Sherlock swore under his breath as Molly walked in. He could tell she was trying to look brave, but she couldn't quite pull it off.
"Hello, Jim." She said in a monotone.
"Hi, Molly." Jim said, "pleasure to see you again."
"Wish I could say the s-same." Molly forced out.
She was hiding her emotions pretty well, for her. Sherlock glared at Jim, who lowered his gun.
"A little minx, isn't she, Sherrrlock." Jim smirked at Sherlock, who clenched his jaw.
"What do you want?" Molly asked apprehensively.
"Didn't you hear me?" Jim took a step closer to her. "I want you."
Molly backed up a few feet. "How about...no."
"Mmmm, how about you don't have a choice, darling." Jim's smile widened.
"No. You, you were dead. You aren't r-real." Molly was beginning to crack under the stress.
Moriarty laughed. "I'm perfectly alive, thank you. And you're mine, Molly Hooper, you belong to Jim Moriarty."
Molly thought for a moment. Then she flung herself at Jim, aiming to knock him over. "Run, Sherlock!" She cried out as she collided with Jim.
Molly was too light. Jim stumbled a bit, but easily caught her.
"Sorry, darling, I've still got another surprise for you two."
Sherlock reached out to help Molly, but Moriarty held the gun up to her forehead. "There's a certain ex-army doctor on his way home, yes?"
Molly paled. "No."
Jim laughed. "You're a terrible liar. Unfortunately, if you don't listen to me, I've got my good friend Seb trailing him. He can easily arrange a little...accident for Johnny boy."
Molly knew when she was beaten. "What must I do?" She asked quietly, looking down at the scuffed floor.
There was a clatter of footsteps downstairs. Jim turned, annoyed.
John took the stairs two at a time. He wasn't sure what to expect. Was Moriarty actually there, threatening Sherlock? And had he hurt Molly? Taking a deep breath, he ran into the first room on the left.
"Hi, John." Molly said, quite calmly, considering Moriarty had a gun pressed to her face.
"Sherlock, what's going on?" John asked uncertainly.
Jim quickly lowered the gun. "Nothing much, John. Molly and I are back together, and Sherlock and yourself are going to leave us alone, that's about it."
John looked questioningly to Molly, who was glaring at the floor. She shook her head slightly.
John's hand went to his pocket, but his gun was back at Baker Street. Molly suddenly ran for the door.
Jim sighed and fired his gun into the air twice.
Molly skidded into the doorframe to stop herself. Who had he shot? She turned to find both John and Sherlock totally fine and Jim with a smug smile.
"That was a warning, darling, come on back before I stop feeling generous."
Molly felt a wave of despair threaten to crush her.
Jim tried to suppress a smile. "Don't look so upset, Mols, it'll be just like old times."
Molly was too tired to do anything other than agree. "John," her voice shook, and she couldn't bear to address Sherlock directly. "You should take Sherlock and go."
Sherlock looked at her, shocked. "Molly, you can't-"
"Just...go." Molly hung her head.
John knew there was nothing he could do. "You...take care, Molly."
Sherlock closed the distance between him and Jim in two short strides. "I swear, if you hurt her, I will ensure you face the worst torture possible." He swept out of the room, flipping up the collar of his coat. John followed close behind, casting one last worried glance at Molly.
