A/N- This took forever and I apologise... but it's here finally so enjoy :)
This hasn't been edited yet...
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Darcy's POV
He didn't look anything like he normally did. His casual attire was nowhere near as intimidating as when he wore a suit. And he was carrying... a shopping bag?
I kept myself hidden in the limited darkness of the jennel, with my wrists still handcuffed together, as I didn't want to get myself into an even worse situation. The fact he wasn't wearing his Westwood suit had me worried about what he had planned.
"Why are you dressed like that?" I asked sceptically and tried to appear confident in front of him but he could see right through me. I don't know why I even bothered I knew very well I couldn't lie in front of him.
He looked down at the red cardigan and white t-shirt he was wearing along with some black jeans. "What do you mean?" Moriarty questioned but not in his intimidating tone, much like his attire, he spoke casually. I frowned at him as he gestured to the set of handcuffs around my wrists. "You'll probably need to get out of those though."
When Moriarty put his shopping bag down and stepped toward me I instinctively took a step away from him. "Do you want my help or not?" He asked and took what looked like a hair grip from the pocket of his cardigan.
I huffed and held my restrained hands out to him with a disinterested look on my face. Moriarty prepped the hair grip and set about picking the lock, it took him all of a few seconds to accomplish and the handcuffs fell from my wrists to clatter to the floor. "There we go, much better." He said in cheery tone that was very out of place for him and he turned to pick up his shopping bag again. "Do you need somewhere to stay, I live just down the road?" He asked in what sounded like a sincere tone as he looked back over at me.
Apprehensively I stepped out of the shadows and wanted to question why he was acting so weird. Well, weird for him. It was then that he held his hand out to me and smiled, actually smiled. "I'm Richard, by the way, Richard Brook." Moriarty introduced himself as though he were a completely different person.
"What? No, no-" I stammered and then stopped myself to look directly at Moriarty. "I'm not doing this. Not again." I spoke firmly and walked out of the jennel my shoulder brushing past Moriarty's as I did.
"Doing what again?" Moriarty called after me and I stopped walking then turned to face him. He was just staring at me and his posture was all wrong, he was slumped forward slightly and the hand that wasn't holding the shopping bag was in the pocket of his cardigan.
I squinted my eyes at him and for a split second I actually believed that this man wasn't Moriarty but Richard Brook. But then I remembered that that is exactly what he wanted and shook my head before walking away again. "Nope, not doing it." I put my hands up in surrender and stepped onto the pavement.
"Wait!" Moriarty blurted out as I started to walk down the street and I heard him walking quickly after me. "Do you need somewhere to stay or-?"
I put my hand up and shook it. "No, I'm good, thanks." I said as I glanced over my shoulder to see Moriarty jogging- actually jogging- after me.
He managed to catch up and then stood in front of me stopping me in my tracks. "You're wandering around London alone, that's not safe." Moriarty spoke and the ruse he had been using in his voice faltered.
I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows at him. "Why are you doing this? It's ridiculous."
Moriarty glared at me slightly and I smiled at the fact I had managed to get him to drop his attempts at manipulating me. "Fine, evidently I can't pull this trick with you." His hand came out of the pocket of his cardigan and his face became stern. "Come with me." With that he turned away from me and took a step to walk.
"No." I stated and Moriarty stopped in his tracks. "What do you think I am, an idiot?" I added humourlessly and watched as he slowly turned back around to face me.
His expression was stern yet full of arrogance as always. "Do you have your phone on you?" Moriarty asked rather nonchalantly for my liking. I shook my head and then glanced around the empty street we were stood on. "No? Have you been answering your phone?" Again, I shook my head only to have Moriarty smirk at me. "So you don't know?"
I fought the urge but I had to ask. "Know what?" My voice was monotone and disinterested. I looked around at the street again to see if anyone was around, just in case this went sour, but unfortunately there were no witnesses.
And no sign of Sherlock and John either. They can't have gotten that far.
"He must have been calling you, a lot. Why wouldn't he?" Moriarty commented of handedly and took a step towards me whilst the glare he was giving me intensified. "It was such an important decision after all." He spoke cryptically and his eyes rolled up into his head slightly in an extremely menacing way before they came right back to look at me.
I sighed and closed my eyes very briefly to compose myself before doing exactly what he wanted which was ask again, "What was?"
But Moriarty didn't answer and just turned around to walk away again. I rolled my eyes and took one final look around, as one last ditch attempt, to see if Sherlock and John had miraculously appeared. They would know what to do. In fact they'd stop me and make me see sense. I watched as Moriarty walked down the street away from me.
I clenched my fists at my side and took a breath before begrudgingly following after Moriarty. He wasn't inherently a fast walker as he tended to strut more than walk as a way to show off his position of so-called power. I managed to catch up with him easily and I kicked myself for following him but I had the sneaking suspicion that all of this was connected. Of course it was.
Moriarty can't have just stumbled across me by accident.
"Joining me?" He quipped as I walked by his side and we turned down a different street.
I just put my hands in the pockets of my jeans in an effort to keep myself warm and retorted with, "You know Scott has been calling me all evening. How?"
"After his Father was killed and the body mysteriously disappeared-" Moriarty started to explain nonchalantly and the carrier bag swung in his hand.
"Yes, mysteriously." I interrupted him and purposefully looked away as I knew he would be glaring at me.
I heard him sigh quietly before he continued, "Scott inherited his Father's business but I guess he had other things on his mind instead." Purposefully Moriarty stopped speaking to remind me that he had the upper hand in the conversation and wasn't just going to give everything up all in one go. He was going to annoy me first.
"Meaning?" I pressed him for information as we continued to walk down the street and I wanted to learn all he knew before he got to where he was taking me so I could get away before then. But I was thinking too optimistically.
Moriarty gave me a sideways glance before focusing back on the street. "It's rather difficult to run a business when you are a habitual womaniser." Was all he said to answer and then stopped walking as we reached a specific house.
My jaw clenched for a moment but then I remembered that it was none of my business who Scott was seeing or what he was doing with his life. Alright I suppose I was somewhat interested about specifically why he had given up his Father's business.
By the time I had thought this through Moriarty was halfway up the path to the house and he had stopped to make sure I hadn't left. He didn't say anything and just gave me a stern glare. When I looked up at the house it didn't look like anything special.
In fact it looked like every other house on the street. Plain, ordinary, uninteresting. So, what was so special about it?
"Get a move on." Moriarty uttered sternly and then glanced up at the light that was switched on in the living room of the house. I had a moment where I considered running but then Moriarty added, "You will walk inside this house and play along or I can have Moran give Scott the same poetic justice his Father got. Nobody quits on me, you understand?" He seethed and his face was contorted with rage.
I huffed and rolled my eyes before following after him as he walked up to the door of the house. His demeanour changed back to what it was when he supposedly found me earlier when he opened the door to the house.
Apprehensively I entered the house behind him and was met with a corridor, a rather cluttered corridor. "Shut the door." Moriarty spoke casually and I my hand went back to push the door closed. "Love, I brought a straggler home. Hope you don't mind if she stays the night, she's a friend." He called into the house and I frowned at the back of his head as we walked down the corridor towards another room.
Moriarty raised his eyebrows at me briefly before getting back into character and opening the door to the room. "Darling, they didn't have any ground coffee so I just got normal..." He said and then trailed off when he entered the room.
From where I was still stood in the corridor I could see his eyes widen at something or someone. I watched as he dropped the shopping bag and stumbled back into the wall behind him, his hands came up to his face as if he was protecting himself. "You said that they wouldn't find me here. You said that I'd be safe here. It's why I brought her here." His voice was panic stricken and trembling.
I carefully took a step into what looked like a living room and made eye contact with someone across the room the journalist. The one that had spoken to me before the trial. The one who was obsessed with Sherlock.
"You are safe, Richard. You both are." The journalist insisted and I frowned at what she had called him. "I'm a witness. He wouldn't harm you in front of witnesses." She then looked at me and waved me further into the living room. "Come in, Darcy, isn't it?"
Cautiously I took another step into the room and closed the door behind me only to see Sherlock and John stood in the middle of the living room. Both of them were looking very angry, very angry indeed. But I wasn't sure whether it was anger at me or the fact that Moriarty was stood next to me.
"So that's your source?" John exploded and pointed accusingly at Moriarty. "Moriarty is Richard Brook?!" He then raised an eyebrow at me accusingly and I just stared back at him as I didn't really understand what I had just walked in on.
The journalist looked between Sherlock and John, then over at Moriarty. "Of course he's Richard Brook. There is no Moriarty. There never has been."
"Sorry, what's going on?" I asked tentatively and quietly but Moriarty just looked over at me. Then I remembered what he had told me outside.
John shook his head and looked back at the journalist. "What are you talking about?" He asked her sternly whereas Sherlock just held an expression that was a mixture between confusion and anger.
"Look him up. Rich Brook- an actor Sherlock Holmes hired to be Moriarty." The journalist announced with such a convincing tone that for a split second even I believed her.
Moriarty looked at all of us nervously as Sherlock just stared at him and I tried to distance myself away from Moriarty as much as I could. "Doctor Watson, I know you're a good man." Moriarty spoke and put his hands up in surrender to back up closer to me as John glared in a way that even I had never seen him do so before. "Don't... don't h... Don't hurt me." Moriarty added in a stutter.
John then pointed furiously at Moriarty and yelled, "No, you are Moriarty!" His head turned to shout at the journalist briefly, "He's Moriarty!" When he looked back over to us his eyes looked to be red with anger. "We've met, remember?You were gonna blow me up! What next? Are you going to tell me she's an actor as well?" John gestured to me and I threw my hands up in the air.
I wanted to scream, I wanted to tell John the truth but I looked over as Moriarty pretended to act scared and then he covered his face with his hands. I had to wonder whether he was hiding a smile or fake tears.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Moriarty uttered and then indicated over to Sherlock with his hands. "He paid us. We needed the work. I'm an actor. We were out of work. I'm sorry, okay? Just leave us out of this!"
I raised an eyebrow at Moriarty and opened my mouth to speak but then closed again when I felt like a codfish. No words came out.
"Sherlock, you'd better..." John said through gritted teeth and turned to his friend, "...explain... because I'm not getting this."
The way John looked at me in that moment, full of anger and disappointment even though I hadn't done anything. This is what Moriarty wanted and it dawned on me. I ran my hands through my hair and turned my back to the group.
"Oh I'll... I'll be doing the explaining- in print." I heard the journalist woman say and I turned back to see her handing John a folder. "It's all here- conclusive proof."
As John read through whatever was in the folder, out of the corner of my eye I saw Moriarty smirking at me slightly. I glared back at him and stepped towards John with my hand held out. "Let me see." I stated and could feel Moriarty's gaze burning into the back of my head. John refused at first but I smiled slightly and added, "Please."
John sighed and dropped the folder in my hand. Inside was a copy of newspaper article with a headline ready to be printed but without the pictures. Which read, 'Sherlock's a fake!' with the line, 'He invented all the crimes' underneath.
"You invented James Moriarty, your nemesis. And your little sidekick." The journalist spoke accusingly at Sherlock and moved to stand beside me.
"Invented them?" John question sounding close to tears whether of sadness or pure anger.
The journalist mumbled a yes and then answered, "Invented all the crimes, actually- and to cap it all, you made up a master villain."
"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" John huffed and frowned at the journalist.
She pointed over her shoulder and I moved away from her. "Ask them. They're right here! Just ask him. Tell him, Richard."
Moriarty had manipulated her. He'd gained access to the media through her and with all the connections he had anyway, it would work.
"Look, for God's sake, this man was on trial!" John exclaimed and again furiously pointed at Moriarty. John then looked at me desperately and added in a softer tone, "We saw it."
The journalist nodded at John and said, "Yes..." She then swung her arm around to point at Sherlock, "...and you paid him, paid him to take the rap. Promised you'd rig the jury."
Sherlock just stared at the woman as she continued speaking, "Not exactly a West End role, but I'll bet the money was good." I cringed as she walked by me to put her arm around Moriarty. "But not so good that he didn't want to sell their story."
"I am sorry. I am. I am sorry." Moriarty pleaded and put his hands together in front of him.
I clenched my fists together and thats when I realised I couldn't do it anymore.No matter whatever the journalist believe or what Moriarty wanted me to say to mess with Sherlock's head I couldn't do it. "Sorry?! You killed my parents!" I exclaimed and took a step closer to Sherlock so I could look at the criminal properly.
"It's a backstory! Our backstory! We're actors..." Moriarty trailed off and looked over at me subtly trying to give me the message.
The message that he would kill Scott if I didn't do this but this wasn't about me or Scott. This was about Sherlock. Sherlock's life and his career, all of it. I played no part in Sherlock's life until I stumbled across the pink woman in Brixton. If anything I had made everything even more messed up than it needed to be and I wasn't going to let it happen again.
"Oh, shut up!" I virtually screamed and pulled at my hair whilst turning away from him.
"So-so this is the story you're gonna publish." John said to the journalist and yet when I turned back he was looking at me briefly out of the corner of his eye every so often. "The big conclusion of it all, Moriarty's an actor?!" He added disdainfully and shook his head in disbelief.
Moriarty's eyes widened, obviously it was fake, and he gestured to Sherlock again as he pleaded, "He knows I am. I have proof. I have proof. Show him, Kitty! Show him something!"
Kitty. So her name was Kitty. At least I knew the area to look in the newspaper when her inevitable obituary appeared. Should this plan fail Moriarty would no doubt kill her.
"Yeah, show me something." John stated and Kitty walked across the room to get something. John watched her as she did but I kept my gaze firmly on Moriarty as he revealed his true self by smiling at Sherlock.
He was proving to Sherlock that he had won. I watched as Sherlock returned a minimal smile but there was no emotion behind it, nothing.
Moriarty then gave me a look. A look that I knew meant that Scott was already dead. But that look disappeared when Kitty turned back to the group.
Kitty walked over and gave another folder to John who looked through what was inside thoroughly. Meanwhile, Moriarty had returned to his full Richard persona and spoke in a panicked tone, "I'm on kids' TV. I'm on kids' TV. I'm the Storyteller. I'm... I'm the Storyteller. It's on DVD."
As John continued to frantically read whatever was in the folder Moriarty gestured to John and gave Sherlock a pleading look as he spoke, "Just tell him. It's all coming out now. It's all over." His voice then became more panicked. "Just tell them. Just tell them. Tell him!"
My fists clenched as Sherlock bared his teeth at Moriarty who continued speaking, "It's all over now..." Sherlock then took a menacing step towards Moriarty who jumped back onto the small set of steps to the upper level of the flat and he screamed out, "NO! Don't you touch me! Don't you lay a finger on me!"
"Stop it. Stop it NOW!" Sherlock shouted furiously which caused my to flinch slightly.
Moriarty then lowered his arms that he had raised in front of him and turned on the steps to rush up them. "Don't hurt me!"
Both Sherlock and John immediately went after him. "Don't let him get away!" John shouted as Sherlock hurried up the steps first.
Kitty then joined in the action and followed John up the steps shouting, "Leave him alone!"
I barely had time to do anything before Moriarty had slammed the door to what must have been the bathroom shut and Sherlock struggled for a moment before he managed to open it. I stood on the bottom step to see that the bathroom was empty and the window was open. All we heard afterwards was a muffled crashing sound.
"Are we going after him?" I asked and put my foot on the next step up to be ready in case it was decided what the plan was.
Sherlock came out the bathroom after checking the window and answered, "No, no, no. He'll have back up."
I walked back down the steps as Sherlock approached but Kitty didn't move out of the way as quickly and she purposefully back down to the steps to slow him down. He stopped at the bottom of the steps as Kitty sneered in his face, "D'you know what, Sherlock Holmes? I look at you now and I can read you. And you... repel... me."
In response to that Sherlock turned and walked out the flat without saying another word. I stood there with a mixture of anger and shock flooding through me. John made his way down the steps and pushed Kitty aside so he could follow Sherlock out, the folder she had given him was still in his hand.
I dashed after him as Kitty moved to shut the door and in her haste seemed to have forgotten I was there. But she noticed me once I stood by the door and she held it open as I darted out. Just as I made it into the corridor the door slammed shut behind me.
John was just leaving the building and I ran after him, then politely closed the door to the building behind me as I left, and joined them in walking out into the street.
"Can he do that? Completely change his identity; make you the criminal?" John asked desperately as he walked at Sherlock's side.
I had to jog a little to keep up with their angry, fast-paced walking. "He's manipulated people before." I commented and tried my best to keep up. Despite his short legs John walked fast when he was mad.
John just gave me a look as he stopped walking whereas Sherlock just started pacing back and forth. "He's got my whole life story. That's what you do when you sell a big lie; you wrap it up in the truth to make it more palatable." Sherlock ranted and moved his arms about as he paced.
I stood beside John and looked at the documents in the folder as he flicked through them. They were all images of Moriarty and the so-called television shows he had appeared in.
"It's your word against his." John reminded Sherlock who was pacing quite far up and down the street to let off some steam.
I crossed my arms and let out a sigh. "Everything he has been doing the last twenty-four hours." I said in realisation with my eyes wide and lowered my arms to rest my hands on my hips.
Sherlock walked past us again and agreed with me, "He's been sowing doubt into people's minds. There's only one thing he needs to do to complete his game, and that's to..." Sherlock stopped suddenly and stared at the end of the street and stood facing away from myself and John.
"Sherlock?" I spoke in a questioning manner and took a step closer to him but he kept his back to us.
All he did was say, somewhat ominously, "Something I need to do."
"What?" John asked quickly and put down the papers to step forwards as well. "Can we help?"
Sherlock replied in an instant, "No-on my own." With that he walked hastily away from us and I watched him purposefully walk down the street.
John sighed and turned to give me a look, he then thrust the papers into my hands. "Thanks." I said sarcastically as he looked down the opposite end of the street.
"Did you know?" He then asked rather sternly and I knew he was trying to keep composed. I didn't know what to say at first and so he reiterated, "Before this happened did you have any idea?"
It was my turn to sigh and I dropped the hand that was holding the papers to my side. "Of course not. I managed to get away from the police and my hands were still cuffed. Moriarty stumbled across me and brought me to the house, just told me to go along with it or else he'd kill Scott. At first I went with it but when he denied murdering my parents it just got too much."
"Right..." John nodded and put his hands on his hips. "Mycroft." He then stated after a brief moment of thought.
I realised what he was on about and I gestured at him with the papers. "The only person who could know Sherlock's life story. Because I don't and you certainly don't." I mused aloud and slapped the papers on my other hand.
John took the papers of me and smiled quite menacingly. "We need to get a cab."
As he walked down the street in the opposite direction to Sherlock I thought for a second about whether Moriarty had gone through with his threat. Whether in a couple of days or less the second murder in the Livingstone family would be front page news.
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So I got writer's block about halfway through which is why this took so long but what did you think? It's not my best work and I deliberated for a long time with the direction to take it... but here's what I ended up with I suppose.
Thank you to Ariane DeVere on Dreamwidth for writing the transcript, it's much appreciated. Also, thanks to you lot for sticking with me...
Pleeeease vote and comment, thank you ;)
-HBH xxxx
Disclaimer- I don't own any of the character, except Darcy and Scott, or any lines from the show. Those rights belong to the BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.