There were a few points where you simply had to ask 'how did I get here?' There are a lot of reasons why you asked yourself that. It helps you remember the key points in your past. The circumstances of life that sent you spiraling.
Sometimes you'll be happy, with a smile that strains your cheeks and stars in your eyes. Your steps will turn into skips. Each happy memory brings a giggle out of you.
Sometimes you'll be angry. Your fists curl up. Your face scrunches up, as if to hide itself from what's happening. Little moments flash in your eyes, things that didn't make sense before now in crystal clear/surround sound. There's that rushing noise in your ears as blood pumps into them. All you can feel is fire raging under your skin.
The worst is when you're heartbroken. Your feet are like concrete bricks, each step weighing on you. Memories come out as tears on your cheeks, staining shirts or falling to the ground in a hurricane. Your words can't explain it. Your mind can't make itself connect. The part that makes it hurt most is that you usually know how you came there.
Danielle knew how she came to this point. She knew why there was an ache deep inside her bones as she walked into that pool. She knew why the smell of chlorine didn't fill her with the calmness it usually did.
Now the smell was a betrayal. How dare this place bring happy memories? How dare Danielle want to smile as she remembered learning to swim with her siblings, when she was dressed with a bomb on her chest?
Except she didn't learn with her siblings, did she? It was because of that lost sibling, because of this exact pool, because of her mother's lies that Danielle never knew the truth about her siblings.
Because of her brother she was more scared than she had ever been in her life.
Tears burned in her usually bright blue eyes. She refused to let them fall. Refused to let her brother see how hurt she was. Sherlock may not think so, but he was one of Danielle's heroes.
Him and John, the boys of Baker Street.
She was hidden in the stalls. She wished she could see those boys now, reach out to let them know she was there. She needed to know that she wasn't alone. At least when General Shan happened she could see John, hear John, know John was there. The young landlady didn't have that here.
Horrible as it was, Danielle saw the purpose. She was isolated. Better that she be psychologically tortured before her end. Unlike the others, she had seen Moriarty's face. She would be killed by the time the night ended. The bomb on her chest would make sure of that, along with the heavy coat Moriarty wrapped around her to make it more cumbersome to get the bomb off. Because she wore her favorite loafers she couldn't even run.
She wasn't a soldier. She wasn't a consulting detective. She wasn't a Nolan apparently.
She was just Danielle Nolan...or was it Danielle Moriarty? Her heart hurt just thinking about it.
"Showtime, Danny!" Moriarty's overly cheerful voice spiked in her ear.
Danielle took a deep calming breath. Sherlock and John were here. Sherlock and John would see what was wrong. Sherlock better see it or else Danielle would hit him so hard his curls would go straight!
From behind her, the door to the pool opened. Danielle's body locked up.
The familiar sound of suede shoes and men's boots echoed. Her previously racing heart slowed, her shoulders relaxed. She knew those sounds- knew the people in those steps.
Get me out of here, she begged.
Please save me.
I need you both to save me.
Their steps were slow. Sherlock's shoes had a distinct sound to them, along with John's sure firm steps.
"You didn't have to follow." Sherlock remarked.
"You could've actually bought milk." John countered.
Danielle wanted to laugh. Instead she buried a sob. Moriarty hushed her again, long and low.
"Brought you a little getting-to-know-you present." A pause so tense Danielle could feel the little hairs on her hand stick up in anticipation. "Oh, that's what it's all been for, hasn't it? All your little puzzles; making me dance-all to distract me from this."
"Sherlock. This isn't funny." Jon's words echoed around the pool. Danielle wanted to see more,
"Don't be rude, sis, didn't your mother raise you better?" Moriarty scolded. "Go say hello to Sherlock and his little pet. Exactly as I say. I don't need to remind you what happens if you don't."
Danielle pushed herself to her feet. She tried over and over to make her hands stop shaking. The bomb weighed down her steps. Her loafers kept wanting to slip on the water.
With a held back shout of (totally justified and most certainly not childish) rage, Danielle stepped out from her stall.
"Show time! Say evening!"
She wanted to scream at him. "Evening."
"This is a turn-up, isn't it, Sherlock?"
"This is a turn-up, isn't it, Sherlock?" Danielle spoke as Moriarty ordered.
Her heart burst out of her chest when she saw Sherlock and John. The consulting detective looked broken. His kaleidoscope eyes shifted from her to John. There was a flash drive in his hands, the one he was supposed to give to Mycroft.
He hadn't given it back. She felt like it should have been obvious. Mycroft knighting his little brother? Not for anything, Danielle doubted they even played games like that as children.
Sherlock kept that memory stick as a gift for Danielle's brother.
The man who blew up his flat.
The man who killed Carl Powers.
The man who strapped her old classmates into bomb vests.
The man who wormed his way into her life.
Danielle wanted to show some emotion, instead staring at Sherlock and John with a blankness that made her feel empty.
Sherlock gawked. "Danielle. What the hell...?"
"What are you doing?" John asked, brows knit in confusion.
"Bet you never saw this coming!" Moriarty laughed.
"Bet you never saw this coming." Danielle recited. She swallowed, fighting back an urge to sob or cry. She fought back her tears.
"Pull back the curtain!" Moriarty ordered.
She let her curtain fall. She let Sherlock and John see the tears in her eyes, let them see the bombs hiding under her coat, let them see her.
"Jesus." John gasped.
"What would you like me to make her say next?"
Danielle gulped, her hands shaking. She looked down to make sure the bomb hadn't been hit by that. To her horror she spotted a small red dot dancing on her chest. "W-What-What would you like me to m-make her say next?"
She looked up at them. John's face was set in a firm line, like a soldier marching into battle. A bravery that Danielle didn't feel right now. Sherlock looked up at the upper level, trying to find where the shot was coming from.
"Gottle o'gear." Moriarty giggled.
"Gottle o' g-geer." Danielle's lip wobbled as she spoke. Moriarty repeated himself, speaking with a lyrical tone. The kind one would use to sing a nursery rhyme. "Got-Gottle o' geer. Got-Got-Gottle o' geer."
Danielle sobbed. She pulled herself together. If she fell, if she stopped, god she would kill them all.
She couldn't hold on for much longer.
"Stop it." Sherlock hissed.
Moriarty started monologuing. Danielle sniffled, pulling herself together to speak.
"Ni-Nice touch, this: the pool where lit-little C-Carl died. I stopped him, like s-she as-asked me t-to." Danielle sniffled again, shuddering in terror as Moriarty kept on. "I can stop John Watson too...?" Danielle looked over at John, confused. Danielle gasped when she saw a tiny red light on his chest. "Stop- Stop his heart."
Sherlock and John checked. They spotted the red dot on John's chest. John locked in place, keeping himself from startling the assassin. Sherlock's eyes widened, looking between John and Danielle with rising panic.
Danielle herself was finding it harder to breathe.
Moriarty was gonna kill John.
Moriarty was gonna kill John!
Danielle's friend, Jim would just kill him. Phrasing it like Danielle had asked Moriarty to do it- she hadn't, she swore she hadn't! Oh god if Moriarty killed John and made Sherlock watch, Danielle might as well be blown up.
The strawberry blonde was startled when Moriarty made her speak. "Stopping Danielle would be difficult." She recited. The threat on her friends emboldened her. Blow her up, not her friends. Not Sherlock, not John. "But not impossible. Can you see the tears, Sherlock? She's been crying for hours now."
Sherlock's face hardened. He whirled around, trying to spot people above or behind or from wherever these dots came from. "Who are you?"
"I gave you my number." Moriarty replied.
It was a relief when he started talking, Danielle thought oddly. It meant the voice wouldn't be in her ear.
"I thought you might call."
Sherlock turned around. He glared behind Danielle's shoulder. Danielle swallowed, desperate for this all to end already.
"Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket..." Morarity teased. Sherlock reached towards his pocket. John rolled his eyes, making a face of annoyance. Picked his pocket, Danielle reasoned. "...or are you just pleased to see me?"
Sherlock brought out the gun. "Both."
"Jim Moriarty. Hi!"
Sherlock said nothing.
"Jim? Jim from the hospital? Renting out Danielle's flat?" Moriarty reminded him.
Sherlock stayed silent.
"Oh. Did I really make such a fleeting impression?" Moriarty asked. "But then, I suppose, that was rather the point."
Sherlock glanced at Danielle. Danielle could only frown. She looked back at John. His expression hadn't changed from a set in frown and anger. When she saw Sherlock, he was focused on Moriarty again.
Danielle's heart hammered.
"Don't be silly. Someone else is holding the rifles." Moriarty explained. "I don't like getting my hands dirty. I've given you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I've got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see...like you!"
"'Dear Jim. Please will you fix it for me to get rid of my lover's nasty sister?'" Sherlock remarked. The gun unwavering in his hands. "'Dear Jim. Please will you fix it for me to disappear to South America?'"
Getting Sherlock into crap telly was the worst idea.
"Just so." Moriarty replied.
His voice was coming closer. Danielle hated it. She didn't want him around her. She preferred if Morarity stayed back in the backroom before.
"Consulting criminal." Sherlock reasoned. "Brilliant."
"Isn't it?" Moriarty asked. Danielle held back a shudder. "No-one ever gets to me – and no-one ever will."
The pistol clicked. Danielel couldn't be arsed for proper terms right now. "I did."
"You've come the closest. Now you're in my way." Moriarty taunted.
"Thank you." Sherlock replied.
"Didn't mean it as a compliment."
"Yes you did."
Moriarty smiled. "Yeah, okay, I did. But the flirting's over, Sherlock. Daddy's had enough now!"
His footsteps were louder than before. Danielle saw John's shoulders tense. His blue eyed glare sharpened, narrowing on the spot beyond Danielle's shoulder.
"I've shown you what I can do." Moriarty came closer. Danielle winced, warm tears falling down her face again. "I cut loose all those people, all those little problems, even thirty million quid just to get you to come out and play. So take this as a friendly warning, my dear. Back off. Although I have loved this – this little game of ours. Playing Jim from I.T. Playing gay tenant. Did you like the little touch with the underwear?"
"People have died." Sherlock countered.
"That's what people DO!"
Danielle yelped. She was barely able to hold down the urge to jump. She kept her eyes shut tight, not willing to see anything. Not to see Sherlock or John's reactions to her being a whimpering coward again.
"I will stop you." Sherlock promised in a low, dangerous whisper.
"No you won't." Moriarty taunted.
"You all right?" Sherlock asked.
Silence reigned in the pool.
He walked closer. He stood right behind her back. "You too, Danny. You can talk, Johnny-boy. Go ahead." The words crawled up Danielle's body like spiders.
Danielle couldn't get any words out.
Neither could John, by the continued silence.
Danielle wanted to smack Moriarty. Wanted to hurt him. She hated herself for thinking it, but she wanted him hurt like she'd been hurt. Moriarty put her friends in danger. Danielle wanted to hurt him worse.
"Take it." Sherlock ordered.
"Huh? Oh! That!"
Moriarty walked around Danielle. She squinted open, watching Moriarty reach for the flashdrive. "The missile plans!"
This man- Danielle raged -is a monster
"Boring!" Moriarty taunted in a sing-song voice. "I could have got them anywhere." He threw the memory stick in the pool.
Oh now that's an idea.
Danielle would later admit to not knowing what she was thinking. Or rather, she knew what she was thinking but didn't think they would accept her reasons for it. She just saw Moriarty toss in the memory stick, and acted. Maybe it was the frustration of the entire past month of Moriarty living in her flats. Or maybe what Moriarty did to her new friends, and her old bullies. All the bullshit that took place in the past hour could've just sent her over the edge.
She jumped.
Her shoe slipped, making it easier for her to cling to Moriarty. Danielle felt the bomb jostle with her. She hugged tight to Moriarty. The madman just laughed at her.
"Good! Very good." Moriarty mocked her, practically cackling.
"Shut up!" Danielle hissed. "Just- shut up!"
"Danielle!" John called out. "Stop it! Get away!"
"No!" Danielle yelled. "Do you know what he's done?!"
Look at your chest, John, look at the bright red light.
Remember the people on the phone, that little boy? Remember them? Moriarty chose them because of me. Because Moriarty thought it would be funny to hurt them
He thought killing Carl was funny too. Like a game between children with real world consequences
Moriarty touched my dog and my cat
The tosser needs to fucking die
"Let them take us out!" Danielle decided. As much as she hated to admit it, it was her words that got him to kill Carl Powers. Just a fucking bully- Danielle hadn't wanted him dead but Moriarty did it anyway. Well turnabout is fair play. "Let your snipers do their worst, Jim!"
Moriarty kept on laughing.
"Oh that's just so sweet of you, Danny." Moriarty teased. "Getting so sentimental about your pets."
Danielle tightened her arms around Moriarty.
"Sherlock, I understand. He's clever. Johnny not so much." Moriarty replied. "They're so touchingly loyal. But, oops!" Moriarty tilted his head back to smile at her. It chilled Danielle's stomach with fury. "You've rather shown your hand there, sis."
Daneille was confused.
As always when confused, she looked to Sherlock.
A red dot shined on his forehead.
Danielle froze.
"Gotcha!" Moriarty taunted.
John looked too, the devastation on his face probably matching Danielle's. Sherlock closed his eyes, letting out a small sigh. He kept the gun level at Moriarty's head.
Nononono don't kill them
Please no please-
Just leave them alone
Can't this just be between you and me, like it was always supposed to be?
Danielle's arms tightened.
Moriarty laughed again. He reached up, tapping his hand on her arm. "Go ahead. I'll wait. We've got all night!"
He's going to kill us anyway.
Danielle knew that with a confidence she didn't know she had.
She looked at her boys again. Both of them were glaring at Moriarty like if his head could explode with killing Danielle, they would let it happen. But when they saw Danielle looking, Sherlock kept his gun pointed at Moriarty's head. John shook his head.
Their expressions naked and open. For once Danielle saw them in the way Sherlock always did. Their thoughts so easily stamped across their faces. John had always been easy. Sherlock was like the mysteries he loved solving.
"Don't do it." John silently asked.
Danielle shook her head, gutted by the two red dots on their heads.
"Danielle. Please." John asked.
When she looked at Sherlock, he asked the same.
Tears streaming anew, Danielle backed off from Moriarty.
The man claiming to be her brother laughed. He straightened his coat. "Westwood!" He remarked. "D'you know what happens if you don't leave me alone, Sherlock, to you?"
"Oh, let me guess: I get killed." Sherlock remarked dryly.
"Kill you?" Moriarty repeated. "N-no, don't be obvious. I mean, I'm gonna kill you anyway some day. I don't wanna rush it, though. I'm saving it up for something special. No-no-no-no-no. If you don't stop prying, I'll burn you." He walked closer. "I'll burn the heart out of you."
"I have been reliably informed that I don't have one." Sherlock replied.
Moriarty hummed, tilting his head. "But we both know that's not quite true." He taunted.
Sherlock's face twitched. A small thing. Danielle barely noticed it through the hot tears.
"Well, I'd better be off. Well, so nice to have a proper chat." Moriarty turned. He reached up for Danielle. His fingers brushed her cheek. Danielle flinched from it. The bomb jacket jostled again, warningly. Moriarty smiled, delighted. "I'll be seeing you around."
Danielle hoped he would burn in hell.
"What if I was to shoot you now. Right now?" Sherlock challenged.
Danielle paused. Moriarty replied without missing a beat. "Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face." He made a face, showing it to Danielle before revealing it to Sherlock. A wide eyed, open mouthed surprise that looked as realistic as a cartoon pig flying. "'Cause I'd be surprised, Sherlock; really I would. And just a teensy bit disappointed. And of course you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long."
Moriarty turned on his feet. Danielle kept her feet rooted to the ground. Moriarty just winked at her. "Ciao, Sherlock Holmes."
Then he walked past her. Danielle took a deep, shuddering breath. Then another. Then another again.
"Catch...you...later." Sherlock spoke in a tight, clipped tone. Not even pretending to be polite or nonchalant.
"No you won't!" Moriarty sang.
Danielle heard a door close. She looked at the two. Sherlock and John stayed frozen after the door closed.
They waited.
They all just...waited.
The red dots vanished.
All at once, the two of them moved forward. Sherlock got to her first, tossing the gun back to John. As John caught it and un-clicked the gun, Sherlock fell to his knees in front of her. He started unzipping the vest.
Danielle let out a loud sob.
"All right?" Sherlock asked.
She wanted to cry. She wanted to cry loudly, and then scream out all this pent up rage. But Danielle also felt so tired-
"Are you all right?" Sherlock repeated.
"No." Danielle shook her head, crying again.
Sherlock got the vest unzipped. He started pulling it off Danielle. Danielle loosened up her arms- realizing just now how tense she'd been for hours now.
"Anything broken, or hurt?" John asked.
She wanted to explain what happened. How she'd ended up with a bomb on her chest, how she'd stupidly been tricked by Moriarty. All that came out was "He had Erika." Danielle told them, early murmuring through tears.
"Danielle! Are you alright?" John pressed.
"Ye-yeah. I'm okay." Danielle tearfully nodded.
Sherlock finally got the jacket off.
"Sherlock?" Danielle asked. She wanted to hear him talk. Hear either of them talk. Or joke. Or promise her that it was time to go home.
Sherlock said nothing. He tossed the jacket up the pool.
"Sh-Sherlock!" Danielle stuttered. With the coat gone, Danielle could finally wrap her arms around herself.
Sherlock, again, didn't answer.
Danielle's legs gave out.
"Jesus!" John barely managed to catch her. He helped Danielle to the floor, letting her lean against one of the poles.
Danielle pressed herself against the chilled metal. It was slightly damp still, from when the pool had been active. The water seeped through her clothes, hitting her skin. Danielle didn't care. She was just happy the bomb was gone.
John's hands stayed around her too. Sherlock dashed off, taking the gun back and running off the way Moriarty went.
"Are you okay?" John asked her.
"No." Danielle answered. "I'm tired."
"Got it, got it, yeah, that'll be the shock." John assured her. Danielle didn't care that there was a name for what she was feeling. She wanted to sleep. Also if this was shock, where was the fucking shock blanket?
Their consulting detective returned. Panting heavily, waving the gun around in his annoyance.
"Sherlock? You okay?" John asked.
Sherlock whirled around again. He raised the gun, using it to scratch his head. "Me? Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Fine." Sherlock swallowed, panting breathlessly. "That, er...thing that you, er, that you did-that, um..." He cleared his throat. He again used the gun to scratch his head. "...you offered to do. That was, um...good."
Danielle struggled to think beyond the next two seconds. Forget about remembering the past five minutes.
"It was…really brave." John added. "Also really stupid."
Danielle laughed. She believed that. "You brought a gun to a bomb fight."
Sherlock laughed too. "Yeah. Could-Could've been smarter about that."
John leaned against the stall, setting himself just beside Danielle. "I'm glad no-one saw that."
"Hmm?" Sherlock hummed.
"What?" Danielle asked.
"You, ripping Danielle's clothes off in a darkened swimming pool." John added. Danielle sighed, leaning her head back on the wall. "People might talk."
"People do little else." Sherlock replied.
Danielle giggled.
"Oh." John gasped suddenly, with pain.
Danielle lifted her head. She spotted a red light on his chest. Her heart raced. When she checked, a matching dot on her own chest.
Danielle screamed.
A door opened. That motherfucker started clapping, giggling with joy.
"Sorry, Danielle, sorry boys! I'm soooooo changeable!" Moriarty mocked.
Sherlock, who had not sat down once through that whole thing, glared at the ground. A red dot appeared on his head too, dancing around the black curls. Danielle saw another around the chest. Checking herself again showed two dots there.
Moriarty cackled. "It is a weakness with me but, to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness." He mocked.
Danielle seethed.
Sherlock looked at her. Danielle met his eyes. As she did, she found herself braver.
"You can't be allowed to continue. You just can't. I would try to convince you but..." Moriarty laughed. "...everything I have to say has already crossed your mind!"
Sherlock gave his head a small tilt. Those eyes again expressed his every thought.
Danielle could read him again. She nodded.
Sherlock braced himself. He turned to Moriarty. "Probably my answer has crossed yours."
He lifted the gun again.
Moriarty grinned, accepting the challenge.
Sherlock changed the aim- pointing instead at the bomb jacket.
Danielle reached over. Her hand grabbed John's. John squeezed her fingers tightly. Danielle squeezed just as hard.
Then Moriarty smiled.
==NKMHLY==
AN: To be continued in My Paper Heart.
Wow. Like I said in the last AN...wow. This fic has been 5 years in the making. A lot of that time went to other stories, but I really did love Danielle Nolan's story. I spent a lot of time plotting out the next three seasons. Hopefully what I'm making is something you guys like. The first chapter of MPH should be up right now.
Please, guys, leave a comment! Tell me what you think of the fic. So many of you have left the BEST comments that I still read to this day. Give me some more to look back on as I write the next one in the saga! Your reviews inspire me with new motivation and ideas for the story, so they matter a lot!
But above all...thank you. Thank you guys for putting up with my update schedule! Fingers crossed that MPH comes out more often.
Thanks to ChanelisEverything, gossamermouse101, lydiavip, Tingiliya, lartoli25, and Darkmoondancing for following