Taking A Stand

Tainted Hero

 Months later, the day of Sherlock's sentencing, Molly finishes work and rushes to the prison to visit with him.

Sherlock is brought into the visitor's room wearing handcuffs and is then handcuffed to a table. "Molly..." He looks rough and has stubble growing.

"Hi...I didn't watch the news because I don't want to see all the people who dislike you slamming you and such. I wanted to come to the sentencing today, but I had work and...I don't know if I could've handled it...," she says softly and tears up.

He nods slowly. "Before I tell you the outcome, do you have the journal of my cases and the people I've saved?"

"I do..."

May I see it?

"Of course" She takes it out of her bag and hands it to him gently.

Sherlock looks through it nonchalantly and murmurs to her. "So I got twenty-five years to life, with the possibility of parole."

Molly gasps and covers her mouth, tears filling her eyes and blurring her vision, the air sucked out of her lungs for a few moments. "Oh, Sherlock...no!! No, you can't...they can't! I'm so sorry...I tried my best", her voice cracks.

"I know, Molly, and it's not your fault, don't be ridiculous, hm?" Sherlock continues to look through the book, avoiding her gaze.

"I-I wrote descriptions and as many names as I could get to cover you...for some reason...just-I don't know, I guess in case this happened and...it didn't even work..."

"Criminals have connections just as much as I have. I suppose the old trick still works. Magnussen's family lawyer rigged the jury. He was the king of blackmail, where do you think he learned it from? The same family that has their own personal lawyer that they pay pretty heftily. The jurors had no choice. If there's a certain group of people I can always read with ease, it's jurors. Their feelings are written on their face, in their clothes, in the way they fidget."

"Oh my God...do you have proof? We could get you out of here Sherlock!"

"What's the point, Molly? I don't exactly have Mycroft on my side to take care of the legal stuff. There's no proof to be had and nothing to be done."

"What?? What's the point?? You wouldn't have to rot in here for trying to protect our friends!"

"I've made my peace...it's alright, Molly. Really." For the first time, he raises his eyes to look directly into hers. They swirl with a hint of determination, not matching his words and she's taken aback, slightly confused.

"Your friends haven't...I haven't." Molly reaches over and places a hand on his cuffed one.

"We're not letting this go without a fight. You're not a quitter. Don't you dare quit now."

"John's moved on. He's happy now. London doesn't need Sherlock Holmes anymore; they've proven that today. They need more people like you Molly Hooper, more people that actually care."

"John may have gotten married and started a family, but you're still his best friend and mine, and Mary is very fond of you too, you know that. Greg is still on your side as well. London will always need Sherlock Holmes. Always. And once it's too late, everyone will see that..."

Sherlock hands the journal back to her* "You need to move on too you know."

"Me? I'm fine as I am Sherlock, but I won't let you just rot in here. If I have to, I'll prove that they manipulated the jury. I'm no you, but I can try."

Sherlock sighs softly and looks over her face. "What was going to be your answer?"

"My answer? To...how I'll prove it?"