Sherlock runs up the stairs, calling back the answer amid confused shouts. Everyone follows him. "Lestrade, we have to get back to the crime scene now."

"Alright, alright," he says, heading for the door. John runs to grab his and Sherlock's guns.

Mrs. Hudson goes back into her flat. "I can't find my gun, but-"

Her voice cuts through all the worry and noise and fear running through Sherlock's mind. "What? What for? You're not coming-"

She comes back out. "Sherlock, I will not just stay here while Lily is in danger!"

John, having heard at the top of the stairs, says, "We don't know his plan. He might come back."

"I'll send someone back here, just in case," Lestrade says.

Sherlock turns to his left. "Well, Liam-"

"Is going," he demands, and no one wants to argue with him. Mrs. Hudson groans, already on the verge of tears. All Sherlock can do is squeeze her shoulder before he races out the door. Lestrade is close behind, running for the driver's seat of his car. Sherlock gets in the passenger seat, and John and Liam get in the back. John passes Sherlock's gun to him.

"Drive, Greg, drive!" Sherlock shouts, quickly texting Mycroft. His hands are shaking and he can barely type, but the message is clear enough. 'Lily taken' and the address.

Lestrade is already pulling onto the street, sirens wailing. "I'm going!"

Sherlock grabs his hair again, willing the car to go faster. Tears pool in his eyes. What if they're too late?

"It's alright, Sherlock," John says, "Don't panic."

"I can't," he manages.

"Yes, you can. I've seen you do it before."

"But Lily-"

"You're the best person to help her. You know that. And we'll be right there with you. But you have to focus."

Sherlock nods, wipes his eyes on his sleeve. "Okay. Okay."

"What's the plan?" Lestrade asks, turning off the sirens as they draw nearer.

"I don't know. I don't know what he's done to her or what he wants to do or-"

"Save Lily," Liam says. "However we can."

"Good plan," Lestrade mumbles, turning onto the street. Sherlock can see the building, but he can't see Lily.

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He stands there, so excited to have it all figured out. He's so sure of his plan. But what is it?

"If this is third time you've tried this, don't you think he'll be ready for you?" Lily says.

He turns to her, having been looking out the glassless window. "Is he?"

"Why would I tell you?"

"Did he tell you?" He smiles. "He loves you, but do you know how much he really trusts you?"

More than Lily knows, she's sure. All that talk of her leaving, it was because he wanted her to be safe. He was right, something bad has happened, but she doesn't regret staying with him. Now she can help him. Hopefully. Or die trying. Instead of answering, she shrugs.

"You know he thinks of you as inferior."

That fight comes back to her. Is there a bug in Sherlock's flat, too? Or did she really yell so loud he picked up on it from her flat? Did she say anything out loud before Sherlock apologized?

That's it, the apology. He heard that.

"I meant that nothing in my life is normal. No one is. But you are the most normal person in my life. And that's something I've been needing for a long time. I didn't know it, until you came along. I just couldn't understand why someone so wonderfully normal would choose to be around me."

He does think she's normal. But he... loves her for that?

"You are remarkable, Lily Marlow, just in a way I've never seen before." Remarkably normal. But in no way did that sound like she was inferior. She frowned. He's trying to hurt her trust in him. Why?

"Never thought about that?" he says. "And he knew you would be in danger, didn't he? And yet here you are."

Because I stayed. Because I wanted to. "I could leave, if that would help."

He laughs. "You're very funny, but I need you here. You're the center of it all."

"Oh, I'm so excited."

"I'm not a fan of this sarcastic streak."

"And that's why I'm keeping it up."

There's talking outside, a car on the road. He turns his head to the window, and a large grin grows across his face. "Here he comes now. Let's see if he's a fan of it, shall we?" He grabs her by the arm, taking out his gun. He points it right at her head.

Footsteps sound on the ground floor, floorboards creaking and threatening to give way. Lily looks down as they run inside, Sherlock, John, Lestrade — and Liam? Lily can only look at him with wide eyes, trying not to betray her rising panic. This is just getting worse and worse.

Sherlock's red eyes meet hers. She's never seen him so pale.

He laughs again, seeing the guns trained on him. "Oh, you've brought an audience!"

"Drop the gun!" Lestrade shouts.

"No, actually-"

"Let her go!" Liam screams. John holds out his free hand to stop him.

His eyes drift to Liam. "Oh, what a devoted brother. Tell me, were you aware that Sherlock knew this would happen?"

Liam's eyes flash with rage and turn to Sherlock. Sherlock's expression doesn't change, but he looks to the man now. "She has nothing to do with this."

"She has everything to do with this," he argues. "But forgive me. I've skipped the introductions. It's so very nice to actually meet you, Mr. Holmes."

"I can't say I return the sentiment."

He waves this off. "No matter. But I bet it's all going through your head right now. Those two years of going through Moriarty's entire organization. But who could you have missed?"

Sherlock is silent, glaring eyes scanning the man's face.

"Let me help you. I was the one James sent in when he couldn't get his hands dirty. I was the one who planted and hacked and killed. I was the one who would inherit his empire."

Sherlock's brow twitches.

"Do you remember? I was very clever. I'm sure you didn't think I really existed. I took special care to keep my name secret, to stay hidden — just until I was the boss. And then everyone could know, and no one could touch me, not even you. But tell me, Sherlock, does the name Moran mean anything to you?"

Recognition crosses Sherlock's face. "A code name."

"No, no code name. My name. Sebastian Moran, actually. Not that you'll be able to tell anyone — but they will know." He laughs, absolutely giddy. "What's in a name? You know, I had such a time borrowing from everybody that I had to start reusing some. I hope you'll forgive the lack of a challenge. But we were getting down to the wire and I really needed to get you here."

"I'm sure I could find it my heart."

He laughs again, louder, jerking Lily around. "I see she's picked up that sarcastic streak from you." He looks to Liam. "Look at how he's corrupted your sister." He turns back to Sherlock. "Or was she already that way?"

"What are you talking about?" Lestrade says. He's wavering.

Moran laughs. "You got my note, didn't you? I'm sure Lily gave you some clues. But didn't you wonder where she had met me before?"

Sherlock doesn't move, doesn't break his gaze. "The thought hadn't crossed my mind."

Moran pauses, chuckles. "You're a good liar, Mr. Holmes. What do you think, Lil?" He grips her arm tighter and jerks her again. She nearly loses her footing and falls. Sherlock jerks forward as if to catch her, but Moran just laughs and pulls her closer. "What a show of heroics!"

Sherlock's voice starts to shake, and he grips his gun tighter. "It's me you want. Let her go."

"Don't you know she's how I get to you? And I can see it's working so well." He presses the gun into her temple, his grip still like a vice on her arm. Lily shudders involuntarily, then looks at Sherlock. There's a quiet rage on his face.

She closes her eyes. What can she do? What can she do? "Do you really think so?"

Moran laughs, but it's more like a growl this time. Like he's losing patience with her. "There's that sarcasm I was telling you about. It's really unbecoming for her, isn't it?"

"I trust Sherlock doesn't mind."

"Do you? Sherlock?"

He shakes his head, but he says nothing. His eyes move to Lily, almost inquisitive. She meets his gaze. They have to work together. That's the only way they both get out of this.

She needs him closer.

"It's his fault," she says.

Moran snorts. "Isn't all of it? Just ask your brother."

"Yes. Yes, it's all his fault," she replies. If she can just make him believe their trust is wavering, if she can play into his plan. But she has to make sure Sherlock knows she's lying. He saw through it once, hopefully he'll see through it again. "He knew what would happen and he let it get too far." She looks into Sherlock's eyes, tries to silently tell him it isn't true.

Moran winces. "Oh, my dear Sherlock, how that must sting. Your own heart is turning against you."

His eyes flick to Moran. His expression hasn't changed. "She's right."

"Oh, I know. We all know. You're the one to blame. You're the reason she's going to die — because she is going to die."

Lily tries not to betray the pounding of her heart. "Aren't we all?"

"But you will die today." He presses the gun even further into her temple. "And Sherlock Holmes will be at fault. Just as he predicted. Really, Sherlock, you should've planned for this. What did she say? A minute ago? You let it get too far?" He laughs. "How far are you willing to go, Sherlock?"

"To the end," Lily says. "He can't help it."

There's a glint in Moran's eye. "Come up here, Sherlock. And leave your gun down there."

"Sherlock-" Lestrade warns, but then Moran cocks his gun. The sound echoes through Lily's skull, and she can't help but shudder again. Sherlock tosses his gun on the ground and starts climbing up the ladder. Moran turns Lily to the side, to face Sherlock, and blocks a clear shot at himself from everyone on the ground.

But now he's closer to the window.

"What's it going to be, Sherlock? Her first or you?"

"If you want to kill me, I'll let you. But you have to let her go," Sherlock pleads.

"You're in no position to negotiate at the moment."

Lily shakes her head. "Sherlock, it's not worth it."

"You're worth it," he says instantly.

Moran laughs. "Oh, this is just perfect. What a lovely sentiment. And there's not a dry eye in the house! What a performance. But now it's curtains."

"You'd know all about the theater, wouldn't you?" Lily snaps.

"You know, you're really starting to get on my nerves!" He jerks her again, the gun jostles. But it's tight to her head. He's holding it at his shoulder. He's much taller than her, almost as tall as Sherlock. Lily looks to him. Her eyes are questioning, and she bends her head ever so slightly to the window. Sherlock tilts his head down, once. There's more help coming. They can stall him.

"I'm just making it easier for you to kill me," Lily says.

"I assure you it will be the second easiest thing I've ever done, right next to killing Sherlock Holmes."

"Everything is easy with you, isn't it? The planning here was really subpar, I have to say."

"You're one crack closer to death."

"But then how will you negotiate? I really don't think you thought this through. You need Moriarty's brains. This whole plan, every case, you weren't leaving breadcrumbs, you were leaving neon signs. Takes the fun out of all of it."

"I'd have to agree," Sherlock says.

"Is this a suicide mission for you two?!"

"I'm just making suggestions," Lily says. "If the goal is to be the king of crime, you might have to step up your game."

"For instance, how were you planning to get out of here after your double murder?" Sherlock asks.

"And why would I tell you?"

Lily shrugs. "What does it matter? And with Sherlock and I dead, what's stopping everyone else from shooting you? There's officers across the street — this was a horrible location choice."

"The harder it is, the more credibility I have. Now, my patience is severely wearing thin." He shoves the gun into Lily's bound hands, places her finger over the trigger. It's pointing at Sherlock.

"Moran-" he starts, hands already up.

"Now, Sherlock Holmes, your own heart is going to kill you! The very thing you let in and shouldn't have, your ultimate downfall!"

Lily resists as best she can, pushing against him, trying to break free, keep their fingers off the trigger. In her struggle, she catches them in her peripheral — Lestrade and John trying to get a clear shot on Moran.

Liam is gone.

"Liam!" Lily shouts, eyes searching for him, and it gives Moran enough pause — looking around, wondering where his audience member has gone and what he will do. Lily feels his grip slacken ever so slightly and jerks the gun skyward.

It goes off, the bullet flying straight through the crumbling roof. In front of them, Sherlock falls facedown on the scaffolding, and Liam is ducking out of the way as Moran brings the gun back down and fires where Sherlock had stood. A shot goes off from the floor, and Lily shoves her entire weight into Moran, knocking him as close to the window as she can. The gun goes off again, everything's a blur, she's falling to her knees and pulling the gun out of Moran's grip. Another shot sounds, not from her. A body hits the ground, and she looks up.

Sherlock is on his knees, eyes filled with worry. Liam is nearly next to him, scrambling onto the scaffolding. Blood rushes in her ears, her heartbeat is the loudest thing she's ever heard. She grips the gun but keeps her fingers off the trigger. People are talking, but she can't hear them. Is she shaking?

Sherlock reaches out and takes the gun, tosses it away. He grabs her hands, still bound, and starts to untie them. "Lily?" he says. He sounds like he's underwater. Her lips form his name but sound isn't coming out. "Are you alright?"

She throws her arms around him the second the rope falls away. "Sherlock." She locks eyes with Liam over his shoulder and reaches out. Liam grabs her hand.

"You're safe," Sherlock says, holding her tightly. "He's gone. You're safe."