"Beginning now, I swear on my baby's life that everything I am about to tell you is one hundred percent true." Lily gently caressed her husband's hair as he lay asleep beside her and she began telling her story to Sherlock. "The first thing I should mention is that I'm a fifth generation sociopath. My family contains a broad spectrum of criminals, vigilantes, spies, mercenaries, soldiers, genius scientists, philanthropists, journalists, you name it. By some miracle, we still remain a close family, despite our many differences, and they've all welcomed Jamie into the family, so if you ever think of harming my child or my husband, just remember my family, who would all be very pissed off."
"You seem to have all the protection in the world. What more could your child need?"
"As you've previously stated, you brother practically is the British government. I'd hate to see him declare war on my family because there would be bloodshed on both sides."
"You're afraid of my brother? I used to think so highly of you."
"Remember that this is the same brother who sold your life story to Britain's most dangerous criminal. The only person more heartless than Sherlock Holmes is his older brother Mycroft."
"So you've summoned me here to ask if I will keep your secrets from my brother? Well isn't that dandy?"
"Yes and no. Mycroft knows just the very basics of my family, but it's not like I haven't fooled your brother before."
At this, Sherlock seemed intrigued. Perhaps he simply enjoyed hearing when his brother made mistakes.
"When Mycroft was holding Jamie as his prisoner, I was there the whole time, acting as a prison guard. It was I who suggested that we negotiate with him, and I eventually convinced Mycroft to let him go." Lily explored her memories and told all of it to Sherlock.
Moriarty wanted to be caught my Mycroft Holmes. He knew it would involve torture, but he was prepared for that. As much as Lily protested, he insisted he would be fine.
Mycroft's men picked him up off the streets one night, put a bag over his head and shoved into the back of a van, but he knew there was nothing to worry about, not when his wife was the one driving the van. He sat in that cell for weeks, just staring at the mirror in font of him because he knew, at some point or another, Lily would be on the other side looking straight back at him. And then the boring people came to interrogate him. It only got a little interesting when Big Brother Holmes came in to talk to him. It didn't take much to get exactly what he wanted: Little Brother Holmes's life story.
Meanwhile, Lily had to watch as her husband was being beaten for information. It pained her, but she knew her husband was strong, and she went to him and put ice on his bruises when no one was looking. Finally, she was able to talk Mycroft into speaking Jamie himself, and he was released within a week. Just a few words she planted into Mycroft's head. She was very good at persuasion.
"By the way, Kitty Riley is my cousin: investigative journalist and a very convincing actress. And before you ask, no 'Kitty Riley' isn't really her name. She had fun making everyone believe the lies after what you said to her during the court case."
That was one thing Sherlock had never expected. So Kitty Riley wasn't lying when she said she was smart.
"So now do you understand how my husband became so powerful? How it was so easy to make you fall? How easy it was to infiltrate the Tower of London, the Bank of England, and Pentonville Prison all at the same time?"
"Yes, but why?"
"Your not a very good listener sometimes. He told you himself. He needed a distraction, and you are just so much fun to play with."
"A game that involves putting people's lives in danger?"
"Oh stop pretending that's what you care about."
"I'm still waiting to find out why I should do anything to help you two. And spare me the 'innocent child' talk. There's a probable chance that the baby will turn out just like you."
"And I would be a proud mother, but that's beside the point. I want you to know that you were never in any real danger when you were, um, playing the game."
"You either think I'm a total imbecile or you're a total imbecile."
"That's the truth. Jamie never wanted to hurt you, he just wanted to see if you were clever enough to get yourself out deep trouble."
"I had to fake my death so he wouldn't kill my friends."
"So the Great Sherlock Holmes does have friends. Stop the presses. But really, Jamie was never going to actually kill your friends, he just wanted to see how far you'd go to protect them. He didn't want you to kill yourself either. He wanted to see if you could find a way out of it. You didn't disappoint. If you'd actually killed yourself, he'd be painfully bored."
"Well I'm glad I can be of some amusement to you," he said with a sarcastic bite.
But Reichenbach was a fairly painful topic for Lily, as she thought she had lost her husband that day...
2012
Jamie should be home by now thought Lily. The Final Problem was coming to and end, but it had been fun. She was anxious to find out how Sherlock would pull off this last trick. She would give Jamie another hour before she began to worry.
Finally, she decided it was time to take matters into her own hands. She got on her coat and drove down the streets without any idea of where to start looking for her husband.
She walked into a little restaurant where there were televisions displaying the afternoon news. She went to get a closer look.
The headline read "Fake Genius Commits Suicide" So Jamie has actually done it, she thought. He really drove Sherlock to suicide. But Lily knew better. Only time will tell if Sherlock is really dead, or if this is just another one of his brilliant tricks.
And then she read the subhead: "Made-up villain Moriarty also found dead on rooftop in apparent suicide"
Lily nearly collapsed in shock. It was like everything instantly became heavier. Gravity intensified on her sinking heart. A few bystanders grabbed her arms to keep her from falling.
"Miss, are you okay?"
As she became aware of the man standing next to her, she answered, "Yes, I'm fine thank you."
"I know, it's a shock hearing that the Great Sherlock Holmes is dead. You're not the only one who's taking it so hard." He gestured to a couple of young ladies sitting in the back corner of the restaurant who looked to be in tears.
"Of course Sherlock gets the headline," mumbled Lily under her breath. This wasn't part of the plan. Jamie wouldn't just kill himself and leave her. Lily knew her husband was quite unpredictable, but he thoroughly explained to her every possible outcome of the rooftop encounter before he left to meet Sherlock there. None of them had resulted in his death, so something must've come up that wasn't part of the plan. She mentally went through all of the most likely possibilities.
1. Sherlock killed Jamie. No, that wasn't very like Sherlock. Possibility one eliminated.
2. Someone's body was mistaken for Jamie's, and the press just wanted to get the story out quickly without checking all of the facts. Plausible, there were some real morons in the police department and the media, but she'd be surprised if they were stupid enough to completely mix up one body with another.
3. Jamie faked his death. More likely, however, if that was true, wouldn't he have contacted her by now?
4. Someone else faked Jamie's death in order to kidnap him so he wouldn't be missed. Less likely, since that didn't seem to be Sherlock's or Mycroft's style and she didn't know of anyone else who would want to or be able to harm her husband.
She knew just where to look for Jamie next. She drove through several red lights as she made her way to St. Bartholomew's Hospital.
She marched right into the hospital and stopped a sweet-looking young lady to ask if she knew anything about Moriarty. "Is it true that's he's dead? Are he and Sherlock really dead?"
The woman replied, "I'm sorry there are just too many rumors going around right now for me to give you any good answers." And she smiled nervously and began to walk away.
Lily grabbed her arm so she couldn't leave. She pretended that she didn't know this woman was Molly Hooper, known companion of Sherlock Holmes. Lily knew Jamie underestimated the bond between Molly and Sherlock. "Why are you avoiding my question. I heard on the news that it happened right here at this hospital. You must've seen something or known something. Now tell me, was the body of James Moriarty brought inside this hospital?" She fixed her gaze on Molly Hooper.
Molly gave in. "Yes. I saw the bodies myself."
Lily put on a believable smile. "Thank, you dear." And she walked out of the hospital.
Three thoughts then crossed her mind: Molly Hooper is lying as part of a cover-up story. This was very possible, since she had been shaking slightly as she spoke, a good sign of a lie. Or, she was shaken up from the day's events and really had seen the bodies. Or, there was a cover-up story of which Molly Hooper was unaware. No matter which way, Lily would need to sneak into the morgue to see if her husband was there.
After calling Jamie several times with no answer, she made a quick stop home to get her nurse's disguise. When she went back to the hospital, it wasn't difficult to bump into someone, distracting that nurse long enough to steal a key to the morgue. She made sure no one was watching when she snuck inside. She checked everywhere for Jamie. She half expected him to jump out of nowhere and surprise her. Her fantasies were running wild with ideas of where he could be. No body here was that of James Moriarty. This was both good news and bad news. He wasn't dead here, so her was either dead or alive somewhere else. She would have to keep on looking.
After driving to every place in London where she though she might find Jamie (three times) and making eight frantic phone calls to him without reply, she decided to check if he was at home.
By nighttime, she was in full panic. She was calling him every ten minutes, clinging desperately to the hope that he would pick up the phone and she would hear his voice again.
"Jamie, where are you? Can you hear me? Are you in danger? Please just call me or text me or anything. Just please let me know you're safe. I love you." She must've left dozens of messages on his phone. She spent the next amount of time, which was unmeasurable to Lily, examining a thousand different possibilities of where Jamie could be, dead or alive. And suddenly, she had an idea. She was going to pay a visit to Baker Street.
Lily picked the lock on her way into 221b Baker Street, quietly, to not arouse alarm from the old landlady who resided there. On her way up the stairs, she stepped carefully so the steps wouldn't creak. Into the sitting room she went, where Dr. Watson was sitting, staring out a dirty window. His back was turned to her, and she wondered if he was asleep since he didn't seem to hear her entering. What an unpleasant surprise he would wake to. She crept slowly closer and closer, took her knife out of its sheath and quickly put it to Dr. Watson's throat. He was indeed awake, but gave an unalarmed reaction. This was unnatural with someone with reflexes a fast as his, she was at least expecting him to jerk a little in surprise, but he only remained in his seat, like he had lost his ability or will to fight.
"What happened to James Moriarty?" she asked threateningly.
"He died," said Watson emotionlessly, "He blew his own brains out."
"If you're lying, I promise you will live long enough to hear your dear old landlady beg for death."
"It's true!" shouted Watson with more emotion. "I saw the body, couldn't get a pulse!"
"If it's true, then where is his body?"
"In the morgue at St. Bartholomew's."
"That's funny, because when I check the morgue, there wasn't a body of James Moriarty anywhere."
"Then someone must've moved it."
"Who? Who would move his body?"
"I don't know! Maybe the police took him so they could do another autopsy. I've told you everything I know. Don't harm Mrs. Hudson."
"I won't." And then she covered John Watson's face with chloroform until he was unconscious.
Back to square one.