A/N This is my first fanfiction, please read and review. All rights to Arthur Conan Doyle, Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss, all geniuses in my opinion. Please read and review...

The Final Solution

Chapter 2

Eyes still connected Molly took another step forward.

"Why me? Why not John or Lestrade or hell, why not Donovan?"

Sherlock curtly replied. "I need you because you're ordinary, because you're nothing special." At this Molly turned and he thought he heard a stifled sob. Still refusing to look at him she spoke quietly.

"You're telling me you need me because I'm nothing. That makes no sense."

Sherlock leapt towards her, a manic grin on his face, "Precisely Molly, you've got in one. You're not the person I would chose if I was still thinking like myself, behaving normally." He gently turned her towards him, "That's why you're perfect, choosing you to help me was erratic, impulsive and he'll never expect it." His voice lowered "Please Molly, I need you."

At this Molly looked up, again he was telling her he needed her, the great Sherlock Holmes, the genius detective, needed her. "Okay, " she hesitantly agreed "What can I do?" Again Sherlock was surprised, twice in one night, in less than ten minutes Molly Hooper had done something he hadn't expected. She may have surprised him but still he realised, something had changed in Molly, she used to be so obvious, one glance and he knew everything, but now she was so protective, so closed to the world. Sherlock wasn't great with feelings but he knew it was because of Moriarty, the tricks and the lies, he had changed her. For some unknown reason Sherlock felt guilty, was Molly targeted because of him, was it his presence that had caused Moriarty to chose her and not some other pathologist.

"Thank you Molly."He said but felt it wasn't enough, he was sure she still didn't realise just how much she was helping him tonight. He wanted to show his appreciation properly so slowly leaned towards her, ensuring no other parts of their bodies were touching, he gently pressed his lips to her cheek. "Really, thank you." he breathed. Abruptly he stood up straight and walked off leaving Molly to quickly regain her senses and hurry to follow him.

He explained everything to her, talking as he worked. Sherlock had retrieved some of his old experiments, the ones that had needed more specialist equipment, most people would it think it was lucky as 221B would surely still be swarming with Scotland Yard. But Sherlock didn't believe in luck, he believed in coincidence and brain power and he knew if he covered every base he would survive. When he finished explaining Moriarty's plan Molly finally spoke up.

"How, how will you survive?" Sherlock paused, he so often forgot that everyone wasn't as smart as he was, he almost made a remark but quickly stopped himself, he wasn't meant to be being himself.

"If I promise to explain later can you just trust me for now Molly?" he asked. Hoping she'd agree, if he was being honest with himself he knew his survival wasn't certain, there were too many uncontrollable variables. He knew he had to try, but also knew if something didn't go to plan he would not hesitate to throw himself off the roof to save his friends. But Molly, sweet innocent Molly would not be able to cope with the harsh reality, so he would not tell her, he would try to protect her in this small way and maybe he could start to make up for failing to protect her from Moriarty in the beginning.

"If you promise to tell me later, that means you promise to survive, otherwise you would not be able to tell me later." She clarified, it was a weird train of logic, but in some ways it made perfect sense, he nodded and turned back to his preparations.

John came and went, called away by a friend of Molly's pretending to be a paramedic. It would not take him long to realise he'd been had, Sherlock knew he would be back soon and then it would be over. Nothing would be the same again. He tidied his belongings, leaving no trace that he had been there and headed for the roof. Now it was time for the game to really begin.

Moriarty was already there, a sweeping glance confirmed Sherlock's suspicions, they were alone and Moriarty was armed. He already knew the conversation they would have and acted suitably shocked when Moriarty revealed the computer code was a fake, of course it was, a short string of digits couldn't possibly wield that sort of power, that control. Time ticked on as Moriarty explained the necessity of Sherlock's suicide to save his friends, child's play Sherlock thought, had he really ever thought Moriarty was anything special.

Sherlock stepped up onto the ledge and looked down, everything was in place, there was a risk it wouldn't work, but either way his friends would live, the question was whether he would too. Then something Moriarty said caught his attention "Your death is the only thing that can call off the killers, I'm certainly not going to do it." Had Moriarty really been so dense, there was another way out, one that was risk free. Laughing to himself he turned around and hopped off the ledge.

"What? What is it?" Moriarty was panicking, he was sure he had won, finally beaten Sherlock Holmes, the one person who ever stood a chance against him. "What did I miss?"

"You're not going to do it? So the killers can be called off then, there's a recall code or a word or a number. I don't have to die if I've got you."

"Oh. You think you can make me stop the order, you think you can make me do that."

"Yes, so do you." He stepped towards Moriarty, closing the gap, blocking any chance of escape.

"Sherlock, your big brother and all the King's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to."

"Yes, but I'm not my brother remember. I am you, prepared to do anything, prepared to burn, prepared to do things other people won't do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell, I shall not disappoint you." As he spoke them Sherlock knew the words were true.

"Nah, you talk big but nah. You're ordinary, you're ordinary, you're on the side of the angels."

"I may be on the the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that I am one of them."

Moriarty paused, and a sudden realisation dawned on his manic features. "No. You're not. I see, you're not ordinary, no, you're me. You're me. Thank you Sherlock Holmes." He stepped forward and shook a bemused Sherlock's hand. "Thank you. Bless you. As long as I'm alive you can save your friends, you've got a way out. Well good luck with that." Quick as a flash he pulled the gun Sherlock knew he had and placed it in his mouth. With one simple move the trigger was pulled and his brain was blown apart.