'You must come in alone'

Sherlock couldn't get her voice out of his head, her terrified voice; it sounded nothing like the Molly he knew, her strength seemed deflated, her voice so quiet and hopeless.

Sherlock stepped out of the police car, Donovan and Lestrade watched from the inside, feeling inoperative as they watched him make his way to the cold, grey building, each both trying to conceal their growing dread and worry for the approaching events. Moriarty was back and he was dangerous, equipped with a bomb and a hostage and all they could do was sit back and wait.

As Sherlock dashed towards the large, decrepit doorway of The Brown Mouse, Sherlock knew that there was no going back now, not that he would. Molly was in there, that he was certain, captive and terrified in the extensive underground hideout, with the most treacherous man he had ever met. Sherlock put his hand on the rusty metal door handle and pushed it open with fierce effort. He took a look back to the police car, even at a distance he could tell that they were looking back at him. After a moment, he turned and made his way into the old bookshop. The inside of the building was just as grand and ancient as its exterior; a large marble floor stretched out covered in hundreds of tall, empty bookshelves, reaching up to the marble ceiling. It was an eerie place, dark and foreboding, with not one book in sight. As Sherlock made his way through the narrow paths between the shelves, all he could think about was Molly, his pathologist, the one woman who mattered and will always matter. The one woman he loved. The woman who he will save.

'Moriarty' Sherlock breathed, his utter hatred welling up inside him with such force that he thought he would not be able to contain it, but he knew that he must, for Molly's sake, keep himself calm. The only way to save her was to keep himself focused.

"I said, focus!"

Sherlock felt the remnant of Molly's slap on his cheek. He knew she was right, she was always right. On the other side of the large room was a large, wooden double door. Sherlock made his way through it, checking his watch as he did so, it read 11:37, leaving 23 minutes to find Molly. On the other side of the door was a wide, old fashioned staircase with a sculpted banner. Frustration filled Sherlock as he realized that it wasn't leading the direction he was hoping, to follow it would lead up to the second floor, not below. Sherlock grunted in annoyance as he turned around to head back out the wooden double doors, but as he did so he noticed another, smaller wooden door on his left, between the staircase and the doors. He leaped at it, hopeful and turned the small brass nob; inside was a smaller, dark, narrow stairwell leading down into blackness. Sherlock stared down at it dauntlessly, with a hooked determination. Molly was down there and so was Moriarty, it was time to end this. As Sherlock made his way down the dark stairway as quickly as he could, feeling the walls with his fingertips and trying to remain balanced, a feeling of cold dread began to ferment within him; what if? What if Molly wasn't here? What if the bomb wasn't here? What if he came to the wrong place? What if finding the Brown Mouse Bookshop was just a coincidence? No…

'No, Sherlock' He thought 'it's too late to be asking these questions...focus'

Sherlock was shocked at the disorganization of his mind and the fear that was now consuming it. He reached the last step and was met by a small gleaming light in the distance, down a narrow hallway with stone walls. The light beckoned him onwards, but he was wary, he prepared himself for what he may find next. Sherlock was very relieved as he remembered that he still had John's gun fastened in the back of his trousers, he took it out swiftly and held it out in front of himself, comforted by the protection. As he approached the light, which was coming from an electric lamp, he turned down into another hallway, with another lamp hanging at the end of it in front of a large, grey metal door; Sherlock made his way to it, still holding out the gun. When he reached the door, he checked his watch using the light of the electric lamp to illuminate it, it was 11:40. Sherlock attempted to contain his growing panic, his love for Molly giving him strength that he never knew he had. He turned the knob and opened the metal door; he was met by a blinding white light that forced him to cover his eyes briefly to recover from the sudden brightness. As his eyes refocused, he knew that he had found Moriarty's hideout, the small, confined room had cold, metal walls which were covered in computer and television monitors, Sherlock noticed that some of the screens were monitoring 221b, one had security footage outside the flat, he could see the exterior of Speedy's café and the door of the flat, another screen showed the exterior of St Barts…and another of the morgue, Molly's morgue. 'He had been spying on us all this time' Sherlock thought.

"Glad you could make it" Came a voice from behind him, he turned around to face Moriarty, holding up the gun. "Oh my, Sherlock, why is it that every time we meet you're pointing a gun at me?" He cooed.

"Where is Molly" Sherlock demanded, staring at Moriarty in the eye, unfaltering and stern, Moriarty stared back coldly, his grey eyes piercing and still.

"Where is she!?"Sherlock shouted, losing his patience. Suddenly Sherlock felt something cold on the back of his neck, he heard the familiar click of the hammer of the gun, cocked and ready to fire.

"I would put that gun down if I were you" Came a deep voice from behind him which he didn't recognize. Sherlock held the gun up for a split second more, he would have shot, even if he was killed for it, he would have…if Molly wasn't in danger. He lowered the gun and dropped it on the metal floor with a loud clank. Moriarty stepped forward and kicked it off to the far end of the room, he then nodded at the man behind Sherlock who proceeded to lower his own gun.

"This is Sebastian Moran…by the way Sherlock, I don't believe you've met" Moriarty said with false politeness, like they were being introduced in a social gathering. Sherlock didn't care much for meeting new people.

"Where is she?" Sherlock asked again quietly but just as fierce. "Please" he whispered. Moriarty stared at Sherlock for a moment before starting to laugh quietly; he turned away so that his back was to Sherlock and began to laugh louder and louder until the sound echoed around the room.

"What!?" Sherlock yelled but Moriarty was still laughing…his laugh was so malevolent and smug that Sherlock attempted to lunge at him but was forcefully pulled back by Moran who then punched him in the stomach, as Sherlock fell back in pain, Moran held up the gun again and aimed it down at him. Moriarty had seemed not to notice the outburst, his back was still facing them and his shoulders were dancing with his laughter. After a few moments, the laughing slowly ceased.

"You wouldn't believe how easy it was Sherlock…to dismantle your network, the homeless are just so easily manipulated" He said, turning back to Sherlock, tears of laughter in his eyes, his stare unnerving and austere. "Not too much loyalty" He walked closer to Sherlock and stared down at him with false compassion. "Except for one, he was a cracker he was…Bill Wiggins…" Sherlock looked up at Moriarty in pure hatred as he mentioned Bill. "He was your friend, he held his ground and yours too, just wouldn't surrender, wouldn't betray you" Moriarty shook his head and made a 'tut tut' noise. "So I came up with this fabulous plan Sherlock, you'll love this! What about if Bill Wiggins betrays Sherlock but doesn't even know he's doing it!" He laughed again, the same malicious laugh, Sherlock stared up at him in confusion. "So I thought…how about we plant…an idea…in his head" Moriarty said quietly bending down and tapping his index finger lightly on Sherlock's temple.

"No" Sherlock breathed, realization filling him like lightening, Moriarty stood up again looking down at Sherlock with a cold, cruel smile.

"It wasn't that difficult…all it took was a few hushed conversations outside his cell door giving him information regarding a bomb and a location…and mentioning Molly Hooper a few times…And once the message was received load and clear… oh look who forgot to lock your cell door Billy…you could so easily escape!...Course Seb here couldn't resist playing sniper as he ran off into the sunset" Moriarty laughed evilly. Sherlock was silent for a moment.

"She's not here…" Sherlock whispered, looking at the ground in defeat "There is no bomb"

"Half right. Yes, she's not here" Moriarty said before kneeling down beside him once more and leaning in towards his ear "But there is a bomb…but we're safe here don't you worry"

"MOLLY!" Sherlock yelled as he attempted to get up off the cold metal floor but was met by a hard thump on his shoulder, Moran had hit him forcefully with the gun handle resulting in him falling back onto the metal floor with a thump.

"No" He said, pain filling his voice.

"15 minutes Sherlock!" Moriarty said with excitement looking at his watch. "But I must admit I did break one of the rules of our new game" He said in a quiet false guilty voice. "Don't you remember? I said I wasn't going to give you any clues" Sherlock stared back at him in confusion. "You seriously didn't notice?!" Moriarty laughed "It was sooo obvious! You're slipping Sherlock" Sherlock racked his brain in annoyance trying to remember what clue Moriarty had given him…what did he miss! His panic was rising hopelessly as he imagined Molly waiting for him to save her. Moriarty was still kneeling down, staring at him with entertainment, watching him rattle his brains for the clue.

"Oh I do love to watch you dance" He said with a giggle. "Maybe this will help you remember;

Hickory, Dickory dock…

the mouse ran up the clock …

the clock strikes twelve,

say your farewells.

Hickory, Dickory dock"

Sherlock gasped in realization at his stupidity. Molly was inside…

"Big Ben" He breathed, watching Moriarty fall back in convulsions of laughter once more.