Hello there! So I always wondered why Moriarty never pointed a gun at Molly in the last scene of the fall. This is my little idea.
Disclaimer! I do not own the characters, they are works of Sir Conan Doyle, Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss.
Molly.
Even her name is beautiful. I remember her beautiful face as though I saw it yesterday, even though it was months. Being a criminal mastermind has its drawbacks. Not being with her is one of them. Now don't get me wrong! I love being naughty and causing trouble, but meeting her made me think different.
I know I only used her to get to Sherlock; he really is very easy to track down. But the few times we had gone out, despite my first thoughts about her; sweet, kind, pushover, cat lover, abnormally boring and dull, I discovered that I was…attracted to her because of this, normal was something I had forgotten…and missed.
Over our dates I realised she was incredibly smart, loyal and the nicest woman I think I have ever meet. She made me feel…alive. I am an angel of death, with black wings. But she made one of my feathers white.
After I meet Sherlock, I knew he was going to deduce my ploy of playing gay. I of course was right. Her eyes burned with anger as she confronted me, something I had never seen within her. It turned me on...It made me fall in love with her.
While after the incident at the pool, I kept tabs on her. Made sure she was ok. Made sure she was happy. She shouldn't love that monster Sherlock; he is not good enough for my angel. Not nearly good enough. I kept causing havoc, hoping to relieve my boredom and heartbreak. Breaking into the 3 highest security places in Britain and bribing the jury was easier than I realised.
The chat with Sherlock was fun but his apple was shit, too soft. He should look into that.
Up on that roof, I admit, I was excited. Sherlock was going to die, and if he didn't die, all his little friends were going to suffer. But not Molly. I know he considers her a friend of sorts. He relies on her. But I would never, point a gun at my Angel. Never.
When Sherlock told me that he wouldn't have to die if he had me. Of course I knew I was going to have to die, I had prepared for months. I smiled. I thanked him. Blessed him. For two things, for relieving my boredom for a while. But mostly because of him I met Molly.
I pulled the gun out of my pocket. Knowing that my darling angel Molly will think of me as a murderer, a criminal mastermind who never cared for her. I wanted to tell her she was wrong. That I loved her. I opened my mouth and put the gun inside. Molly. I missed her. I pulled the triger and fell back.
Molly.