Grace's POV
I wanted to murder him. And, at that time, I was going to. If I didn't die first.
So there I was, hanging on to the cable, 250 feet above the ground, when I knew I had to climb up. I couldn't let Moriarty win.
During his taunts and cursing at me, I slowly—very slowly—inched my way up, or at least started to. I told myself just a little bit more to the window. My arms and legs burned, but I told myself, over and over again, "No. No. You will NOT let him win."
I thought about everything. Why I even started this whole spying thing. Spying on Moriarty just because of a threat. But, I told myself, you did the right thing. It was your brother he threatened. You wanted to save him. You did the right thing.
Then I thought about John. He wouldn't have wanted me to do this. He wouldn't have wanted me to risk my life for him. HE would have thought I was crazy, following Moriarty around. He would be so angry.
But then, I thought, what if I died? Poor John. How stupid is Gracie! I knew he would think that. I just knew he would. He would be furious. At least then, maybe Sherlock and John would have the drive to want to try to kill Moriarty.
Moriarty. He—hewas the one who caused all of this hurt. He was the one who threatened John. Who started all of this. He was the one who was torturing that poor person. HE was the one who was pushing the cable and hoping I would fall off and die. I hated Moriarty—yet I kept trying to spy on him and follow him. I could figure out EVERYTHING about the current case, yet I could figure out why I kept following him.
This pain and anger drove me upwards. I started to reach for the window…And Moriarty pushed the cable. HARD. I was fighting for the window, but my right hand slipped on the cable. I grabbed it with my left hand, hanging on barely.
But something happened—I was pulled in the house. By Moriarty.