The Sociopath: A BBC Sherlock Fanfic

Chapter XIII: The Plan

Two days later, when the streets of London began to calm down from the museum explosion, Sherlock Holmes had hailed a cab and soon stepped inside of Bart's Hospital. It was late out, and it seemed quiet. John was not working tonight; he was at the flat, resting, allowing his knife wound to fully heal. Sherlock thought this was perfect because he was able to slip out without his questioning or suspicions. But he must hurry. His flatmate wasn't going to sleep through the whole night without possibly having a nightmare involving him, and waking up to see if he was alright. It has happened a few times ever since John was free to go home, so it was possible to happen again. Sherlock wondered if he kept having bad dreams based on the explosion, even though that was now already more than a month ago.

The consulting detective stepped into the cold, bland building. He wasted no time heading into the morgue laboratory, where his pathologist assistant, Molly Hooper, stood patiently waiting for him. Her expression was serious, but Sherlock, observing her face closely, was able to detect a hint of  worry in it.

"Sherlock, are you sure you want to do this? What about-"

"Molly. I need to do this." Sherlock's tone of voice was firm as he interrupted her concerned words.  The female pathologist didn't say anything. Instead, she nodded quietly.  "Alright. Well, you tell me what the plan is, and I will take action," she finally spoke, trying to sound determined. This is for Sherlock. . . she reminded herself. "Well, when I meet Moriarty on the roof-"

"But wait a minute, how do you know you'll meet him up there? You already spoke to him?"

"Molly, that doesn't matter. What matters now is the plan I am about to explain to you."
The detecive sounded impatient. Molly thought he looked angry, but not an impatient angry, or irritated angry.  More of a rather. . . different angry. She couldn't place her finger on what exact anger the man standing before her looked, but she knew it made her feel a bit nervous. What if this plan is all for nothing? That same thought came flying back, making a nest in her mind. She tried to brush away the thought, not wanting to think about that now. Sherlock needed her at the moment. He even told her himself that he did. She gave a tiny nod to Sherlock, deciding to be quiet this time and listen carefully to the plan.

"Now, as I was saying, before being rudely interrupted"---at these words, he gave a small, irritated scowl at Molly, who gave an apologetic frown---"When I meet Moriarty on the roof, after some chatting of his, he will tell me to jump off the building. To commit suicide. Because if I don't, John, Mrs.Hudson, Gavin Lestrade-"

"It's Greg, Sherlock."

"-they will all die. Not just them, but perhaps everyone there on Baker Street may die. Who knows? He's very unpredictable. He may even kill himself. . . And so that's where you come in, Molly: I need you to be ready to take the body once he's dead. There wil be other people in on this, and you will need to make sure that they make the dead Moriarty(that's if, he does end up killing himself)look exactly like me.
Even though they are professionals, we cannot afford to make even the slightest mistake. In his stress, John may never get over the fact that I am. . . 'dead', and will possibly give my fake dead body careful obversations. You must understand that this process cannot take very long. After John is grieving and pulled away from someone---and that person will put John into sleep---you are to give me a dose to keep me unconcious at least for the time when I take the dead body's place. And, after all of this is over. . ." he trailed off.

"Yes?" Molly pressed on, though she had a feeling what he would say next, and it made her sad.

". . . I can't stay here, of course. I have to leave, far away. Even out of London, if it comes to that."

Silence seemed to take over the lab as Molly stared up at the tall man, her lips a straight, thin line. She loved the idea of working with Sherlock on this important plan, and the fact that he had come to her for it made her feel that she truly did count, but. . . .

He was going to leave after it all. And she hated that. Hated it more than she knew she would never be with him. Sherlock stared back at her for a moment before speaking, "Remember the plan, Molly. Be ready to take action when it's time." the pathologist nodded quietly and watched as the man turned and begun to leave. Suddenly, something came to her.

"Oh, Sherlock wait!" she called. He paused and turned his head to her with a curious look.

"I just wanted to know. . . And I feel that I need to. . . How do you know Moriarty is planning all of this?"

"He told me. In my Mind Palace."

"In your-" but Molly did not finish her questioning reply. Sherlock had already left. She just stared at the silent door, looking confused and almost anxious.

In my Mind Palace.
Was Sherlock trying to say he saw a vision? Molly knew the sociopath very well, and she knew that he didn't believe in nonsensical things like visions. She thought that maybe he was going mad. . . That James Moriarty found a way to mess with his head. She sighed, starting to doubt this 'brilliant' plan of the famous Sherlock Holmes.