Slight Warning: Moran's still in the dark room, so slight psychological torture.

Chapter 25: Breaking Down

Sherlock paced the room and watched Isabella as she played with her toys. Every time he looked at her he thought of John and he was dragged into a room of his mind which his heart couldn't bear. He thought of Moriarty, free and happy. So sure he had won, if Sherlock got on the case again then Moriarty would be caught. Surely if he threw himself completely into the case he'd be able to catch the spider at the center of the web? Sherlock took Isabella downstairs to Mrs. Hudson's flat and told her that he needed her to watch Isabella for a few hours. If he just could catch Moriarty then everything would be better, he could raise Isabella without this terrible nagging feeling picking at the back of his head.

Mrs. Hudson agreed to watch Isabella, she didn't have the heart to turn him down such a simple request. She didn't ask where he was going, she wasn't sure she wanted to know. Sherlock hit the streets to try to gather as much information as he could, it was a nice change to get out of the house and be doing something productive. He tried to shove the thought that he could do most of this via phone or email out of his mind and relished the feeling of moving through the streets of London again.

Moran really didn't want to call out for anything, but he wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd seen or heard anything other than the small noises he made. He didn't want to call out, he wouldn't. "I need water." He scowled at himself; the only source of redemption was that he hadn't pleaded.

"I'm glad you didn't wait too long." Moriarty's soft voice soothed through the brightening darkness. Moran tried to keep his thoughts negative; Moriarty didn't look like an angel in the dim light, he wasn't glad that he answered his call. "I was worried that you'd wait until you died of dehydration." Moriarty held up a bottle of water, unscrewed the cap and brought it close to Moran's lips.

Moran scowled, "I can do that." He snatched the bottle from Moriarty's hands.

Moriarty frowned and nodded, "Of course you can." He looked genuinely hurt and Moran tried not to be bothered by it.

"Stop that." Moran said between long sips. God, the water tasted so good. Moriarty looked confused in the dim light. Moran rolled his eyes, "You know exactly what you're doing. Stop it, it's not going to work. I'm not going to break that easily."

Moriarty shook his head, "I'm sorry that you don't understand, I just wish there was something I could do to prove to you that I care for you-"

Moran interrupted Moriarty midsentence, "No, don't give me that bull shit. Stop it, get out. Go."

Moriarty stood and went to the door, nodded slowly once then spoke quietly, "We were fine until Agatha showed up. She's the one who turned you against me, this is all her fault."

Moran wanted to shake his head, he stopped himself from drinking all the water at once. He didn't want to waste any of it or have to go to the washroom too soon. The longer he could go without seeing Moriarty, the better.

Just as his eyes had readjusted to the darkness the picture of Agatha flashed on the wall again, burning his eyes. It had been this way for he couldn't tell how long. He lost count of how many times he had seen the picture of his smiling sister flashed up on the wall, how many times his eyes had burned from the light, how many times he had cursed her image for bringing him pain, for bringing him to this situation.

He closed his eyes and sighed. He could tell he was already breaking, he found himself starting to hate Agatha and he wanted to feel sorry for what he'd done, the position he put Moriarty in. He tried to turn the hate to Moriarty but found himself wondering why he was so determined to hate the man that had been so kind to him throughout his career. Moran always got the best jobs, the best pay, Moriarty never betrayed him until he betrayed Moriarty.

The last surviving bits of Moran wondered how long he would last before Moriarty succeeded in breaking him down and rebuilding him to his liking. The rest of him scolded himself for being so critical of Moriarty.

Sherlock returned home from a hard day of gathering information from his homeless network. He hadn't actually found any information. Sherlock was sure that the information was there, he just wasn't seeing it. His mind kept wandering to thoughts of John, and by the time he realized it he was already talking to someone else in some different location. He scolded himself and tried to pay more attention to his actions. He couldn't just wander around the streets of London like a blubbering fool asking if anyone's seen Moriarty.

Mrs. Hudson stopped him in the hall, "You've been out for two days! I've been getting worried that something's happened to you!" she chastised him, "I don't mind watching Isabella, but I can't watch her that long, Sherlock, I've got things to do!" Lestrade was standing just behind her with his hands on his hips.

Sherlock nodded, had he really been out for two days? He had been even less productive than he had thought.

"Where were you Sherlock?" Lestrade questioned.

Sherlock didn't want to answer, so instead he simply picked up Isabella in his arms and began carrying her upstairs to 221B, he didn't want to look at her. She just reminded him of his failure.

Isabella was trying to say something to him, he didn't catch it. He simply nodded in response and called Molly to see if she could look after Isabella for a while. Molly agreed and Sherlock packed some of Isabella's things and made his way downstairs. Lestrade tried to question him again and assure him that whatever he was going through that there were people who cared for him. Sherlock waved him off and said he was taking Isabella out for a bit.

Sherlock arrived at Molly's flat with Isabella and the bag of her stuff he had packed. Molly had barely opened the door when he started talking, "It's a long case so I might be away for a few days with little to no communication, would that be fine?"

"Er, yea, sure. No problem, I don't mind." Molly moved aside from the door to allow Sherlock and little Isabella entrance to the flat. Isabella looked sad, Molly hoped she could cheer her up a little. She figured she wouldn't be able to help much; losing a parent is tough, but she could try. Sherlock was out of the flat as quickly as he had entered it, Molly stood in slight shock at the abruptness of it all for a few moments before she turned to Isabella to offer her a cookie and asked if she wanted to play with the cats.

Sherlock had been gone for four days, four days without a word; a few is two or three, not four or more! Isabella was on the verge of tears; she was so convinced that Sherlock hated her. Molly had to cancel a reconciliation dinner with Tom to care for Isabella. Tom wasn't pleased when he found out why she had to cancel, instead the wall that had grown between them just increased in size.

Molly had to take Isabella to daycare, which she supposed she was thankful for; with Isabella at daycare she could go to work. Each day that passed Isabella became more and more convinced that Sherlock hated her. On the fifth day, a Saturday Molly tried to phone Sherlock. She tried to phone him several times, but each time there was no answer. She phoned a friend to come watch Isabella for her and went out searching for Sherlock.

It didn't take her long, she always heard about the homeless network and people were willing to help her out when she mentioned Isabella. They all remembered the significance of the name from when John had been alive. Everyone asked Molly if she could help Sherlock, they said that he seemed off somehow. Everyone was concerned.

Molly found him in some back alley talking to a rather unclean looking fellow. He was purchasing cocaine.

The darkness was getting to him, it was really getting to him. The picture of Agatha flashed on the wall, he cringed and jerked away; Moran hadn't called for Moriarty since he needed more water and had to use the washroom. The water was all gone now and Moran was sure he was going to go insane soon. "Jim!" He called into the darkness, "Jim please! Don't leave me alone in here anymore!" Tears began to slowly fill his eyes as he tried to control his breathing.

"Calm down; calm down, love." Moriarty's voice soothed through the slowly brightening darkness and he gently took Moran's hand in his own. "It's okay, I'm here. Don't worry about a thing." Slowly Moran's breathing began to return to normal and a tentative smile spread across his face. Moriarty smiled in return, "Oh sweetie, look at you. You've lost so much weight. Good thing I brought you some soup." He revealed a container of soup that he had hidden behind his back.

Moran smiled wider, "Thank you." He thought to himself of how considerate Moriarty was being and wondered how things had come to this. Moriarty brought the spoonful of soup up to Moran's mouth and Moran allowed Moriarty to feed him. There wasn't much soup so it didn't take long to finish; Moran was glad there wasn't too much soup, Moriarty had brought the perfect amount and Moran found himself satisfied but not uncomfortably full. It would take a few weeks of eating regular meals and getting regular exorcise before Moran's appetite returned to normal.

"Please let me come back, I'm so sorry for everything that happened." Moran practically pleaded.

Moriarty moved to behind the chair and fiddled slightly with the base of the pipe that held him in place, loosening both wires around his neck slightly. "There, is that better?"

Moran found himself able to nod; he still wouldn't be able to slip out of the wire but things were considerably more comfortable now. Moran was hopeful for the first time in he didn't know how long, "Can I come back?"

Moriarty shook his head slightly and Moran felt his heart breaking before Moriarty continued, "Not yet. You'll have to prove you're a good boy first."

Moran nodded enthusiastically, "I will, I will; I promise."

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes!" Molly called from the main road into the alley. Sherlock turned to see her and shrunk away into the shadows with shame. "You get out here right NOW!" Molly called to him with such assertiveness that she didn't even know she could muster.

Slowly Sherlock reappeared into the daylight and sulked forward to talk to Molly; the only words that came out were, "How do you know my full name?"

Molly didn't acknowledge his question, instead she asked one of her own, "What are you doing?"

Sherlock managed to cover his devastation with the mask of indifference as he spoke, "I believe you know what I'm doing."

"Buying drugs?" Molly was indignant.

Sherlock nodded and stepped back a few paces when Molly stepped forward. He didn't want to get slapped again.

"How dare you!"

Sherlock didn't want to listen to this, "It's my body. I'll do what I want with it." Internally Sherlock scolded himself; hardly a mature line of defense, but he hoped it would be adequate.

"It's not just you that you have to look after now though!" Molly refused to be deterred and plowed on through her short speech without allowing Sherlock to interrupt again, "You have Isabella, she relies on you! And right now, she's at my flat convinced that you're trying to give her away and that you hate her!"

Sherlock looked shocked, he looked as though he wanted to sit down but refused to do so, "She thinks that?"

"Yes." Molly didn't want to appear too sympathetic at the moment, she wanted Sherlock to listen to her and to do the right thing.

"I'm a terrible guardian."

Molly shook her head, "You're a wonderful father, but only when you're home. You can't be a good dad if you never see or talk to her." Sherlock looked up from the ground to her with what was almost a hopeful smile on his face. "You have to come home, take Isabella home. She needs you, you both just lost someone very important in your lives. You can't just abandon her right now."

Sherlock nodded and returned to Molly's flat with her to pick up Isabella and take her home. He apologized to her when he saw her and told her that he'd do better, he told her that he loves her very much. Molly wanted to ask why he was buying drugs, but decided that now probably wasn't the time. Molly hoped he hadn't actually taken any drugs when she found him.

A/N: One more chapter after this, hope you guys are still enjoying. Thanks for reading, the follows and the favorites. Don't forget to review! :D