously.)
"What?!" Jim yells.
I continue laughing.
"What is it?! ...What did I miss?" He yells again.
I hop down off the ledge and walk on over to him.
"'You're not going to do it.'" So the killers can be called off, then – there's a recall code or a word or a number."
I circle him smiling.
"I don't have to die... if I've gOt yoU." I sing.
"Oh!"he laughs delightedly. "You think you can make me stop the order? You think you can make me do that?" He smiles.
"Yes. So do you." I add.
"Sherlock, your big brother and all the King's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to." Jim boasts.
I get into Jim's face. "Yes, but I'm not my brother, remember? I am you – prepared to do anything; prepared to burn; prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell? I shall not disappoint you." I say.

Jim shakes his head. "Naah. You talk big. Naah. You're ordinary. You're ordinary – you're on the side of the angels."
"Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that I am one of them." I say ominously.
We lock eyes for a long moment while Jim tries to deduce how far I will go.
"No, you're not." Jim blinks. "I see. You're not ordinary. No. You're me." He says with an insane smile.
He hisses out a delighted laugh and his voice becomes more high-pitched.
"You're me! Thank you!" He exclaims.
He lifts his right hand as if to embrace me, but then lowers it and offers it for me to shake instead.
"Sherlock Holmes."
We both look down at the offered hand, then I slowly raises my own right hand and takes it.
"Thank you. Bless you." He says softly nodding frantically.
"As long as I'm alive, you can save your friends; you've got a way out." He admits.
"Well, good luck with that."

He stares at me grinning manically, opens his mouth wide and pulls me closer while he reaches into his waistband with his other hand and pulls out a pistol, he raises it towards his own mouth. As I instinctively pull back, crying out in alarm. Jim sticks the muzzle into his own mouth and pulls the trigger, dropping to the roof instantly. I stare in horror as blood begins to trickle across the roof underneath Jim's head. Jim's eyes are fixed and open and there is a smile of victory on his face. I spin away from him, frantically trying to think about what to do. 

'If he killed himself then Keyland will die... Unless I 'die' too. Good thing Brother mine made a plan!'

I act frantic for a while, then slowly turn towards the edge of the building. Allowing my breathing to slow as I step up onto the ledge, and look down towards the ground.

In the street below, John's taxi pulls up. I takes out my phone and select John's speed dial. The answering phone begins to ring below me as John gets out of the taxi and raises his phone to his ear as he trots towards the hospital.
"Hello?" John says answering his phone.
"John." I say softly.
"Hey, Sherlock, you okay?" He asks. I ignore his question.
"Turn around and walk back the way you came now." I order.
"No, I'm coming in." John says dumbly.
"Just do as I ask. Please!" I exclaim frantically.
"Where?" John asks as he walks back to his spot.
"Stop there." I demand.
"Sherlock?" He asks worriedly
"Okay, look up. I'm on the rooftop." I say firmly.
John turns and looks up, his face filling with horror.
"Oh Gosh." John says.
"I ... I ... I can't come down, so we'll ... we'll just have to do it like this." I stutter.
"What's going on?" John asks anxiously.

"An apology. It's all true." I lie.
"Wh-what?"

'Forgive me John' I think.
"Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty."
I look around briefly at his enemy's grinning body lying behind him. On the ground, John stares up at me in disbelief.
"Why are you saying this?" John asks.

"I'm a fake." I say my voice breaking.
"Sherlock ..."
"The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade; I want you to tell Mrs Hudson, and Molly ... in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty for my own purposes." I say tears filling my eyes.
"Okay, shut up, Sherlock, shut up. The first time we met ... the first time we met, you knew all about my sister, right?" John says angrily.
"Nobody could be that clever." I state.
"You could." John says.
"I researched you. Before we met I discovered everything that I could to impress you."I sniff as a tear rolls down my cheek. "It's a trick. Just a magic trick." I say.
"No. All right, stop it now." John demands, moving toward the hospital entrance.
"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move." I demand as I watch Mycroft's team bring out the air cushion.
John stops and backs up. "All right." He says.

"Keep your eyes fixed on me!...Please, will you do this for me?!" I say frantically.
"Do what?" John asks.
"This phone call – it's, er ... it's my note. It's what people do, don't they – leave a note?" I say anxiously.
"Leave a note when?" Says John shaking his head.
"Goodbye, John." I state with an air of finality.
"No. Don't." John gasps.
I stare at him for a moment throwing my phone to the side.
"No. SHERLOCK!!" John yells.

____
Sherlock spreads his arms to either side and falls forward, plummeting towards the ground. John stares in utter horror.
"Sher..." John gasps.
A couple of seconds later the body* impacts the ground.

John's hearing whites out as his entire body focuses on getting to Sherlock as soon as he can. Sherlock had disappeared from view towards the end of his fall because a building was in the way of John's view of him, and John now runs to the corner of the building, then slows down and stops in the middle of the road when he gets his first glimpse of the still figure lying on the wet pavement, the lower part of his body obscured by a lorry parked at the roadside. Behind John, a young man on a fast pedal cycle slams into him and sends him crashing to the ground, his head hitting the asphalt hard. Groaning, he struggles to stay conscious while, nearby, people begin to run towards the body on the pavement. The lorry pulls away and a couple of medics from the hospital hurry out and start trying to prevent the onlookers from getting too close. Grimacing with pain, John rolls onto his side and looks across to the pavement where Sherlock is lying on his side with a lot of blood under his head. Slowly John hauls himself to his feet and stumbles towards him as more onlookers gather, talking excitedly about what they saw. John forces himself onward.

(*Not Sherlock.)

"Sherlock, Sherlock ..." John whispers running to the landing site.

"I'm a doctor, let me come through. Let me come through, please!" John says elbowing his way in through the crowd.

"No, he's my friend. He's my friend. Please." John says brokenly.
He reaches down to take hold of Sherlock's wrist, searching for a pulse. A woman peels his fingers off and she and another person pull him away. As he reaches towards his friend again, more medics arrive with a wheeled stretcher.)
"Please, let me just ..." John begs.
The impact of the shock and the bang on his head begin to take effect and his knees give out. As he slumps to the floor supported by a couple of onlookers, two people gently roll Sherlock onto his back revealing his blood stained face and wide staring eyes. John groans in utter despair.
"Nggh, Just no."
He tries to stand but sinks back again.
"Gosh, no."
As the onlookers support him, four people lift Sherlock's body onto the stretcher and then rapidly wheel it away into the hospital. John stares after it, his face blank and uncomprehending. He finally manages to get to his feet and shakes off his helpers, staring blindly in the direction that his friend's body was taken.
In a nearby building, a rifle sight is aimed directly at John's head. As John continues to stand in profile to the sniper, a perfect target, the assassin lifts his gun back inside the window and begins to disassemble the weapon. Packing it into his bag, he stands up and walks away.

"It's done Moran, yeah It went just like he said it would. Like clockwork. You can come get him now." The assassin says as he leaves the building. 

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