THROES
27 November 2015
Summary: Sherlock finally resolves the Moriarty problem.
Ship: Sherlolly
Rating: T, for gun violence
A/N: Originally posted on my freelance editing blog.
Molly throws the rooftop door open just as gunshots ring out. She feels Mary's hand curling round her arm and gives her a tight smile before scanning the rooftop for Sherlock. Seeing him with a gun in his hand, she calls out his name, but he does not turn his head towards her. "I'm OK," she tells Mary in a low voice before she limps towards him, her friend at her heels.
Clutching his shoulder, she looks down at the supine figure before them. Despite herself, she shivers at the sight of his bloodied chest and abdomen. "Is that––"
"Jacob Moriarty," he replies in a cold, toneless voice.
"How many bullets are left in the magazine?" asks Mary.
"Four. One for each day he held Molly."
The three of them watch in silence as James Moriarty's twin brother convulses in his death throes.
Finally, Sherlock raises his gun and shoots Jacob in the head until they hear the click of an empty magazine. After putting the gun back in his inside coat pocket, he turns to Molly and looks her over before cupping her face. "Are you all right?"
Molly's chest tightens upon seeing so many emotions on his face. She nods and lets a few tears go. "Yes," she whispers. "Mary rescued me." She glances at the blonde woman as she brushes her tears away.
Sherlock turns to their friend and gives her a tender smile. "Thank you, Mary."
"Anytime," she answers with a wink. "Um, I'll go inside and wait with John and Greg until you open the door." The nurse––who, Molly notes, has a remarkable talent for kicking arse and rescuing injured pathologists––smiles at them before she runs towards the door.
Once she is gone, Sherlock gathers Molly in his arms and pulls her to him. "I thought I was going to lose you," he whispers in her ear, his voice full of regret and relief. "I'm sorry I was so careless that they got to you. I am never letting you get hurt again."
She tightens her hold on him, revelling in his warmth and protection. "It's OK. I'm safe now, thanks to you and Mary! You figured out where he was holding me and she got me out of that warehouse." She looks up at him. "She's not just a nurse, is she?"
He chuckles despite the tears rolling down his cheeks. "No, she's not."
She glances at the dead man on the ground before reaching for his hand. "Are you ready to go inside and talk to Greg?"
Wiping his tears with the back of his free hand, he nods and squeezes her hand. "Let's go."
They head for the door without another glance at Jacob Moriarty.
This is my first time writing in present tense, so I probably messed up grammatically, stylistically, or both. But I just wanted to try it out for this ficlet. I hope it's all right. :)
Also, please let me know if y'all think the violence is too much or graphic enough to raise the rating. I've been desensitized to violence, but I know some of y'all are not.
Hate it? Like it? Love it?
