•Teenlock•Parentlock• If All Else Fails

9• The Death

Sherlock didn't stop for the red light. He didn't stop for his phone ringing in his pocket. He didn't stop when he deduced it was Greg. Sherlock had to get to his friend. If Irene died, Sherlock would never forgive himself. A tiny voice at the back of his head told him that this was a bad idea. He couldn't hear that voice over a much louder one that screamed, 'Irene is dying. Hurry up.'

Sherlock finally got to the old wear house he knew Motiarty had been filming from. He thanked for his mind palace, and gripped the pistol in his coat pocket.

John heard a door opened and panicked. "Stick to the bloody plan." Sebastian hissed at him, slapping his already bloody face. John groaned.

"Sherlock?" He whimpered.

"Your Sherlock will die if you don't do what we've told you." Sebastian spat, leaving the room.

Sherlock burst through the door, his gun in his hand. "Hello Sherlock." Moriarty smiled. "Welcome to my palace." He gestured around him.

"Where's Irene?" Sherlock asked. He aimed the gun at Moriarty's head. Jim looked confused for a moment.

"Oh, our little actress!" He laughed, Sherlocks face fell. "Adler, darling!" He called. "Irene come here!"

Irene came out of the shadows, tears streaming down her face leaving ugly mascara stains on her pale face. Sherlock gasped, hurt. He knew Irene was capable of some serious things, but this; this was a world he'd never wanted to enter. He had been tricked.

"I never wanted any of this." Irene sobbed. "I only wanted you." She fell to her knees and wailed into her hands.

"You got me." Sherlock snarled, glaring at her. "Happy? I'm trapped here I suppose?" He asked Moriarty.

"No no!" Jim laughed, "you, mr Holmes are free to go! But we'll be holding onto your boyfriend."

Sebastian pushed the chair that held John into Sherlocks view. Sherlock gasped and momentarily forgot the situation. All he saw was his injured, frightened John and he knew he needed to change this.

"Thank you, Seb." Moriarty's Irish accent was full of love and praise for his assistant. Sherlock noted this.

"This is it Sherlock." Moriarty smiled. "Make you decision. It's you or him, darling." A single tear fell from Sherlock's eye, and fell to the ground once it slid down his cheekbone. Sherlock knew what he had to do.

Without thinking, he raised the gun and pulled the trigger.

Sebastian Moran fell, blood trickling from his chest.