Sophia Holmes and the Reichenbach Fall (Sherlock's Daughter Fanfic) *Completed*

*Sherlock's POV*

"What is it?" I ask as John comes off the phone.

"Paramedics," he replies. "Sophie - she's been shot."

"What?" I say, unconcerned. "How?"

Despite knowing Sophie for almost two years now, he still doesn't recognise her when she's putting on a voice down the phone.

"Well, probably one of the killers you managed to attract ..." he replies frantically. "Jesus. Jesus. She's dying, Sherlock. Let's go." He turns towards the door.

"You go," I say nonchalantly. "I'm busy."

John turns back around looking appalled. "Busy?"

"Thinking. I need to think."

"You need to ...? Doesn't she mean anything to you?" His tone turns to fury. "She's dying ..." He flails a hand in front of him in disbelief. "You machine." John looks down, shaking his head. "Sod this. Sod this," he says, starting back towards the door. "You stay here if you want, on your own."

"Alone is what I have," I argue. "Alone protects me."

John opens the door and looks back at me angrily. "No. Friends protect people." He storms out the door and I watch him go. That will move him out the picture for a while, letting me do what needs to be done.

As if on cue, my phone trills a text alert and I take it out of my pocket anf read the message.

'I'm waiting...
JM'

Taking a deep breath, I put my coat back on and head upstairs to the roof.

I had to say goodbye. If Sophie had come, she would have realised what I was about to do and try to stop me but this needs to be done.

As I reach the roof, the first thing I hear is the song 'Stayin' Alive' playing and as I open the door I see Moriarty sat, sharply dressed in a suit and overcoat, on the raised ledge at the end of the roof.

"Ah," he says, not looking up. "Here we are at last - you and me, Sherlock, and our problem - the final problem." He holds the phone up higher. "Stayin' alive! It's so boring, isn't it?" He angrily switches the music off and holds his hand out flat with the palm down and skims it through the air. "It's just ... staying." He pulls his hand back and briefly sinks his head into ut as I begin to pace around. "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." I turn my head in disagreement as he continues. "And you know what? In the end it was easy." I stop pacing as Moriarty’s tone changes to quiet disappointment. "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 as he rubs his face before looking up at me. "Ah well." He stands up and walks closer, beginning to pace around me slowly. "Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get you?"

"Richard Brook," I reply as an answer. It took me longer than it should, I would bet Sophie got it immediately.

"Nobody seems to get the joke, but you do."

"Of course."

"Attaboy."

"Rich Brook in German is Reichen Bach," I explain, "the case that made my name."

"Just tryin' to have some fun," he says in a mock American accent and I tap my fingers in the rhythm he gave in the flat. "Good. You got that too."

"Beats like digits," I say. Again, it's something I should have told Sophie. She would have given anything for this code. I didn't want to risk her life in doing it. "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 told all my clients: last one to Sherlock is a sissy."

"Yes, but now that it's up here," I say, gesturing to my head, "I can use it to alter all the records. I can kill Rich Brook and bring back Jim Moriarty."

He looks at me for a moment before turning away, looking disappointed. "No, no, no, no, no, this is too easy," he says, burying his head in his hands. "This is too easy." He lowers his hands and turns back to me. "There is no key, DOOFUS! Those digits are meaningless. They're utterly meaningless." I can't hide the confusion on my face. It doesn't make sense. Why do this at all if there was no code? "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 speaks. "I'm disappointed in you, ordinary Sherlock."

"But the rhythm ..."

"'Partita number one'," he cries. "Thank you, Johann Sebastian Bach."

"But then how did ..."

"Then how did I break into the Bank, to the Tower, to the Prison?" He turns and spreads his arms wide. "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."

My attention is drawn back in by his words. "Do it?" I ask, bewildered. "Do - do what?" I realise a second later. "Yes, of course. My suicide."

"'Genius detective proved to be a fraud'," he says. "I read it in the paper, so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairytales."

I wander over to the edge of the roof and look over the side. Sophie never liked heights. I'm glad she's not here to see this.

Moriarty walks over and joins me, looking over the side. "And pretty Grimm ones too."