Brilliant {A BBC Sherlock Fanfic}

Tipping Point

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE: TIPPING POINT

~St. Bartholomew’s Hospital~

Molly came out of the small side room in her favourite lab, switching off the lights. She walked across the dark room, sighing tiredly. As she reached the door leading out to the corridor, she heard a voice behind her say, “You’re wrong, you know.”

Molly gasped, jumping slightly and turning around to see the voice’s source—none other than the dark haired Sherlock Holmes.

“You do count.” Sherlock continued on quietly, “You’ve always counted and I’ve always trusted you.” He turned look at her, “But you were right. I’m not okay.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Molly said softly.

“Molly,” Sherlock said, walking towards her, “I think I’m going to die.”

“What do you need?” asked Molly in concern.

“If I wasn’t everything that you think I am,” Sherlock said, still walking towards her, “everything that I think I am—would you still want to help me?” His voice wavered in pain, and tears watered in his eyes.

Sherlock had undoubtedly brought this upon himself—he’d let sentiment get the better of him, the thought of losing Amelia’s unbearable to him. She was truly brilliant, and he’d let that blind him. He’d fallen for her just as she had fallen for him. What he was about to do would break Amelia’s heart, possibly forever. But she’d be safe—from him and from Moriarty.

“What do you need?” Molly said, looking up at Sherlock as he stopped in front of her.

Sherlock stepped even closer to her, “You.”

~Diogenes Club~

Mycroft walked across the common room and into a smaller private room, reaching to close the door handle. He stopped as he realised Amelia was sitting in one of the armchairs, her feet kicked up onto a side table as she idly flipped through Kitty’s file, John sitting beside her.

“She has really done her homework, Ms. Riley—things that only someone close to Sherlock could know.” Amelia remarked casually, narrowing her eyes at her colleague.

“Ah.” Mycroft said, closing the door.

“Have you seen your brother’s address book lately?” Amelia questioned tightly, “Three names: yours, John’s, and mine, and Moriarty sure as hell didn’t get this stuff from John or me.”

Mycroft walked across the room, looking at Amelia, “Amelia…”

“So how does it work, then, your relationship?” Amelia hissed, “D’you go out for a coffee now and then, eh, you and James?” She bared her teeth as Mycroft said down in the chair opposite to Amelia, Amelia lowering her feet to lean forward and glare at Mycroft. “Your own brother, and you blabbed about his entire life to this maniac.”

“I never inten—I never dreamt…”

Amelia rolled her eyes, interrupting him, “So this…th-th-this…is what you were trying to tell John, isn’t it: ‘Watch their backs, ’cause I’ve made a mistake.’” She clasped her hands, “You helped me bring down Moriarty, and now you’re working with him?!” She slammed the file down on the table, leaning back into her chair as she tried to stay calm. “How did this start?”

Mycroft drew in a long breath tiredly, “People like him: we know about them; we watch them. But James Moriarty…the most dangerous criminal mind the world has ever seen, and in his pocket the ultimate weapon: a key code. A few lines of computer code that could unlock any door.”