Hey guys, sorry it's been awhile, but I started a new job about 3 weeks ago and I'm working 10 to 12 hour days while I can. They've given us unlimited overtime but only for the holidays. And with my mom still not able to find work, it has been a blessing! So I know many of you are used to my quick updates, but I haven't had much free time as of late. I hopefully will be able to write more as we come into the new year and I'll be able to update my other stories.
I had thought this would be the last chapter, but it looks like one more after this and we will come to the end of this one. Thanks so much to all of you that have been with me from the beginning of this and have supported this! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and that it was worth the wait!
Hello to all my new readers and followers! Hi to all my old readers and followers and a hi to all you lurkers out there! I hope all of you have a wonderful Turkey day and that it is a joyful day full of good food, friends, family, memories past and new memories and love!
THANKS TO ALL OF YOU AGAIN! And thanks to all of you who have kept my mom in your thoughts and prayers!
John held Molly's wrist tightly as he tried to tend to the wound on her forearm which was difficult due to the fact that she would not sit still.
Exasperated, John spoke. "Molls, please sit still. Sherlock is going to be fine. We'll be at the hospital in a few minutes. Now let me take care of you. Incase it's escaped your notice, you did not come out of this injury free."
Molly turned back around and looked at John. "Oh John…what if Jim's already gone when they get to the house? What if he comes for Sherlock?"
John's hand slid from her wrist to take her hand. "Molly, there is no way Moriarty is getting out of this. Mycroft and Barnaby have men strategically placed everywhere. Just about the entire Causton police force has been dispatched and Mycroft has MI 5 coming to the house where he kept you and also to the airport where he was planning to make his escape by plane." He scooted closer and took Molly's other hand in his. "They'll get him Molly. This will all be over very soon."
Molly nodded and tried to turn her head to look back at the black car that carried Sherlock and the four armed men guarding him. She felt John tug at her wrist and she turned back to look at him, trying to smile.
John reached out and cupped her cheek. "It will be okay. I promise you it will all be okay."
She seemed to relax a bit and nodded at him allowing him to tend to her cuts and bruises without further impediment.
The sedan that carried John, Molly, and two of Mycroft's men turned sharply, nearly knocking Molly to the floor of the car, but John caught her and steadied her. It came to an abrupt stop and the door was opened so quickly, it startled the both of them.
"We're here mate." A fair haired man said holding the door wide enough for John to see the edge of the hospital. The other car pulled in behind them. John got out leaving Molly in the care of Mycroft's men and made his way into the hospital.
Molly got out of the car and watched as two men gently pulled the unconscious Sherlock from the back seat of the car just as two orderlies rushed from the hospital followed by John. The two orderlies put Sherlock on the hospital bed they had been pushing and took him inside.
John motioned for Molly to come and she went to him. They walked side by side into the hospital.
It had taken a few hours to stabilize Sherlock. His wounds had been disinfected and he had to be given two pints of blood. The physician attending to him could not say for sure how many of his wounds would cause scaring. He had Sherlock sedated and ordered an IV of fluids before he allowed John into see him.
Molly was not allowed in to see him at all until she checked herself into the hospital and had her own wounds tended too. She sat anxiously waiting for the nurse to leave her alone in her hospital room so that she could go to Sherlock. Unfortunately for her, an IV of fluids was also ordered for her. At first she refused, but relented when the doctor informed her that he felt she was unable to make the appropriate decisions for herself due to her aggravated emotional and mental state. He also informed her that if she did not lie back and do exactly as she was told, he would order her strapped down for the IV.
Begrudgingly she did as she was told and laid back on the bed. The nurse inserted the IV and left Molly alone in the room. Although she knew that the nurse and doctor only wanted to take care of her, she silently cursed them both for the IV. She couldn't exactly sneak out of her room and down the hallway attached to an IV bag. Her fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly as hot tears of frustration and anxiety slid over her cheeks.
She couldn't help but think this was so very far from over and with Mycroft and Barnaby gone, who would protect Sherlock? John was here, but he was only one man and the men that had been left to protect Sherlock, well there were only a hand full of them and with Jim, it felt as if an entire army would be needed to protect Sherlock.
And Sherlock himself lay unconscious and unaware on a hospital bed…completely and utterly helpless.
"Sir we've searched everywhere...Moriarty is not here." The young officer said looking flushed at Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.
"Damn! How in the hell did he make it past both mine and your men?" Barnaby asked of Mycroft.
"I think we may assume that he is heading for the airport where he will be apprehended." Mycroft answered already on his mobile to the team if MI5 he had stationed there.
Barnaby shook his head. "I don't think we need assume anything when it comes to this man. Something does not feel right about this. Why were we able to take this house so easily?" He turned back to his officer. "And Moran? Where is he?"
"We're still trying to get to him sir, but he's got himself barricaded in up there and he's a crack shot sir. Picking anyone off who approaches one by one."
"Where exactly is he?" Barnaby asked.
"One of the upper floor bedrooms sir, facing the back of the house." The young officer answered.
Jack entered the room shoving roughly past the officers to reach Barnaby and Mycroft.
"Mycroft what in the blazes are you doing standing there?" Jack snapped his hand over the gunshot wound to his shoulder.
"Bloody hell Jack! You're bleeding all over the damn floor." Mycroft snapped at him. "You need to get to a hospital."
"I'm not going anywhere until you listen to me Mycroft Holmes. Why in the hell do you have so many of your men fooling with that blasted Moran? Moriarty is gone. He made his escape a few moments before you and Barnaby got here. Moran holed himself up in that room and began to unload his rifle."
"I know Moriarty is gone Jack. I am alerting to my men to that fact as we speak. They will apprehend him before he even reaches the plane."
"He's not going to the damn airport man! He's going for your brother. He was raving like a lunatic when I was dragged back here. Saying it was Sherlock's fault Molly was gone and that she could never love him if Sherlock were alive and well in this world. Said he was going to find Sherlock and burn him. Next thing I know, Moran is running around like a madman grabbing as many rifles as he can carry with enough ammunition for a small army and takes off up the steps. He starts firing out that damned window and Moriarty is gone like a ghost. Don't you see what Moran is doing? He knows this is it for him and maybe even Jim. He knows that he won't make it out of this alive and he's making damn sure to take out as many of your men as he came while keeping your attention on him. He and Moriarty knew you would assume Moriarty would make a break for the airport and I'm telling you he's not. He wants Sherlock and he wants him bad. And Moran is doing what he can to make sure that his friend has the opportunity too. Stop trying to take Moran alive. Kill the bastard and get your asses to wherever Sherlock Holmes is."
"Damn!" Mycroft said. "Tom! Get on your mobile and call the hospital. Sherlock and Molly might be in danger."
"There is no might be Mycroft…they are in danger!" Jack pressed.
"Tom, we need to get to the hospital." Mycroft called as Barnaby had already started towards the door, his mobile in his hand. Mycroft turned to look at Jack. "Jack…I am sorry to ask this of you…I know you're wounded…but…"
Jack smiled. "I'll take care of Moran…just like we used too Mycroft. I'll get him. You go now and save that brother of yours."
The door to Sherlock's hospital room was pushed open slowly and James Moriarty: murderer, kidnapper, terrorist, and resident sociopath entered the room. He made his way to Sherlock's sleeping form as slowly as he had entered the room, relishing the thought of what he was about to do his true arch enemy…the one and only adversary that Moriarty deemed worthy of him. Part of him hated the thought of ending this great man, but he knew that Sherlock would never stop if he didn't. He would hunt Moriarty to the ends of the Earth and farther if it meant getting Molly back.
He stopped beside the bed, his thighs brushing against the cool metal frame. Sherlock was fast asleep, the blankets pulled high around his dark brown hair. Jim smiled one of his funny little smiles and reached for the dagger that he had brought with him. He raised his hand high and had begun to plunge when his brow creased. Something looked a bit off about Sherlock's still prone form.
He looked much smaller than his 6'1 stature should allow laying there and his normally curly brown locks had been straightened. As realization dawned on him and he took a step back, it was too late. She was upon him after tossing the blanket away and rolling towards him. She reached out her arm and struck.
Jim stumbled backward and stared at Molly incredulously. Slowly his hand came up and he pulled the needle from his neck. She stared at him, her expression hard and unmoving as she climbed out of the bed and moved towards him. Before Jim could speak to her, the effects of the amphetamine took hold of him.
He clutched at his neck and chest struggling to breathe. His face colored a bright red as the first pain ripped through his chest. He gripped the table beside the bed trying to remain standing. The nauseas he felt was consuming and he vomited hard, coughing and struggling to gasp for air. Another pain, a searing white hot pain ripped through his chest again and he fell forward falling to his knees. He vomited again so violently that the blood vessels and capillaries burst in his throat mixing blood with the bile.
He could feel his heart rate raising higher and higher, the pounding in his chest moving to his head and through his entire body. The capillaries behind his eyes burst and his vision was blurred by the tiny droplets of blood seeping through his eye sockets. His blood pressure was beyond stroke level and his heart was moving five times its normal speed desperately trying to pump the blood in an attempt to keep up with the drug pumping through his veins.
He looked up at her, the image of her skewed by the blood in his eyes and the pressure in his head. "I…underestimated…you…Molly…my dearest…love…" He gasped out.
"No Jim, you underestimated my love for him. It's always been him and it will always be him." She said, her voice soft, but hard.
Jim collapsed completely to the floor, his body convulsing violently before it stilled. He stared up at her, his eyes glassy underneath the blood. "Glad…it…was…you…" He whispered hoarsely before he convulsed once more and stilled. His chest compressed releasing the last breath that James Moriarty would ever gasp, thusly ending his life.
He lay dead on the floor, his eyes wide open and staring, his mouth contorted in that funny little smile that he always smiled.
Molly barely heard the door being pressed open. She did not look up when Gavin came to stand beside her.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
"Yes. He was going to hurt Sherlock. I knew he'd come for him, so I waited." She said her voice sounding odd and detached.
"He deserved what he got Molly. He was a horrible man and would have continued hurting so many people."
"How did you even know that I was here?" She asked him.
"I heard the buzz that the great Sherlock Holmes had been brought in severely injured. I knew he had to have been hurt rescuing you, so if he was here, then you must be free and more than likely with him. I snuck out of my room and went to the nurses' station and found where his room was."
Molly nodded and looked back at Jim's body. "I pity him." She said suddenly looking up at Gavin. "I do and I know that sounds so strange and even terrible after all that he has done to me, my family, and to countless others. But I do pity him. I can't help but wonder what happened to him to make him the monster that he became."
"He was evil Molly plan and simple." Gavin said trying to hide the disgust from his voice.
"No Gavin, I think it was more than that. No baby is born wicked and cruel. Both he and his brother were so horrible, so vile, and pathetic. No little boy decides he wants to be a murderer, terrorist, and rapist when he grows up. Something happened to them to make them that way and now, we'll never know what it was."
"You are too kind Molly. Much to kind for this world." Gavin said softly, taking her hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze.
The door was shoved open and in ran a flustered John followed by Mycroft and Tom. Molly turned and looked at John. "Is Sherlock alright? Did he wake up?"
John shook his head. "He never knew he was being moved. He's fine and still under sedation." He took a step further and looked down at Jim. "Are you okay Molly?"
She nodded turning her head so that she was looking at Mycroft and Barnaby. "I had too. He would've hurt Sherlock."
Barnaby stepped towards her. "Yes of course. You did the right thing and it was a very braver thing to do Molly."
"What about Sebastian? Is he still alive?" She asked unable to keep the worry from her voice. "He'll blame Sherlock even though I killed Jim, I know he'll blame Sherlock and try to hurt him."
"Sebastian Moran is dead Molly." Mycroft said. "He put a bullet to his head before Jack could get the door open to stop him.
"Jack is okay?" Molly asked, her eyes filling with tears.
"He was shot, but he'll survive. It would take a lot more than that to stop Jack." Mycroft said with a hint of affection in his voice. "I'll have Moriarty moved and sent to the morgue. The Pathologist here can…"
"No, it should be me. I'll take care of Jim's body." Molly said looking back down at him. "It should be me. After everything that has happened…I just…I need this…I need the closure and it's what Jim would've wanted."
Barnaby and Mycroft glanced at one another. "Alright Molly, if you're sure." Mycroft said before sighing. "What a waste of such a brilliant mind." He paused a few moments staring at the lifeless body of Moriarty. "I'll have the body taken to the morgue. Molly are you sure that you're up to this?"
"Yes, I'm fine. I'll be fine. I want to do this." She insisted. "Now if you don't mind, I want to go sit with Sherlock."
"Yes of course." Mycroft said.
"Yes please do." Barnaby answered.
Molly looked back at Gavin and smiled, squeezing his hand before turning and walking out of the room. She walked slowly down the hallway in a daze unaware of the business buzzing around her. She continued walking somberly until she reached the room that John had Sherlock moved too. She opened the door quietly and went inside.
The room was dark except for the small soft light that was coming from the bathroom. She could just make out the shape of his head against the pillow and she noticed that he had stirred.
"Molly…" His tired gravelly voice broke the silence of the hospital room.
She moved quickly to him and he held out his large hand. She placed her hand in his and was surprised at the level of strength at which he gripped it.
"Molly…why did John move me? Is everything alright?" He asked.
"Yes Sherlock, everything is fine now. It's all over."
"Moriarty …" He began.
"Is gone Sherlock." She said. "He's dead. I killed him."
Sherlock's head turned sharply to look at her. His grip tightened even more on her hand and he pulled her down towards him. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Did he put his hands on you?"
"No Sherlock…"She rushed to assure him, stroking his brow with her free hand. "I had too…he was going to hurt you. John said that Barnaby and Mycroft would stop him, but I knew…I knew he would come here for you. I begged John to move you and he did. I waited for Jim and he came, just like I knew that he would…and I killed him."
Sherlock was silent a few moments. "How…are you sure it's done?"
"Yes Sherlock I am sure. He is gone. I was waiting for him with a syringe in my hand with six times what would be a lethal dose of amphetamines. I watched as his heart gave out…I watched his blood vessels constrict and burst. I watched as he convulsed on the floor and vomited blood and bile. He is dead and he can never hurt us again…he'll never hurt anyone again." She stopped and swallowed hard. "And I'm not sorry. I know that's dreadful…I am a doctor…a pathologist and I'm supposed to help people not harm them…but I'm not sorry that I did it." Her face became hard and the fierceness in her eyes surprised Sherlock as she stared down at him. "And I'd do it again…a thousand times over if he meant he could never hurt you again!"
"Molly lay with me." He said as he scooted over as far as he could and raised the blanket for her to climb in. She did so and lay down facing him. As she looked into his face tears filled her eyes. Her eyes roamed over his face and took in the deep gashes and puncture wounds that he had received from protecting her.
"Oh…" She sobbed out holding his face in her hands.
"Molly don't cry. The doctor informs me that there will be minimal scaring and the wounds to my face were not as deep as the wounds on my arms and hands."
She nodded smiling at him and her eyes shown bright for him even through her tears. "I…it's finally over. I just can't believe that it is finally over and I don't have to be afraid anymore. Everyone that I love is safe."
"And there is no need for you to run away any longer Molly, especially not from me." He put an arm around her and pulled her against him. "Promise me that you'll never run from me again…that you'll never leave me again."
"I promise Sherlock." She said softly.
"Tell me you're coming home with me…home to London…to St. Bart's…to Baker Street."
"I promise to come home with you. I'll never leave you again." She said as he kissed her forehead and cheek before tightening his arms around her, pressing her into his chest.
He held her there in his arms, his chin resting on her head as she cried softly, a mixture of relief, sadness, happiness, and exhaustion.
He held her in his arms until sleep overtook her and then he held her even longer.
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