"Molly! Wait...don't..."

"Don't what? Storm in there? Yell at her? Upset her? I don't care if she's a genius killing machine. If she wanted me dead, I'd be dead, now, wouldn't I?"

Sherlock sighs exasperatedly and gently grasps her arm, turning her around once their feet hit sand. "Look...as much as you get the upper hand with me, despite knowing how stubborn /I/ am, Eurus is totally different. She doesn't care. Not about a single thing. Your upset most likely won't phase her, and if anything it will /amuse/ her. So you can't go storming in there like a hurricane. You have to just…be even-keeled. I know how upset you are at the betrayal, but I promise you it will do no good to barge in and start trying to get her to argue."

Molly sets her jaw and pulls her arm away, crossing it with her other one over her chest. "I know, okay? I'm just..."

"Deceived. I know...I'm sorry. I'm sorry that she got to you and I didn't even know anything about it. I'm supposed to keep you safe. You and the rest of our friends and I had no idea she was even close to you, and that should not have happened. Molly, I won't let that happen again."

"It wasn't your fault. I never told you because I wanted something good for myself. I wanted a friendship and a friend I could trust as much as Meena that lives in London. I was childish and naive to think that anyone would think my life or my career was basis for a friendship. I was played like a fool and I feel completely and utterly stupid."

Sherlock tenderly cups her face. "You are not stupid, Molly. In fact, you are the least stupid person out of everyone I know. And I know a lot of people so that's saying something. Eurus fooled all of us. John, Mycroft, myself. Not just you."

"I know that, Sherlock. I'm just so frustrated with her. After what she did to you and John and Mycroft? And then what she did to us both? I know you're her brother and she needs help, but how are you not angrier?"

"I am angry. I'm furious, even still. But letting her know that will only cause her to lash out again because she wants reactions like that. They fuel her. So staying calm and even and steady is what keeps her that way. It's best."

Molly huffs softly and leans against his chest for a moment. "Alright. I trust you to know her better. I don't want her to lash out again, I don't want anyone else to get hurt. But I do want some answers from her. Let's go."

He nods and squeezes her shoulder encouragingly, leading them into Sherrinford and using his newfound security badge. "It's not a cheery place, Molly. So be aware of your surroundings, as I will, but don't look too far into things. Demons beneath the road and all that."

"Right…Mycroft's spiel. He told me how many horrors this place contains", she shudders.

"Yes, but you are safe as long as you stay with me."

She smiles a bit, softly. "Of course I am." Molly leans up and kisses him as the elevator doors close. Sherlock pulls her close and kisses her back, pulling away from her as the elevator comes to a halt. They walk down the long corridor to Eurus' cell, greeting the ramrod stiff guards, earbuds in place to avoid hours upon hours of Eurus' violin playing. They look over at him and nod politely, allowing him to scan his badge and enter yet another elevator, Molly in tow.

"We are entering Eurus' room, so approach her like you would, say, a rabid animal. Very cautiously. Keep three feet from the glass, I wouldn't want her reprogramming you. You're perfect as you are. I'd rather her not turn you into a killing maniac, or anything else."

"Oh and I suppose you keep three feet from the glass, hm?"

"I'm...different. For some reason, I'm the one person Eurus has pegged as trustworthy and decent to speak with or communicate with safely without threat. She knows if she ever tried anything I'd be more than apt to forget her again."

"True..."

The elevator slows to a stop and opens. Sherlock walks in slowly, clutching his violin case in his left hand and searching for the fabric of Molly's cardigan with his right, the eerie lights and essence of the cell making him suddenly more protective of her.

Molly moves around his searching hand, her eyes falling on a figure sitting still as stone upon a bed of the same nature. Her dark waves adorn the frame of her face, a few stray pieces hanging like a waterfall down her cheek, covering her expression. Sherlock walks up to the glass and sets his violin case down quietly.

Sherlock sees his sister's all too familiar smirk make its way across her lips. Mechanically getting up and turning to them, she tilts her head, still smirking, mirroring the way that Jim Moriarty did when he believed he had the upper hand or was being particularly evil. It sends a chill down his back, but he doesn't make a single move. He notices that Molly flinches ever so slightly at the resemblance of stance as well.

With slow, methodical steps, Eurus makes her way over to the glass and stands before him in her stark white uniform, just as she had that fateful day. Her eyes sparkle with anticipation and he wonders for a moment if she will speak for the first time since then. Unfortunately, he didn't have to wait very long for that answer.

Glancing at Molly she begins to speak. "Come to thank me?"

Molly clenches her jaw then takes a deep breath. "Thank you? For manipulating me? Deceiving me? Being just another person that I ended up not being able to trust?"

Eurus goes to speak again, and Molly shakes a finger at her. "No. I'm speaking. I'm damn sick of you Holmes's thinking you can do whatever the hell you want and say whatever you want, and it'll miraculously be okay with me eventually because I'm a push-over. I'm not. I'll have you know that I can handle you. You're not that scary, and I'm not going to be another person who walks on eggshells in your presence. I'm just not. Because you may think you had gotten the upper hand, but really, I do. I saw firsthand what you're made of and what you can do. I also know that you were perfectly comfortable speaking with me, and it wasn't just acting. I know it wasn't just acting. Dr. Eileen wasn't just another alias or deception. You enjoyed being friends with me for more than a plan, Eurus Holmes. I could see it. I could feel it. I know I have a bad history of being a terrible judge of character, but because of that my guard is up all of the time. Sometimes I can't even sleep, much like you I'd imagine, because my brain won't stop. So I won't allow you to stand there and act like a robot because I saw a real and TRUE side of you that I assume you never show anyone, even your dear brother right here, because like both your brothers you are terrified to be weak. So yes, you can stand there and pretend and act like a machine, but despite your gigantic mind and your cold exterior, there is one thing you cannot deny. You are still a human being. Flaws or no, crimes or no. I can tell you that you are not the coldest person on Earth with one hundred percent certainty, despite what you want everyone else to think of you. Do you know how I know this? Because you're capable of fear. Real, true, fear. You didn't allow Sherlock to kill himself because you were scared of losing him for more then just being denied the thrill of the Redbeard reveal. There is undeniably a part of you that does feel, Eurus Holmes. Sherlock has seen it too. Things get overwhelming. Even the strongest, toughest, coldest, and most resilient humans on earth cry and break down at their lowest. You cannot contain all of that forever and ever. You just can't. The result for you was hurting people you do care about because you didn't know an acceptable action aside from lashing out. You've been stuck here forever since you were basically a baby. So don't you see? You are not as tough and intimidating as you want to be. You /liked/ being my friend. If you had told me who you were, or that you needed help, maybe I could've helped you, instead of all the hurt and loss and evil things you did just to accomplish a simple goal of having Sherlock remember you, or of testing him. I know that you've wanted friends, and being in solitary has probably done so much more damage; Mycroft and your late uncle did not handle it correctly. You should have been taught and should have had therapy. If I am being brutally honest, I don't blame you for lashing out at society and at your family, Mycroft for putting you here, and Sherlock for forgetting you. But that is the past now, and you have a chance to be better. You are wasting your mind being evil when you have untapped and unlimited potential. We could have been real friends."

"You missed the obvious...as I assumed you would", she quips. "See, I killed two birds with one stone. Got revenge on my brother for choosing Victor over me and thanked you for being a…friend."

"Thanked me? When?"

"I am glad that Sherlock and I could discuss what happened that night and that it turned out alright. But it wasn't easy, and the way you went about it was wrong and hurtful. Also, you /were/, Eurus. You /were/ a woman scorned. Sherlock has made every effort to make up for lost time with you. It wasn't his fault that he forgot about you anyway. Technically it was yours."

"He had to hurt in order to see what he had been looking past and avoiding for years..." she murmurs, staring right at him. She then turns back to Molly. "My fault?", she quirks her head, actually baffled as to why it would be her fault that he forgot about her.

"Yes. You killed his best friend. He was a little child. You caused him so much trauma that he blocked it out, along with your memory, because he equated the sight of you to pain and loss and heartbreak."

"With Mycroft's help no doubt."

"Well, yes. But it was your actions that caused the spiral. I know you were a child too, and like I said you needed help and guidance. Not people who feared you. They should not have let it get that far. But as common or stupid as you see them, they are your parents, and they love you. They always have, even if they got it wrong back then. But you got it wrong too. Everyone involved did."

Sherlock wraps an arm protectively around Molly's waist. "She's right you know. She may not be as brilliant as you, but she's a very intelligent woman, with loads of insight."

Molly smiles softly and Eurus smiles slightly. "Possibly in the near future, we can start again. I assume like most meager humans, you'll need time to get over the deception."

"No. I'm putting it in the past as best as I can. Eurus, I want to talk to Mycroft and your parents. I haven't even told Sherlock this. But there is a psychiatric study that recently came out that directly links many geniuses to mood disorders such as manic depression and bipolar. I think you may have one or both, and if we can get a specialist in here that is experienced with dealing with large minds, you could make progress and maybe…/maybe/, one day, be allowed to try to reintegrate into society. However that requires a gigantic commitment from you to behave, not to manipulate or reprogram your therapist, and of course, hold back any bad…murdery urges you get. You also can't pretend or act like it's helping if you know it isn't. You need to promise to openly communicate with myself and Sherlock about what you need or feel. Regardless of how difficult. No pretending. But if the sessions are closely monitored...I think maybe it could help you. It may be thirty years too late, but it's better late than never, right?"

For the first time since Sherlock had known his sister (again), she actually looks extremely unsure of herself and even, dare he say, touched and emotional at the thought. He knows that her actions were a cry for help, but Mycroft is so lost in the emotional department, and he knows he is only slightly better. But Molly is his, and apparently, Eurus' savior when it comes to learning to feel correctly.

Eurus tears up a bit, too shocked to speak, but nods sharply. She walks back to her stone bed and resumes the sitting position she was in when they arrived, slipping again, but voluntarily, into a mute state. Little did they know that it was because her gigantic mind couldn't think of even a single word to say. Molly Hooper, her brother's love and keeper, had more insight into her own actions than even she did, which left her utterly and truly speechless.