Molly felt a little bit guilty for the cab driver she had. After all, it wasn't his fault that Sherlock could be in a dangerous situation, or hurt, or even...the last option wasn't possible, actually. It wasn't one she could think about or even attempt to handle at the moment. He wasn't dead. That wasn't what the message was for.

In fact, it was probably a prank from some teenager. Right? It didn't truly feel as though Moriarty was there, with Sherlock. And if he as, Sherlock was smart. He could hold his own until she got there. What if he'd already dealt with it? She thought of dashing into the flat building, just to find an annoyed looking Lestrade trying to get a proper summary of what happened to the ever cheeky and vague detective, giving her one look when she came in before grinning at how unnecessarily panicked she looked.

That was what would happen. Right?

It wasn't possible for Sherlock to get seriously injured. Not by that lunatic. He could handle it now. He had her.

Or, at least, he was going to have her. If he even needed her. She was sure he didn't. That, or she was completely lying to herself.

So then, why was she doing everything in her power to not demand that the cabbie go faster and possibly commit every traffic violation known to man to get her there more quickly?

It felt like a lifetime when she finally arrived, the flat looking no different than normal. No shattered glass, no blood or loud shouting coming from upstairs. No police cars. The light was on and the curtains drawn, something that wasn't too out of the ordinary.

She tossed a random amount of notes to the cabbie, not even hearing the thank you for the quite large tip, and climbed out, steadily making her way to the door.

Steadily, of course, until she heard laughing.

Throwing open the door, she bolted up the stairs and all but rammed into the door, freezing entirely at what she saw.

Sherlock sitting in his chair, calmly having tea opposite Peter, Amy, Moriarty, and Tom on the sofa. Tom? Molly supposed that she was shocked by all of it, though she couldn't even begin to decipher what he would be doing there.

"Late to tea," Moriarty scoffed, sneering in her direction as they all gauged her reaction. "Made it myself. The least you could have done was gotten here quicker."

"Sherlock?" Molly mumbled, her eyes remaining trained on the criminal. She sounded frightened, and he knew there wasn't much he could do about it. Not while they were here.

"Come sit, Molly," Sherlock replied, his eyes darting to the armchair in front of his own. Molly obeyed, considering the only other option was to run away, which sounded appealing, but as much as she wanted to be away from these people, she wanted to be as close to Sherlock as she could.

"Ever obedient to the detective," Tom murmured, a smirk on his features as Moriarty grinned wider. "Not much different from when we were engaged, hm?" Molly stared back at her ex fiancé blankly, opening her mouth as if to ask a question, though she had no idea what to say.

"Look like a fish out of water," Moriarty chuckled. "Wasn't expecting much more from you, Sebby, was she?"

"Sebby?" Molly's brow furrowed and she continued staring at Tom. Sherlock scowled, seeing the immediate hurt that struck her face. She'd been used twice by Moriarty now. Molly didn't deserve that, not either time.

"Oh, it seems as though you two haven't been properly introduced!" Moriarty said extravagantly with a wide and formal spread of his arms, one hand reaching towards Tom and the other to Molly. "Molly, this is Sebastian. You don't need to know much, other than the fact that I'm his boss. Tom was just a common name we found online. Jim from I.T. was a bit boring, so we decided to spice things up. Kept you going for nearly two years. Bit of a record, isn't it?"

Molly's face had fallen a fraction, though she was clearly attempting to mask it. There was more of her that was dedicated to being terrified by these people than being hurt for being used by them.

"Really, I was just a test," Tom went on. "To see how much you would always be attracted to that man in front of you." Sherlock scowled further, wanting more than anything to give Molly some kind of reassurance. She looked like someone was peeling the layers of indifference she had left in her, and she was starting to look frightened. More than that, she was clearly afraid of what Tom was about to reveal in front of him.

"Your infatuation with him has always been very clear. Though we weren't quite sure to what extent you were shallow enough. Possibly you thought you were in love with him because he was tall, dark, and handsome. I fit the description well enough. Or at least, I gave you something to work with," Tom explained with a very amused grin, as Molly's face continued to crumble in fractions.

"However, you proved to be a bit more. Yes, I quite willingly began dressing like him, wearing my hair like him, you would buy me the same cologne he uses for holidays and I pretended to be fascinated by science in the way that he was. Unfortunately, I wasn't him. You were so very fixated on him. Very, very shallow indeed, isn't it?"

Molly was blank now, and certainly wasn't looking anywhere within Sherlock's direction. In fact, she seemed to have taken a very special interest in the floor. Sherlock felt each and every need to find a way to comfort her. Commenting on it would very likely make it worse, serve as a reminder that he had heard it.

Although, part of him did wish to comfort her even more, simply because of all the things she had been doing to try and make Tom more like him. He supposed he had been aware of attraction, but never to that extent. She truly had wanted him. He had never dreamed that he meant that much to her. And he'd, very horribly, taken it for granted on several occasions.

That was most certainly going to have to change once this was all said and done.

"But luckily for us, it wasn't a tall man with formal clothing that you wanted. No, it was Sherlock Holmes. I'd wager it still is," Moriarty grinned. "Maybe if Sherlock here had managed to perish in Serbia, you would have had an unhappy marriage with Sebby that you would have been constantly trying to convince yourself you were happy with. Of course, if he had gone through with marrying you, had you not broken off the engagement."

Molly bit the inside of her cheek as Tom only laughed in response. "Marry her? Boss, I could put up with being in a relationship, I even pulled off the proposal in front of her parents. But marrying her?" He snorted. "Sorry, luv. I don't think there's anyone out there who could want you as a lifelong partner, faking or not."

"I'd beg to differ," Sherlock's voice split through the room.

Visibly shocking Molly, the statement succeeded in causing the four others on the sofa to laugh in delight. "Which is exactly what we were hoping for," Moriarty replied, still chuckling from the response.

Molly looked up at Sherlock, though he was only glaring at Tom, looking controlled though quite enraged. Her mind was still repeating what he had said, over and over, and it was overwhelming. She hated that she had to keep that moment so short lived; it was by far the sweetest and definitely most revealing thing the detective had ever said of her, and yet that moment was completely overthrown by the fear of the complete maniacs in front of them.

"You see, Molly," Moriarty murmured, looking to her. "We had every plan to kill you. Break Sherlock's heart. Seemed very fun at the time. You're much more important to him than you'd think. Which makes what we'll do instead all the more perfect." He chuckled at the way both Molly and Sherlock seemed to pale at the statement, despite either's efforts at remaining controlled. "Peter and Amy have been lovely, completely entrusted by Sherlock, giving Sebastian and I here a very stable cover indeed. And now, they've alerted the Yard. Called just before we entered. Meaning, they should be here just about now!"

As if on cue (and knowing this lot of people, Molly was sure it was all timed perfectly just for this moment), red and blue lights began flashing through the curtains, and the sounds of sirens and screeching tires filled the street in front of them. Moriarty, Tom, Peter, Amy and Sherlock set down their tea. The four stood up and raised their hands for the thundering footsteps up the stairs, Sherlock remaining seated and simply watching, Molly following suit.

Officers poured in and apprehended the four of them, each of them being arrested willingly. Molly found herself shrinking back in her seat a bit, frightened by what it is that they were planning on doing. This didn't seem all too frightening, but if their plan was so perfect, then it would be.

"All in due time, Miss Hooper. Mr. Holmes," Moriarty said as he was the last to be led out, as if he had read Molly's mind. As soon as the room was only the two of them left, Sherlock stood up and strode over to her, reaching down and pulling her up to stand with him. She looked up at him, the both of them completely overwhelmed to the point neither of them knew what to say or feel, but Sherlock simply pulled her against his chest, holding her tightly to him and saying nothing for a while.

"What just happened?" Molly mumbled after a while, her arms having slithered around his waist and clung to him.

"I haven't the faintest idea, Molly," Sherlock answered, squeezing her lightly and bringing a hand to the top of her head, pushing the hair from her forehead. "This is a very unreasonable request to make, I know. But don't be scared anymore, alright?" He instructed, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "They're gone. All of them."

There was a lot they would have to discuss now. They both knew that. But at the moment, they were tired and they felt safe for the first time in months. "I'm tired," Molly said quietly after a long while, to which Sherlock chuckled and yawned. "Right. We should probably go to sleep, shouldn't we?"

Molly only nodded and made a soft noise of agreement, reluctant to pull away from him, though she did. He lingered for a moment, as if he didn't much fancy the idea of parting with her either. But there was far too much in the air hanging between them due to that conversation to do anything else. Or at least, that was how it felt. Both were clearly close to both laughter and tears, and neither felt much of a need to break down in front of the other.

Sherlock cleared his throat, bringing his arms from her before kissing her cheek and moving over to his room, soon disappearing as he closed the door gently. Molly turned to retreat to her own room, her eyes clouded over and a small smile on her face, feeling like something of a ghost.

Hooray for causing mental instability for these two! Apologies, that was probably unnecessary. Either way, there are only a few chapters left, so stay tuned for the ending :) Thank you so much for reading and being patient with me for a nearly a year and a month now (in other words, THIS STORY NEEDS TO END.), and I will update as soon as possible 3