And then there was three; a Sherlock Fanfiction

Twenty-two

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock stopped in his tracks, glaring at Lilly with cold eyes. Something shifted behind him and, as it moved into view, Lilly realized it was John. Her heart dropped, but she held her gun steady.

Sherlock was silent; John made an indistinguishable noise in the back of his throat, as if he might have been attempting to say something, but was unable. A suffocating silence filled the room, but Lilly didn't dare break it.

Finally, Sherlock brought it to an end; "what are you doing here?" he asked spitefully. It sounded much more like a demand for a confession than a request for clarification.

Lilly stood still. Now she was trying to prolong the silence for as long as possible before giving into Sherlock's demand.

"I work for your brother," Lilly sighed, lowering the gun and averting her eyes from the hateful gaze of Sherlock and the disbelieving ones of John, "he gave me a position years ago, right out of university. I was just giving him my annual report,"

"We figured that much out ourselves," John said, looking betrayed, "what I'd like to know is why you lied to us?"

Lilly stalled again, though she knew that the truth would be inevitable.

"Because that's not all, is it?" Sherlock said bitterly, keeping his gun still. It was pointed at her heart, and judging by the glare he was sending her, Lilly had no trouble imagining that he would easily shoot her if she ran.

Finally, Lilly shook her head guiltily, "I was an undercover. Actually I still am- sort of." Her voice was horse, but she pushed on,

"Being an undercover can be tricky: many UCs lose themselves while on the job. When I was first recruited, Mycroft helped me train. I was very fond of the work, and excelled in many different areas. I grew especially– obsessed, with the study the criminal mind while with Mycroft. I was very interested in one criminal in particular, actually. All of us were intrigued by him really, he was brilliant," she hesitated and looked into the accusing eyes of Sherlock Holmes; she could tell he already knew what she was going to say, but he was waiting.

"Moriarty was the most brilliant criminal I had ever encountered." John's jaw dropped, but Lilly continued, too far in her confession to stop,

"I was offered an undercover position to pick the brain of James Moriarty after a couple years in the organization and accepted it wholeheartedly. The assignment started out small: I fed him information that Mycroft had given me through Moriarty's men. I met with the same guys for months before I was actually put into contact with Jim himself. After I first met him, though, I only spoke with him. I would spend hours with Moriarty, and then I'd go back and give a full report to your brother on everything I'd encountered. It felt like I was splitting into two different people, and in a way, I think I was. The human brain can only take so much strain, and, like I said earlier, it is not uncommon for a UC to completely lose themselves while they're undercover. Truthfully, it was only a matter of time before the two separate personas of mine collided and I'd be forced to choose who I wanted to be.

It all started when Moriarty asked me to get some information for him that Mycroft didn't want to give. This was an extremely difficult time for me, and I felt like two different halves of my self were battling for control. Ultimately, all those months alone with Moriarty, when I thought that I had the upper hand, he had been quietly and subtly spinning his intricate web in my mind. He was brainwashing me in such a complicated and marvelous fashion,
that when the time came, I was the perfect subject, and I gave him the information anyways. When they found out, Mycroft and the government were furious–I thought I was going to be hanged for treason– so I did the only thing I could think of doing: I told Moriarty."

Sherlock didn't move, keeping his face cold and unfeeling. He refused to give away any emotion, becoming utterly unreadable.

Lilly took a sharp breath before continuing, "that was probably an even more foolish move, but he told me that I'd been on surveillance for months and that he was well aware of my allegiance with 'the Ice Man'. But he said that I'd proved myself, and took me under his wing. He trained me to shoot, to steal, to kill; Mycroft was a brilliant teacher, but Moriarty was better. He taught me to be ruthless and to take what I want. Life was definitely more exciting on his side, although that may not be a good thing. I felt that Moriarty had shown me mercy when, I thought, Mycroft would have killed me, so I became bitter, which fueled my anger and passion for my new work. I was there for almost five years, working as an assassin, a mediator, or whatever else Moriarty needed. I did anything he told me to: I was, like I said, brainwashed." She took another shaky breath, but then steeled herself,

"One day, Jim gave me the file of my next target: the Holmes boys. He was testing me, of course, but I thought I could handle it. I was wrong, obviously, and when got to Mycroft's office, I couldn't do it. I gave myself up, told him everything, and instead of turning me in, he helped me pack up and leave the country. We faked my death, I got a new identity, and he helped me move to Montana. Mycroft saved my life after I betrayed him; if it wasn't for him I'd be dead right now,"

She bit her lip, "I continued to work for Mycroft in America with some of his other contacts, and they really worked hard to return me to my prior self, until your brother discovered a wedding invitation with my name on it and we both decided I was ready to come back here,"

Her eyes pleaded with Sherlock, but were met with only hatred, "what's your name?"

"It's Lilly, Sherlock," she said, "I didn't lie about that. I really am the same Lilly you grew up with John," her eyes flicked to those of her hurt friend.

"So this was all a job set up by my ridiculous brother," Sherlock spat.

"No, no of course not. I mean, yes, at first it was mostly because of my job, but I enjoyed every minute of the last few months. Mycroft was going to remove me from the operation a while ago– after the accident actually, but I refused," she turned to John, "Please, you have to believe me,"

"No," Sherlock said, not giving John any time to respond, "I should have known that this was all a trick, an elaborate game that my brother orchestrated so perfectly. Bravo, really, superb acting skills, Moriarty must have taught you well," his voice was slick with venom, regarding Lilly with utter disgust, like she was some foul and evil creature that he'd just witnessed climb out from underneath a rock.

Her stomach churned, giving her the sensation that she might hurl. Only Sherlock's eyes moved, scanning her up and down. The cold blue orbs seemed to pierce her skin, causing her flesh to itch and burn.

"If you return to Baker Street ever again, I will not hesitate to kill you," Sherlock said, sounding unattached to the world. He brushed past Lilly, pocketing the gun. The threat still hung in the air, adding to the nausea she was feeling.

She turned back to John, but he passed without giving her a second glance, hurrying to put as much distance between them as possible.

As the steps of her friends faded, she sat down on the cold cement floor. Lilly dropped her gun haphazardly and closed her eyes, pressing the palms of her hands against her eyelids, hard.

Time seemed to halt.

She sat there, not thinking, not feeling, when her hands grew wet. She pulled them from her face and looked at them quizzically, until she realized that she was crying. Her silent tears, soon turned to quiet hiccups, which then became louder coughs and sputters. Soon she fell into full sobs, no longer holding back the emotion— there was no need, no one could see her now, she was all alone.

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Well, I'm going to continue this book!! but your going to have to wait a bit for the next chapter... it's basically going to be a second part. Sorry.

M