A/N: Already anticipating some people freaking out over this chapter. Trust me readers! Trust me. I'm cruel, but not overly so. You will see! Also, most of this chapter was written to "Addicted to a Certain Lifestyle" so if you're in a mood to make this extra angsty listen to that!
"It's time," Mycroft said with a sigh. "You're going to do it, aren't you?"
Sherlock folded his hands behind his back, looking out at Baker Street.
"Sherlock?" Mycroft said, louder this time. "You've surely planned an endgame by now."
He frowned. "I don't have all the pieces I need."
There was a louder exhale from behind him. Sherlock had a mental image of Mycroft rubbing his temples.
"We cannot afford to have any more killings," Mycroft said. "The cost has been great enough already."
"Cost? Afford?" Sherlock muttered. "This isn't one of your budget meetings in the government, Mycroft."
"Precisely," Mycroft said. "These are human lives we're dealing with. And though I don't care all too much for random members of parliament and movie stars and members of the press and millionaires…I have seen the strain this has had on our country."
Sherlock remained still, eyes focused on the sidewalk, waiting for any sign of movement. Baker Street was quiet. Dead.
"And on your family," Mycroft added.
Sherlock stiffened, turning his head enough to regard his brother.
"And what can you mean by that?" Sherlock said, voice sharp.
Mycroft smiled, though there was no joy in it. "Surely you're not blind, Sherlock. Even with the little time I spend around them I've seen the signs. Molly begins to tremble when I bring her a new body. Though Alexander turned down the offer to work for Intelligence, he has yet to express any clear plan for his future. Tell me, brother, aren't medical school applications due soon? Pity I haven't seen any sent in from him yet. And as for Johann…other than the occasional call to me, I believe he spends most of his time either locked in his bedroom or at the library." He paused for a moment. "Oh but I'm sure you're right…your family seems absolutely peachy."
Sherlock swallowed, doing his best to allow his face to remain impassive, even as he took in the facts. He'd seen these things, of course. But he'd been trying to ignore them. Pretending it wasn't real when he came home to see Molly watching the news with a hollow expression on her face, or Alex's latest grades dropping, or Johann's closed bedroom door that didn't open through two meals.
But it was time to stop pretending. Mycroft was right, for once.
"I'll put together a plan," Sherlock said.
"And you'll tell me it?" Mycroft asked, brow raised.
He nodded, though his calculations had already led him to believe that there was no way that Mycroft could be involved. Moriarty would know. And he wouldn't show his face unless it was Sherlock alone. The same as it had been back on St. Bart's rooftop. The two of them alone.
"Yes, of course. Now don't you have paperwork to fill out or something? You're wasting my time."
He waited until he heard the door close. Sherlock looked to the window again, watching as Mycroft disappeared into a dark car that had only just appeared. His brother drove off, and he was left alone once more. Ready for the future. Ready to finish the game.
His hand drifted to his phone. The words were already playing out in his mind. There were enough ways to say it. But he had to find the right one.
"I don't have all the pieces," he whispered again.
And he didn't. But Mycroft did have a point about cost. How much was this worth…ending things? Stopping the destruction before it could get any further.
He tapped out a message and stared at it for a moment. His finger hovered over the send button. Waiting. Thinking.
Was it right?
Call off your dog. It's me you want.-SH
After a long pause, he finally sent it, swallowing as he turned the screen off and tucked the thing back in his pocket. Now all there was to do was wait.
It took 24 hours. Sherlock couldn't say he was surprised. Though he was certain Moriarty had a plan, the man probably needed time to put it into place.
But he hadn't anticipated the possibility of Molly sitting next to him reading when the text came in.
His phone buzzed. It took him a moment, thinking it might be something from Lestrade. But instead, that familiar name greeted his sights, and he felt his heart begin to pound as he opened the message.
Settle this man to man then? You ready Sherlock?
He nodded before tapping in his response.
Yes. Let's end this.
Molly glanced over, eyes narrowing.
"Who's that from?" she asked.
"No one," Sherlock said. "It's not important."
His phone vibrated again. He looked down to see the latest message, so engrossed that he hardly noticed Molly slipping a few centimeters closer.
I'll text you the location later. I can't wait to see you.
Molly gasped and pulled away.
"Is that him? Are you…meeting with him?!" she demanded.
"Yes," Sherlock said, tucking his phone away. There was no point in lying. Not anymore. "It will be over soon."
Her eyes widened as she stared at him.
"No. You can't go alone. I'm coming with you."
Sherlock snorted and turned his head away. "No. You're not. You'll stay here where I know you're safe. I'm not risking your life like that."
Molly folded her arms, though it was hard for Sherlock to tell if she'd been hurt or was simply angry. Either way, this was one issue where he wouldn't back down. Molly might be able to argue her way to some ends, but this was not one of them.
"You're not coming," Sherlock said again before she could speak. "I won't have your life in danger. Now, I'm going out for a few hours. I have preparations to make."
"You don't even know where you're meeting," Molly pointed out with a frown.
Sherlock shrugged. "I have my ideas. And besides, that's not the important thing. The important thing is to try to have as much prepared as I can given what I know."
He stood up and went to grab his coat. Molly sighed behind him. The sound made him pause.
"What?"
He spun around to find her on her feet as well. Her arms were folded across her chest.
"I wish you wouldn't always take this approach, Sherlock. The… 'me alone against the world' attitude. I was with you the last time you faced Moriarty."
"The last time I faced Moriarty he'd forgotten about you," Sherlock said. "I'm quite sure he won't have this time. John wasn't allowed with me if you recall. It's the same as that."
"You nearly lost John because of it," Molly pointed out. "You weren't here for two years. You didn't see him. He...please Sherlock. Don't make this into an excuse."
He froze at the mere thought. Nearly lost John. Oh Molly.
His eyes closed, momentarily trying to pull together his last few thoughts, piece back together the hard shell that normally did so well at protecting his emotions. No, this couldn't be happening. He needed to remain strong.
"I'm coming," Molly said again. "You're not talking me out of it."
Sherlock opened his eyes again and stared at her. There was a moment where he attempted to put up a mask, but in an instant his efforts were undone.
"I can't lose you," he said, barely managing to choke out the last word. "I'm not like you, Molly."
"Not like me how?" Molly asked, jaw clenching.
"I'm not…not strong enough," Sherlock whispered.
Her face softened. "Strong enough?"
"I couldn't bear to lose you," he whispered. "I couldn't do it."
She walked forward, pausing a step away from him and staring up into his face. One hand reached up to rest on his shoulder. He allowed the familiar weight, looking into her eyes and searching for answers there. Reassurance. Comfort. Anything. Whatever it took to put him back together.
"You're Sherlock Holmes," Molly said. "And I know you'll win. You can't lose hope now."
He swallowed.
"I haven't."
"Good," she whispered. Her smile brightened a little, though he still felt it didn't create the same warmth in her eyes that it used to. He wondered if her smile could ever return to what it had once been.
"I have hope," Sherlock said. "Hope to come home to you. And Johann. And Alex. To our home. To this place we've made together. And Molly I cannot lose you if I am to have that hope. Do you understand?"
Molly sighed. "Please, Sherlock. Just tell me when and where you're going. Anything. I…I can't do this."
He thought for a moment and then nodded.
"Fine. Tomorrow," he said. "Tomorrow evening you can come with me. But I warn you, I'll have you leave at the first sign of danger."
She smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "I will. But you're not getting rid of me so easy."
He watched as she picked up her book and moved towards the bedroom. It was only eight, but he knew she had an early morning shift. A few more hours and she'd be going to bed. She was a sound enough sleeper he wasn't worried. By the time she realized he was lying, it would be too late.
Molly's lab. Barts. Meet me in 30 minutes.
He'd suspected this would be the way of it. No time to prepare. That was how Moriarty wanted it, him helpless against whatever traps the man had set. Perhaps it was foolish to walk in so unprepared. But he knew it was time. There was no more point delaying the inevitable.
The light went out in the bedroom. Sherlock steadied himself. Both the boys had long since disappeared. Alex off to a friend's, Johann back into the depths of his room. After just a few minutes he would be free to leave without worrying about any of his family being in danger.
After a moment of silence, he finally went to grab his coat and scarf. He knotted the fabric firmly around his neck, wondering for the first time if this would perhaps be what he'd be found dead in…was this really the end?
He was only stopped when his foot nearly collided with Westley going towards the stairs.
Sherlock sighed and stopped to give the creature a small pet. Westley bristled a bit under his touch, but finally let out a soft mew.
"Take care of them," he whispered. "Alex especially. You'll be good to him, won't you? He really needs you."
The cat let out a soft rumbling purr, arching a little more to enjoy the petting. Sherlock nodded and pulled his hand away. It was time for goodbyes. If there were to be any.
He looked round the sitting room at Baker Street, glancing towards the familiar chairs, the smiley face on the wall, and his violin set to the side. Old familiar things. But there were also the newer additions. Molly's books on one shelf. A family portrait Mrs. Hudson had insisted on snapping sitting on the mantle. Alex's earphones on the coffee table. Johann's jumper over the back of the sofa, football boots to the side of the door. A thousand small sad little reminders of what he was leaving behind.
Sherlock managed to turn his back to it. There was no point in continuing to regret, only a reason to remind himself what he had to lose.
Barts was mostly dark. A few doctors and nurses still scurrying about. He walked with purpose towards the door he wanted, already looking into the dark room with awareness that this was right. Molly's lab, as Moriarty must have known, was empty.
Sherlock pushed through those familiar doors. He surveyed the room, eyeing the usual assembly of chemicals and equipment. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. But still…there could be a bomb or some other device of Moriarty's own planning hidden out of sight. Sherlock would put nothing past him at this point.
He stalked over to the middle of the room, brushing past the microscope he so often hunched over.
There was a moment of silence. A few seconds for him to breathe. For him to think.
And then the door squeaked open behind him, and Sherlock turned to see a man in the doorway.
A brawny man in black, clipped hair, a gun in his hands. And then behind him, of course, came the sauntering criminal himself, smile in place as he walked into the room.
"Hi," Moriarty said, grin never fading. He tucked his hands into his pants pockets, surveying Sherlock with mirth written all over his face.
"So good to see you, Sherlock. Just lo-ove what you've done with the place. Looks good." He made a small half circle to examine the room. "Did you like the place I chose? Think it was fitting?"
"Where we first met," Sherlock muttered. "Appropriate I suppose."
"Mmm," Moriarty said, eyes flicking back to Sherlock. "Back as cute little 'Jim from IT'…back with you and Molly…" he licked his lips. "The place where you met her too isn't it? And John? Perfect little place to arrange our little chat."
"Is that what we're calling it?" Sherlock asked, eyes leveled on the gun in the other man's hands. "And I suppose this must be Moran. And here I thought we'd agreed to chat man to man. No dogs needed."
Moriarty chuckled and shook his head before making a tisking sound.
"Disappointing as ever, Sherlock," he said. "Did you think I'd be that obvious? This…Moran? No, he's just here to ensure you behave. He's no one really. As for dogs…well I'll call mine off if you call yours. Your bitch that is."
Sherlock frowned, until he noted that Moriarty had stepped away from the door, only to see the shadowed figure in the glass. He felt himself tense up as he watched the door open and then Molly was peering in.
"Sherlock?" she whispered, only to have the gun pointed at her. She raised her hands, revealing she had a small pistol as well. Sherlock couldn't say he'd seen it before, but somehow the sight didn't surprise him. She'd seemed nervous lately. It was logical she'd want to protect herself.
"Do come in, Molly," Moriarty purred. "We were just talking about you, weren't we?"
Molly set the gun down as Moriarty's henchman seemed to indicate. Moriarty gave it a kick that sent it under one of the cabinets.
Sherlock cursed and moved forward just in time to catch Molly when she rushed at him.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.
Molly sighed. "I put a tracking device on your phone. Honestly, for the most brilliant detective in the world you're pretty unobservant sometimes."
"Whatever happened to trust in a relationship?" Sherlock said under his breath.
"I could say the same to you, given you lied to me," Molly said, hand squeezing his tightly, even as she glanced back at Moriarty.
"I'm sorry, should we come back?" Moriarty asked, tilting his head to the side. "Leave you two to your little…domestic? Aren't you too just adorable with all your coupley drama…" He rolled his eyes.
Sherlock sighed. "I'm sorry, go on with your evil plot. Where were you? Being disappointed in me I believe?"
"Not hard now a days," Moriarty said with another curving smile. "You've lost your touch, Sherlock. You're just…no fun anymore. Absolutely pathetic." He glanced at the man to his side. "He really is a cute little picture isn't he? What you probably expected when you found out about Moran. But then, I don't think you realized that I'm going to let Moran kill you."
Sherlock though he heard Molly's breath catch, but even so he ignored her in favor of focusing on his enemy.
"Kill me? Too afraid to get your hands dirty?" Sherlock asked, head tilting.
Moriarty's dark eyes were focused on him again, maniac smile ever widening.
"I told you I'd kill you one day, Sherlock. I did. And I meant it. But if you'll remember…I promised I'd save it. Make it special. See…at this point it is. I've made it special. Found the best way to kill you. And really…it came down not to how…but to who."
"And this ideal executioner of yours…am I to meet him then?" Sherlock asked.
The armed man stepped away from the door again. Molly shrank into his side, and Sherlock ran a comforting hand along her arm, even as he tried his best to gain what knowledge he could of his approaching executioner.
But nothing could prepare him for the door opening. He couldn't have anticipated his breath catching and his world slowing to a stop as Moran stepped through the door.
Moriarty glanced back.
"Just in time. I was just explaining my choice of you to Sherlock, though by now I'm sure he's already figured out what made you the perfect candidate for the job. Come in then, kitten. Let's finish this."
The door swung closed, and Alex took two more steps into the room, hands tight on a gun, gaze fixed on Sherlock, his grim expression never wavering.
A/N: Ok so shorter chapter than normal, but that's because the next one is finished and you will get it sometime tomorrow! I'm anticipating some shock at the cliffhanger. But seriously, unless something weird happens…you'll find out what happens very soon.
Thanks to Noxy the Proxy for reviewing! Reviews seriously keep me writing. Well, until tomorrow! Enjoy!