MOLLY'S FLAT
Mycroft had just dropped off the security footage from the Sherrinford Facility, showing what had taken place between Sherlock, and his sister, Eurus, when her mobile buzzed.
It was a text message from Sherlock.
You know where to find me.
SH
SHERRINFORD FACILITY – CELL ONE
"You want to save the governor's wife, choose either Doctor Watson or Mycroft to shoot the governor."
"You can't do it, Sherlock. If you do it, it won't count. I'll kill her anyway. It has to be your brother or your friend."
"Sherlock, pick up the gun. It's your turn next. When I tell you to use it, and I will, remember what happened this time."
Sherlock picked up the gun and checked the barrel. "There's only one bullet left."
"You will only need one. But you will need it."
When Sherlock, John and Mycroft exited the cell, the body count was at two.
SHERRINFORD FACILITY – CELL TWO
"Six months ago, a man called Evans was murdered. Unsolved, except by me… Now, if the police had any brains, they'd realise there are three suspects, all brothers, Nathan Garrideb, Alex Garrideb, and Howard Garrideb. All these photos are up to date, but which one pulled the trigger, Sherlock?"
"Now, as I understand it, Sherlock, you try to repress your emotions to refine your reasoning. I'd like to see how that works. So, if you don't mind, I'm going to apply some context to your deductions."
No sooner were the words out of Eurus' mouth than the three brothers, all tied and gagged appeared onscreen They were strung up, outside the building.
"Two of the Garridebs work here as orderlies, so getting the third along really wasn't too difficult. Once you bring in your verdict, let me know and justice will be done."
"Are you ready to condemn the prisoner?"
"Sherlock, are you ready? "
"Alex." Sherlock responded.
"Say it. Condemn him. Condemn him in the knowledge of what will happen to the man you name."
"I condemn Alex Garrideb."
To Sherlock, Mycroft and John's horror, Nathan and Howard Garrideb were dropped into the sea.
"Congratulations, you got the right one."
"Does it really make a difference, killing the innocent instead of the guilty? Let's see."
And Alex Garrideb joined his brothers in their watery grave.
"No. That felt pretty much the same."
The body count was now five.
SHERRINFORD FACILITY – CELL THREE
"Whose coffin, Sherlock? Please, start your deductions. I will apply some context in a moment."
"You didn't win, you lost. Look what you did to her. Look what you did to yourself. All those complicated little emotions. I lost count. Emotional context, Sherlock, it destroys you every time."
Sherlock reverently placed the coffin lid on top of the coffin, before losing control, tearing the coffin to pieces with his bare hands.
SHERRINFORD FACILITY – CELL FOUR
"Hey, Sis, don't mean to complain, but this one's empty. What happened? Did you run out of ideas?"
"It's not empty, Sherlock. You still have the gun, haven't you?"
"It's an elimination round. You choose one and kill the other. You have to choose, family or friend. Mycroft or John Watson."
"What are you doing?"
"A moment ago, a brave man asked to be remembered." Sherlock placed the gun under his chin. "I'm remembering the governor… Ten…
"No. No, Sherlock…"
"Nine… Eight…"
"You can't!"
"Seven…"
"You don't know about Redbeard yet!"
"Six… Five…"
"Sherlock! Sherlock, stop that at once!"
From the walls, darts were fired at Sherlock and John, hitting both in the back of the neck.
"Four… Three… Two…"
MOLLY"S FLAT
When the video came to an end, Molly hastily put on a cardigan, grabbed her bag and headed out the door.
221B BAKER ST
Molly burst through the door to the flat, in time to witness Sherlock, the doting Godfather handing Rosie over to John.
For anyone who cared to notice, and Molly definitely did, the traumatic events, starting with the death of Mary and culminating with the discovery of the existence of a psychopathic sister he had purposefully erased from his memory had had a profound effect upon the consulting detective and self-proclaimed high-functioning sociopath.
Through it all he'd learnt an invaluable lesion, sentiment was a strength, not a weakness.
Nevertheless when his eyes met hers, she read concern.
They had been forced to say 'I love you' to each other under the most unprecedented of circumstances. And yet they were words that could not be unsaid…
She smiled reassuringly, letting him know she knew and understood what he, John and Mycroft had been put through.
Sherlock returned her smile, and he made his way over to her, took her hand in his, and led her over to their precious Goddaughter.
Whatever their future held for them, Molly knew without a doubt, that they would face it together.