Chapter Ten: Consequences

A/N: We started this story based on an idea we had obtained from our biology revision, and ironically, as we finish it we're coming up to the next set of our exams. For any of you wondering, we both got an A for the module that inspired this fic, which I think really confirms that writing fanfiction is beneficial to our education!

We know it's been a while since we've updated, but we've been busy not studying for those upcoming exams we just mentioned, and instead watching the new American Pie movie, which was hilarious, but admittedly overshadowed by the fight that broke out in the cinema during the film! Also, we've been giving a lot of consideration to getting a tattoo. We've decided to go for it and we are both getting one on our feet. Maybe drop us a review to say whether you think we should or not. Or, you could just tell us what you think of this story instead!

So here it is: the final instalment. We didn't really know how we were going to end this story until we started writing this final chapter, and we've ended up surprising ourselves! We hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Sherlock has never, and will never, belong to us.

"Let me talk to him," Sherlock requested.

"You know I can't, Sherlock," Lestrade told him.

"Of course you can," Sherlock insisted.

"It's against police protocol," Lestrade tried.

"Most of what goes on in here is against police protocol, but that's never proved to be an obstacle before," Sherlock retorted.

"Yes, but this time it's different, Sherlock," Lestrade boomed in a raised voice. "This time it's Moriarty."

"Exactly! I know him better than anyone in here; better than you, and most certainly better than the incompetent interrogators that you've got in with him at the moment."

"I just don't think it would be a good idea for you to talk to him," Lestrade explained.

"Why not?" Sherlock asked.

"Because," Lestrade began, "I don't think it would be healthy for your…state of mind."

"Oh, I see," Sherlock said, as realisation dawned on him, "you've spoken to Mycroft."

Lestrade did not reply; he just pursed his lips indignantly.

"I assure you that I am of a sound mental state, and talking to Moriarty for five minutes will not cause me to plunge into depression and consequently lead me to a complete breakdown."

"Sherlock…" Lestrade began, but he was weakening.

"You know it would be the right thing to do," Sherlock told him.

"I don't see how it would help. We've got a solid case against him already; with the first-hand evidence we've got, he'd be lucky to get 10 years from a lenient judge. As hard as it may be for you to understand, for once, we don't actually need your input."

"Oh, come on Lestrade, don't be so naïve! I need to go in there to find out what he's planning. You've riled him, and that's dangerous. He's not going to just sit back and take his punishment. I need to go in there to try and find out what he is going to do as revenge."

"You don't know for sure that he's planning anything," Lestrade stated.

"Yes I do. I know him, remember, and I know that there is no way he is going to let me win this one," Sherlock explained.

"It's not always about winning, and it's not always about you. This isn't a game, Sherlock." Lestrade responded firmly.

"YES IT IS! It always is, for him," Sherlock cried.

Lestrade sighed in despair.

"You've got five minutes, that's it," Lestrade finally surrendered.

Sherlock grinned triumphantly and headed towards the interrogation room.

"But Sherlock," Lestrade called out after him, and Sherlock stopped but did not turn round. "Try not to get too caught up in the…game. It's not just about winning; it's about protecting the life of an 18 year-old girl, remember."

Sherlock nodded slightly before continuing in the direction of his destination. Lestrade exhaled deeply, before following him down the corridor towards the room where Moriarty was being held.

Sherlock stood staring through the one way mirror into the interrogation room where Moriarty sat, seemingly paying no attention to the interrogators questioning him. Growing impatient, he abruptly stormed into the room. "Get out" he ordered the police officers sat across the desk from the criminal.

"Excuse me!" one of the men said, shocked.

"I think you're the one who needs to leave; it's only police staff allowed in here," the fellow police officer told him as he began to usher Sherlock out of the room.

"Let him in. He has my permission, so just give him five minutes to talk to him privately," Lestrade ordered, as Sherlock pushed past the men as they begrudgingly got up to leave, and sat opposite Moriarty. He clasped his hands together and leaned in towards him so that the pair of them had direct eye contact.

"Hey Honey!" Moriarty trilled.

"Good evening," Sherlock replied, cautiously observing the man facing him.

"Nice of you to come in and pay me a visit," Moriarty said with a crooked grin.

"I felt it was the courteous thing to do," Sherlock replied politely.

"Sooo courteous of you," he reiterated sarcastically.

"It's a shame that things didn't work out the way you had planned," Sherlock prompted.

"Indeed, if it weren't for Leah's intervention, then we could be sat on the sofa together watching the Eastenders repeat with a nice cup of tea," Moriarty said, "maybe even some biscuits too."

"But instead we're sat together in a box room in The Metropolitan Police Station sipping lukewarm water," Sherlock added.

"Tragic, really," Moriarty commented.

"You must be feeling upset, and angry," Sherlock said.

"Must I now?"

"Beaten by a teenage girl, not exactly good for the ego, is it?" Sherlock said, trying to antagonise Moriarty.

"I'll tell you what's not good for the ego: letting a teenage girl do your job for you, who turns out to be better at it than you," he stated. "Of course it was never really about her, though. She was insignificant, until you let her step into the limelight of course. And now she's consequently become the centre of my attention."

"You won't be able to get to her," Sherlock insisted, partly to himself.

"Are you quite sure about that?" Moriarty said, picking up on the hint of doubt in Sherlock's voice.

"You're going to jail, for a very long time."

"Probably."

"You failed," Sherlock stated.

"You failed," Moriarty repeated. "You failed to protect her."

"I will protect her now," Sherlock told him.

"You shouldn't have let her put herself in such a grave danger in the first place though, should you?"

Sherlock couldn't think of a reply, which was most unlike him.

"I never planned to let anything happen to her," Moriarty revealed.

"You brought her into this," Sherlock countered.

"Only as a distraction; you were the one that made her a main player in this game."

"It's not a game!"

"It's always a game, and you forget, Sherlock, that games can be dangerous, fatal even."

"What are you going to do to her?"

"It is such a shame," Moriarty began.

"What?" Sherlock inquired eagerly.

"Such a shame that such a pretty young thing had to die," Moriarty said, pouting.

"She's alive; I've just seen her writing her statement upstairs," Sherlock told him.

"She died the moment you let her walk out of that assembly," Moriarty stated sinisterly.

"Time's up, out you come," Lestrade interrupted.

"No!" Sherlock cried.

"Sherlock, you've had your five minutes, now out you come," Lestrade said assertively.

"But…" Sherlock began to protest.

"You heard the man, now follow orders like a good little boy and off you trot," Moriarty added.

"WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO TO HER?" Sherlock screamed, suddenly losing all composure and banging his fists against the desk that separated himself and Moriarty.

Moriarty leaned back abruptly and held up his hands in mock terror.

"That is enough, Sherlock," Lestrade said as he gripped Sherlock's upper arm and hauled him out of the room. "I knew I should have listened to Mycroft!"

"What the fuck were you doing in there?" Lestrade shouted, as he pulled Sherlock away from the room. "I thought you promised me you weren't going to have a breakdown?"

"I'm absolutely fine; I'm not having a breakdown," Sherlock claimed.

"Really! Well what the hell was that in there then?"

"I was merely adopting the same technique that the majority of your police officers use whilst questioning suspects," Sherlock said facetiously.

"You might have seen that on The Bill, but that's not how we work in here!"

"I don't watch television," Sherlock retorted.

"The Bill's not on anymore actually," John chipped on, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. He was ignored.

Lestrade gritted his teeth, and grasped the air in fury at Sherlock's arrogance. "Just leave now, will you, we can take it from here."

"Actually there is someone else I needed to see," Sherlock replied.

"Absolutely not," Lestrade replied instantly.

"It's extremely important," Sherlock asserted.

"Who is it?"

"Leah."

"No way."

"Why not?"

"I think you've caused enough damage for one day, don't you?" Lestrade said.

"She's not under police custody, so technically I am perfectly within my rights to see her," Sherlock argued.

"She's already traumatised, she definitely doesn't need to see you right now," Lestrade reasoned.

"Why don't we let her decide that for herself?" Sherlock suggested.

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Sherlock!" Lestrade cried out in despair.

"I'm going to see her, so tell me where she is," Sherlock demanded.

Lestrade gestured to the room she was in, before adding: "She's waiting in there while my officers try to get in contact with her parents."

Lestrade opened the office door and called out: "Leah there's someone here to see you, don't worry if you don't feel up to it right now, I can just tell him to go away?"

"Who is it?" she asked.

"It's Sherlock."

"Oh, that's fine, he can come in," Leah agreed.

Sherlock smiled his 'I told you so' grin at Lestrade, as he pushed past him and walked towards Leah. As he down next her she glanced up and smiled weakly at him, before averting her eyes and staring down at her lap.

"Why did you do it Leah?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, to save you of course," she stated simply.

"You didn't need to do that. I don't need protecting," he told her.

"I know that, but I wanted to."

"Why?"

"For once in my life I felt like I was actually doing something useful, not just solving equations and mixing chemicals. For once I was more than just the 'nerdy one' in my class."

"You shouldn't have done it, and what's more, I shouldn't have let you."

"It was my decision. Don't feel responsible for anything that may or may not happen as a result of it."

"So, you knew you would be in danger yet you still did what you did?"

"Yes. I told you I wanted to do something important. You're the world's only consulting detective and it would have been a great shame for you to have been…for people to no longer be able to utilise you talents."

"I would have found my way out of it."

"Would you? It's just to me, it seemed like you'd given up. Did you have a plan?"

"I would have thought of something, and even if I had handed myself over to Moriarty tonight I would have managed to escape."

"He'd have killed you, you know? Tortured you before, probably. I couldn't stand the thought of him doing that to you," Leah revealed as she talked into her lap; unable to look him directly in the eyes as she said it.

"You didn't have to protect me. I should have protected you." Sherlock said quietly, also looking away.

"I think you did need me too, actually, which is why I did it, and it's fine because now you've got the chance to protect me from him and his people," Leah said, managing a smile as she did so.

"I'll do my upmost to ensure nothing happens to you," Sherlock promised.

"I believe you, but should you not be able to for any reason, don't feel guilty. It was my own decision to do what I did and I accept the penalties," Leah tried to reassure him.

Sherlock remained silently, until he suddenly turned to Leah and asked: "Did you love him?"

Leah didn't respond.

"It's just the first time we met, you showed signs of attraction towards him when he walked in, which is why I find it so perplexing that you went to such great lengths to frame him like you did."

"The truth of the matter is he's a danger to himself. He'll be better off locked away. I did feel something for him, maybe it was love, maybe it wasn't. But I could still see that the way he acts and the things that he does are wrong and he shouldn't be allowed to continue," Leah explained, "and if either of you should defeat the other in your…game, then it should be you and not him."

"I see, so when did you first uncover his plans?"

"I researched him as soon as he came to the school as a new chemistry teacher. I thought it was strange when the initial Head of Science took early retirement in the middle of term, so I looked into his background. And I found out more than enough about him...and yourself, for that matter," Leah told him.

"Then what happened?" Sherlock asked, eager to get the whole story from Leah's point of view.

"He began flirting with me not long after he arrived. I reciprocated of course as part of my plan to appear as though I was hopelessly falling for him as so he wouldn't suspect that I was on to him. Meanwhile I was taking frequent trips to the counsellor to discuss his behaviour. Then it was just a case of waiting to see what he had planned. Of course, then he made me write the message to Mycroft, so I had a rough idea of what he had in store. I was aware that the threat regarding the CO2 was actually implausible, so I knew he must have some other plan to get you, and that my purpose was not only to be a courier; I knew that he was going to use me for something else. When you came to visit me in school I realised I had to move fast, so I put my plan into action. On my visits to the counsellor's office I often used to read the messages on her phone and by doing so, I found out she was dating Greg Lestrade, a Detective Inspector, which proved to be a useful connection. I looked in her diary to find out when they were next meeting up, which was lunchtime today. I pickpocketed her house keys from her bag. I knew she'd have to come back for them, so I was certain she would return to her office. I had been trying for ages to convince her that Moriarty was sexually abusing me, though in actual fact it was me who had been leading him on in that sense. Anyway, she wouldn't believe me; she needed to see it for herself, so I had to do something drastic. I seized the opportunity and invited Moriarty up to Carol's empty office, which was when I made my move. Ironically, he did start to get carried away, and I ended up resisting his advances, but Carol and her date arrived before he could do anything...bad. The timing really couldn't have been more perfect as it turned out."

"You couldn't be sure that they would get there in time, or even at all," Sherlock commented.

"But they did. I provided the evidence, so the plan worked."

"Yes, indeed it did," he said.

At that point Donovan entered the room and interrupted the pair, "Leah, your Dad's just touched down in Heathrow. He's on his way now to pick you up."

"Oh, was he visiting France? Trouy, I imagine," Sherlock asked.

"Yes actually, he was visiting some of his relatives. We used to live there, and most of our family still do. So, go on, how did you deduce that?" Leah inquired, with a grin.

"I noticed the charm on the bracelet that you were wearing in the lab. It is the coat of arms for Trouy, and it's too obscure a place to be a tourist attraction, so I assumed you must have been a local at some point, and bought it as a reminder of your hometown before you left."

"Correct, of course," Leah replied with a chuckle.

"So do you think he planned it all along?" Molly asked as she tried to take in everything John had just told her on the phone about how Leah had set Moriarty up.

"I'm not sure. I'm waiting here at the station at the moment. Lestrade says Sherlock's in talking with Leah now," John said.

"Well this is such a shock," Molly said, still attempting to process all the information.

"Hmm it is," John agreed. "Anyway how are you Molly? What was happening between you and Sherlock in the flat earlier?"

"Oh, it was nothing really," Molly insisted, though she hoped it wasn't true. "We were talking, things got a bit intense and we were both caught up in the moment. I really don't think Sherlock realised what he was doing."

"Well, it didn't look like nothing," John told her.

"Yes, but I think even if you hadn't interrupted, he would have soon realised what he was doing and...withdrawn."

"You don't know that Molly, I think the two of you should at least discuss it. Why don't you come down to the station and meet us? He has a really tough day, what with all this business with Leah, he really needs someone here with him and he won't talk to me...not about this, anyway."

"I'm not sure he'd want to talk to me."

"He trusts you Molly, and I'm sure he'd appreciate it if you came."

"John, in all honesty, do you think that I should try and discuss what happened with him? I don't want to stress him out even more."

"I think you should, you both need to let each other know how you feel. The longer you leave it, the harder it will be to talk about it."

"I suppose you're right. If you think it's a good idea I'll come down to the station and see him now."

"Yes, come down now."

"Ok, I'll be there as soon as possible. And thanks for your advice John, I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it Molly, see you soon."

"Is Leah ok?" Carol asked Lestrade from his office chair.

"Yeah, she's fine. I don't know how she'll be after Sherlock's done talking to her though," Lestrade told her.

"Oh, is he with her now, then?" Carol asked.

"Yes, he insisted."

"Oh God, Greg, I just feel terrible," Carol said, her head in her hands.

"Don't, it's not your fault," Lestrade tried to reassure her.

"I should have believed her. Why did I doubt her?" Carol wailed.

"Anyone in your position would have doubted her; Moriarty had tampered with all her school records to make her seem like a compulsive liar. Don't blame yourself," Lestrade tried to calm Carol down.

"But I just keep thinking, what if it was one of my girls…" Carol started, before bursting into hysterical tears.

Lestrade awkwardly rubbed his girlfriend's back in an attempt to soothe her. "Look, without giving away too much here, all I can say is that Leah knew exactly what she was doing, and what she was getting herself into. There was really nothing you could have done to stop it. Besides, we arrived just in time, so stop torturing yourself," Lestrade explained.

"What do you me...ean?" Carol asked through sobs.

"I can't give you any more details, but all you need to know is that none of this is your fault; you just got caught up in the middle of someone else's twisted game. Please believe me, love, I can't stand seeing you this upset," Lestrade pleaded.

"So, I couldn't have prevented it anyway?" Carol said with a sniffle.

"You couldn't have prevented it anyway," Lestrade confirmed.

"Oh Greg," Carol exclaimed, rubbing her eyes, "that is such a relief!"

"Leah," Donovan called out as she opened the door to the room which Leah and Sherlock were currently occupying. "I've just spoken to your Dad on the phone, and he's waiting outside. Do you want me to take you downstairs?"

"No, it's fine, I'll manage," Leah told her.

"Ok then, well the lift's at the end of the corridor," Donovan pointed behind her.

"Yes, ok," Leah said. "Bye then, Sherlock."

"Goodbye Leah," he said. Just before the door shut behind her, Sherlock called out. "I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

Molly drummed her fingers against her thigh nervously as she sat in the back of the cab which was quickly approaching the police station. 'Now just calm down' she thought to herself, her heart began to race as she glanced out of the window and realised she was less than five minutes away from her destination. 'It's going to be fine', she reassured herself. Molly let her mind wander and began to imagine the scenario that awaited her. She imagined herself approaching Sherlock and smiling at him reassuringly, she then imagined herself beginning to explain her feelings to him: 'Sherlock, about earlier on today. The thing is I just wanted to talk to you about what happen earlier on today, you know the thing where we…well we didn't actually…but we nearly…we almost…you know…It's just you know that I…well I like you…but you already know that, of course, because of what happened at Christmas. But I always thought that you…didn't look at me that way…because well you're so… well…you're so mean to me…well no not mean….just unfriendly sometimes…which is fine because that's just the way you are. But the thing I wanted to ask you was…well because…you know... you…um…almost kissed me…well maybe you weren't going to kiss me…maybe you were just going to wipe something off my face…but I just wanted to ask you why you did that.' "Why Sherlock, why?" Molly suddenly shouted out loud unintentionally.

"Sorry, what was that love?" the taxi driver asked, turning his head to face Molly with a confused expression.

"Oh nothing, I didn't mean…I wasn't…I wasn't actually talking to you," Molly explained sheepishly.

The taxi pulled up outside the station, and Molly paid the taxi driver and gave him a generous tip. She stepped out of the cab and slowly began approaching the station, before pausing and taking a moment to regain her composure.

"Greg, hold me," Carol pleaded dramatically.

Lestrade did as ordered and embraced Carol tightly. He stroked her hair and whispered, "Everything's going to be ok, you've got me now, and I'm here for you."

"Oh Greg, you don't know how much that means to me," Carol said, beginning to well up all over again.

"I really think we could make a go of this, you know. I know this might sound a bit soppy, but I've really fallen hard for you Carol," Lestrade revealed, unwilling to even take into consideration the claims that Sherlock had previously made about Carol's ill intentions.

"Take me!" Carol exclaimed.

"What?" Lestrade called out.

"Right here, on your desk," Carol declared.

"Umm, well…it might not be…" Lestrade trailed off as he felt Carol's hand glide down his shirt towards his belt buckle.

"Shhh, Greg, don't talk, just make love to me!" Carol ordered.

"Ummm, ok then!" Lestrade quickly gave in.

Leah pressed the call button for the lift. It arrived quickly, and she stepped inside and pressed 'G' for ground floor. The doors shut in front of her.

Moriarty stood in the middle of his police cell, released from interrogation at last. His hands were in his pockets and a grin was plastered across his face. He began counting down aloud: "3…2…1…BOOM!"

Molly went to open the door to the police station, but as she did so, she found herself jolt backwards as the floor shook beneath her feet.

Lestrade began fumbling with the buttons on Carol's blouse, desperately trying to undress her, when suddenly the desk moved from between them as the impact hit the room and the pair tumbled to the floor.

John was sat, twiddling his thumbs, on a chair in the corridor until he was hurled forward by the explosion, and slammed into the wall in front of him.

Sherlock remained sat in the waiting room after Leah had left, his elbows on his knees, and his palms pressed together. Then he heard it: the sound of a bomb going off, the sound that left his ears ringing, and his limbs shaking. The sound of death.

Leah stood in the lift, waiting for it to start going down, when she began to hear a noise. 'Beep…beep…beep'. She turned round to see where it was coming from. The detonator attached to the block of Semtex in the corner of the lift by the looks of it.

The beeps stopped.

Leah closed her eyes.

'BOOM!'

A/N: The end! It turned out to be quite dramatic, didn't it? We put a lot into this story, so thank you for taking the time to read it. We hope you liked reading it as much as we did writing it. We're quite sad that it's all over now, but it was certainly fun while it lasted!

Goodbye, for now.