He could have had better final words. He could have renounced all his deeds to you and you might have forgiven him. But instead, he chose this, to break your heart quite possibly without repair. And now, he had to deal with the consequences.

"I owe you a fall," Tom repeated to himself as he faced the lone figure on the roof of the hospital. Neither wavered in their stubborn stance, neither wanting the other to triumph.

"Thomas Sherlock Holmes."

"Phillip James Moriarty Coulson."

"Are you trying to intimidate me?"

"Why would I? We both know why we're both here." Coulson puts his hands in his pockets and leans back.

"Oh? Tell me." While Tom talks, Coulson puts on rubber gloves.

"You drugged Hamlet with a hallucinogen, causing him to out-lash a poison on Amnesty when she was trying to figure out what was wrong with him. He looks at himself and sees his reflection, seeing the killer of his friend. The drug wears off, so when he looks at his older self, he sees the killer once more.

"All a way to ruin my reputation, and, further, to ruin my friendship with (Y/N) so she would move back with you. My name is tarnished, and, with Britain as a world power, along with the United States, I can neither follow her there nor go anywhere else without this murder charge following me. Not only must I let her go, but I must end myself. You came to witness my suicide, my death. Well congratulations, you have won both battles."

Coulson starts clapping nonchalantly. "Good, but not that good."

"Excuse me?" With no warning, Coulson points a gun at Tom, who holds his hands up in defense.

"I'll have you know that you didn't protect yourself. You may not have told (Y/N), but she found out. She broke up with me, said I had changed, while you were taking your merry little time over here."

Tom mentally smirks to himself. Smart girl.

"She chose neither of us; it wasn't an ultimatum. Even if I wanted to be with her, she's got a ticket for the United States. You're familiar with what they called her in the CIA."

The Master of Disguise.

"She can easily create a fake social security number, false identity, fake documents, use her CIA savings from the Swiss banks, and continue on a life that doesn't exist."

"So we both lost, Sherlock. And I'll have you know that I'm a terrible sore loser."

"Get used to it. It's not so bad." Coulson smiles devilishly.

"But you see, I can still win this battle."

"Then pull the trigger." Coulson bobs his head, debating on the matter, then tosses the gun to Tom.

"I owe you a fall. And you owe me a choice."

"I have the gun."

"And if you don't, my men will know their order." Tom stiffens, and Coulson laughs. "You didn't think I forgot, did you? The three people you love most in the world—Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, and even (Y/N)—all just bulls-eyes."

Tom had left too quickly to know that right know, Mrs. Hudson's apartment was ransacked, that she was tied up to a chair, the bullet chamber to her head; that there was a bomb sitting right underneath Lestrade's desk and in his police car, and, with a push of a button, it would deploy; that even though you were on your way to the building, Coulson's snipers were waiting for you, waiting in the buildings to get the shot.

"If they don't see a body go over the ledge, then they have the word. So I ask you again, Sherlock Holmes, will...you...fall?"

"I will fall." Abruptly once more, he strips the gun from Tom.

"Then so will I. My purpose is done. And don't hit (Y/N) on your way down, she hates it when her hair gets messed up." And with that, he sticks the gun in his mouth and pulls the trigger. A blast sounds, and he falls to the roof, a puddle starting to form.

Wait, (Y/N) is here?

***

"Thank again for the ride, Harry."

"You're most welcome. Anything to protect a friend." You smile sadly as you get out the government vehicle. The redhead continues to watch as you walk around the block towards the hospital. You had gotten the address as well, and, tracking the GPS incognito, you knew both of them were currently meeting here.

And Tom now knew too, for he was calling your cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Look up." You do, and you see he's on the ledge. Your eyes widen.

"Tom, get back! What the heck are you doing?"

"You were right. I wasn't honest to you."

"I know I was, but just step back, I'm coming up."

You start for the building, but he shouts into the phone, "Don't you dare take one more step, or I'll jump right now!"

You stop in your tracks, tears starting to form. "Tom, it was a fake ticket. I'm not going anywhere. Please, please, don't do this."

"I have to."

"Is he going to hurt you?"

"His death has side effects." You didn't know whether to feel relieved or hurt even more. All you wanted to do was bundle him up in a blanket and take him home, but you couldn't even move from your place.

"(Y/N), you'll have to accept this as my note."

"Tom, please don't do this to me—"

"I'm sorry that I've been lying to you all this time. I'm nothing more than a fake."

"No you're not , Tom—"

"The only reason why all these cases have been solved quickly is because I had you."

"Poppycock—"

"And I never got to tell you how much I appreciate your help and tried to mask it."

"What are you saying? You're the great Thomas Sherlock Holmes, the greatest detective who ever lived. I believe in you."

There was silence, causing fear into your heart. What if Coulson had survived and just did something to him that you couldn't see? What if he was changing his mind? But if you moved to check, what if he didn't and kept his word? The cliffhanger was killing you; actually, it was about to kill him.

"I love you, girl." That did it. All the tears you had dammed in your eyes, from the moment you left the apartment til now, all the tears you swore you wouldn't show him were now burning on your cheeks.

"I love you more."

"If you say so." You see him throw his phone aside. You scream out his name, horrified as he leaned forward and let gravity do the rest.

***

A/N: Fun fact: Amnesty Woonura and Hamlet Shooms are anagrams. See if you can figure it out. (Kinda cool and symbolic, no?)

If you recognized the last bit of dialogue, then you are absolutely right. I've been thinking about what songs I would use as a soundtrack for inspiration, and Lea Michele's "If You Say So" has always been on it. Will connect as a link on the next chapter.

Thanks for all the comments and messages about this book. I've been feeling really insecure about this one, but I've been receiving encouragement. Thank you all x