A short time later, Sherlock found himself back at the station he had become familiar with. With hurried steps he went towards the door.

He was about to open it when it was suddenly pushed open and the man he so desperately needed to find stood before him.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Holmes. Are you here to see Molly? You must know it's inconvenient just now. She's resting." the man said, glancing back.

Sherlock followed his gaze and saw Molly lying in her bed, her eyes closed. Her chest rose and fell with her breathing. Then he turned his eyes back to the man in front of him. There was anger in his eyes.

"But you know, I wanted to talk to you anyway. Fancy a coffee?" he said then and as he said it he flanked the detective.

"Are you coming?" he asked again, after leading the way by a few metres.

And a short time later they found themselves in the hospital canteen. It was relatively empty and so they both quickly found a suitable place to talk. With two mugs of hot coffee in his hand, Tom joined them back at the table. Calmly sitting down in his chair, he put his mug down for Sherlock and took a sip of his hot drink.

"I know you're behind all this. It's over, Tom Anderson. Or should I say Tom Harrison?"

Said man put on a surprised face. Then the expression on his face changed to something ugly. A malicious grin on his lips.

"So, you've finally figured it out. I was wondering when the time would come. Did you like my little gift?"

Sherlock couldn't help but put on an angry face. Disgust came over Sherlock when he saw his defiant grin. This man was not who he pretended to be and worst of all, he was toying with Molly and her life just to get back at him. He would love to smack that disgusting grin off his face but he knew he had to be calm and smart about it.

Sherlock did not respond to his last question.

"I must say you played really well but it's over now" Sherlock then replied.

Tom just shrugged boredly.

"Hmm...tell me Mr. Holmes. What did you find out? I'd like a little taste of your talent. Tell me my story."

Sherlock leaned back in his chair.

"You are not a born Englishman. You were born in the United States. In Washington to be precise. Your father was Robert Harrison. Their mother died giving birth to them. You were adopted by an Anderson family from York and grew up in England ever since. But over time, you sought contact with your biological father. They were able to settle their differences because they lived with their father in the USA for some time when they were teenagers. But anyway. Their father was employed by a large chemical company but he also led a double life as a drug lord. On top of that, he acted as a mole and was part of Moriarty's criminal network. What I've been destroying piece by piece over the last two years. That's probably how you knew I was alive and faked my death. And now they're out for revenge because their father was turned in by me and is now serving his life sentence in a federal prison."

Sherlock finished his remarks and folded his arms in front of his chest.

The man across from him stiffened and anger tugged at his face.

"You're good. Really, you are. It's true. I have an American citizenship. But I didn't live there long. My father blamed me for my mother's death and gave me up for adoption. The Andersons, a really loving and childless family, ended up adopting me. Despite this, I never stopped loving my father and wanted to see him again. I sought contact with my father when I was 14 and some time later I moved back in with him. You have to know, my adoptive parents were quite busy people and spent most of my life travelling for business. I was brought up by my nanny and the maids. However, after I found my father again, the Andersons and my father came to an agreement. Until I turned 21, I lived with my father. I think they just felt guilty about always leaving me alone for so long. I graduated from high school and college.

When I grew up, I moved back to England to take over my adoptive father's family business. I continued to keep in touch with my father and at one point I had to learn that he had been arrested and taken to federal prison."

He paused for a moment.

"But my father is no longer in federal prison. He was killed! In there by the inmates, murdered in cold blood. I loved my father. After I lost my mother, he was everything to me. Even though he gave me away and I love the Andersons just as much, I never stopped loving him. In the last few years I dealt a lot with his arrest and at some point I came across you. And that's how I knew you weren't dead.

It's your fault my father's dead. You arranged for his arrest and thus sent him to certain death. And now they will pay for it!"

Now everything was falling into place. Sherlock had seen to it that his biological father was sent to prison and did not survive there. Tom blamed him for his death and now wanted revenge on him.

"That explains their desire for revenge but tell me this, why Molly? You could just as easily have chosen John, my family or me alone?"

"Oh, then where would be the fun?!" said Tom, leaning back in his chair with a cocky grin on his face.

"As for Molly. I never wanted it to come to this. I really liked her. Hell, I even wanted to marry her.

When I met Molly at a mutual friend's wedding, I didn't know about her past with you or her feelings for you at first. It was a harmless flirtation that developed. I started to develop serious feelings for her and thought that maybe Molly would be the one to help me forget about my feelings of revenge. But then you showed up and with you, Molly's repressed feelings.

And then I saw the two of you at the bar and on the night of the wedding. And I realized one thing. You like Molly a lot. I'd even go so far as to say you're in love with her. I knew if you told her about it, she'd leave me. And if I can't have Molly, no one shall! With these thoughts of that, my desire for revenge rose again. So I had to do something. I wanted you to suffer. I wanted you to experience the exact loss I had. I wanted you to know how it feels to lose a loved one."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he swallowed hard. Tom knew about his feelings for Molly and he was right. Sherlock was in love with her and he hated himself for letting himself go like that in her presence and thus putting Molly in the crosshairs. All his life he managed to shut himself off from love and feelings. But Molly managed to slowly bring down his wall around his heart. Even if she didn't know it, she had touched him deeply. And now she was going to pay for it with her life?

"Do you know how easy it actually is to make thallium and other poisons?" asked Tom.

Sherlock's gaze shot up.

"Rat poison," Sherlock replied curtly.

Tom grinned smugly.

"That's right. And when you have a father, like me, who knows about the chemical composition and filtering of these substances, it's a piece of cake. I administered a small amount of the neurotoxin to Molly every now and then in the beginning. I had to be careful. I didn't want to kill her right away."

"You know the doctors have identified the thallium in her body and the treatment is successful. Molly is already on the road to recovery. And whatever poison you give her, the doctors will find out. There's nothing more you can do" Sherlock replied to him.

"Right. Yes, right. You're right." began Tom quietly, bowing his head slightly.

Sherlock thought for a moment that he had defeated Tom and he was giving up on it but then he raised his head. The corners of his mouth turned upwards.

"Do you really think I'm that stupid? Of course, I still have an ace up my sleeve. You know, if only you had come five minutes earlier, you might have been able to stop me. Of course, doctors and today's medicine can detect various poisons in the body but there is one poison that is barely if at all detectable in the body and is quickly fatal at the right dose. Can you guess which one I mean?"

Then he leaned forward slightly and grinned arrogantly.

Eyes wide, Sherlock stared at his counterpart.

"Ricin."

"That's right. And Oh, I think it's time" he then said looking at his watch.

"It's over, Sherlock Holmes. At this very moment Molly will take her last breaths and any life from her will be extinguished!

It's a shame, really. I really liked you."

Sherlock had shock written all over his face.

"Molly," he whispered softly, looking towards the exit in horror.

He could no longer hear what Tom was saying. He quickly got up from his chair and ran as fast as he could in the direction he had come from. On the way to the room he knew, he hoped and prayed that he was not too late.

"Please don't let it be too late. Please, please, please" he kept muttering to himself.

His heart was racing and literally jumping out of his chest.

He reached her room after a few minutes and pushed the door open with all his might, causing it to crash against the wall behind it with a loud bang. Some people around him were startled by the sound and gave him disapproving looks. But he did not care. What mattered was Molly.

Then he saw a horde of doctors and nurses standing around Molly's bed. They looked briefly in his direction and then turned back to Molly. They were trying to save her life with all kinds of equipment. A nurse moved slowly towards Sherlock and calmly but firmly instructed him to wait outside the door.

Sherlock glanced briefly and anxiously in Molly's direction and then turned around.

He waited for several minutes without anyone coming out. Again and again he heard muffled voices and calls from inside but nothing happened.

With each minute he waited he only got more nervous and then all at once the door opened.

The people Sherlock had seen earlier at Molly's bedside stepped out. All wore what Sherlock considered strange expressions. A doctor approached him slowly.

His head lowered.

"I'm sorry. We tried everything, but it was too late."

Sherlock stared at the man with wide open eyes. Shock was written all over his face.

Then he hurried past the man as quickly as he could, into the room and closed the door. With hesitant steps, he slowly approached her bed.

He still hoped that he had simply misheard.

But it was too late.