(Rachel's POV)

I'll be back in Bayley's arms. Sherlock and Dad will come. Moriarty will be stopped. This will all end soon. I told myself that mentally as I rocked back and forth on the bed.

To his credit, Moriarty kept his word. He didn't spray the drug in my room, rendering me a blissful idiot to the obvious dangerous situation. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms. This is it. The last game we will ever play with Jim Moriarty.

I bit down on my thumbnail, waiting for someone to burst through the door and rescue me. I looked at the barred windows. The night made them feel more intimidating.

I got off the bed, touching the glass of one of the windows. Outside, all I saw was darkness, and possibly the shapes of trees. Wherever we were, if I could escape, I could hide in the woods and get help. It'd be good cover. Now if only I could climb...

Moriarty didn't pay me a visit since I stormed out of the room after the video conference. My heart was running fast even though I wanted to remain calm. They had to figure out where I am by now. They're smart. Moriarty purposely gave them a big hint. He's tired of waiting.

I turned towards the door when I thought I heard commotion. After listening for a long minute, I believed I was tricking myself. I'm losing my mind. How am I still sane in this place? A madman drugged me. A man who's conflicted and horrible at expressing his feelings. My mind was in a tailspin.

I couldn't picture Jim Moriarty being anything other than the psychopath that I'd known him to be.

I jumped as the door was busted into. I pushed myself near the window. I was a bit disappointed that it wasn't Bayley, but my dad was just as big of a relief.

"Dad!" I squeaked. I nearly ran him over when I embraced him and sobbed into his shoulder.

"Rachel, oh, god," he muttered, smoothing my hair down. "You're okay. I'm here. It's okay. We're both here."

"W-where's Sherlock?" I stepped away, wiping my face.

"We split up to look for you." He touched my face. "Are you hurt?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Come on, let's get out of here."

"What about Sherlock? Is he trying to find Moriarty?"

"I don't know. He told me to split, and then he ran off before I could suggest something else."

I chuckled. "That sounds like him."

"Come on."

Just as we nearly left my room, a gunshot sounded. Dad shoved me into the wall, away from the doorway. Crap. He kept a protective hold over me and pulled out a weapon of his own.

"When I say, you run," he told me sternly. "I'll be right behind you."

"Dad—"

"I promise, Rachel."

I squeezed his hand. "Okay."

"Ready. One, two..." He jumped out of my room, firing shots. "Now!"

I ran for my life, ducking as I heard the loud pops ring on the upper level of the mansion. Stairs, stairs, stairs. I found the railing, and nearly got my hand shot off when I tried to grab it—I saw the bullet bite into it. I nearly fell as I missed a step on the way down.

I jumped a few steps at a time. Freedom was so close, I could practically taste it. Sherlock, where are you? I stopped, looking upwards, as I heard more loud shots. Come on, Dad. You promised.

"What are you doing, Rachel?!" Dad exclaimed. He was at the top of the stairs, firing shots down the hall. "Move!"

Feeling slightly better, he and I continued our frantic escape down the stairs.

"Where is he?" I asked, panting, as I saw the doors within reach.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," came the drawl of Jim Moriarty.

Dad and I froze, and he spun around, gun aimed at Moriarty.

Moriarty smirked. "I wouldn't. You may be a good shot, Johnny, but Sebastian is better."

"Dad..." I whispered as I saw the red dot dancing on his chest. He glanced down and saw it too.

"So close," Moriarty snickered. "Don't worry, Rachel, I didn't want you to feel left out."

I had a dancing red dot on my chest now too. "Thank you," I said curtly. "Would've hurt my feelings if I didn't have my own sniper."

"Ah, that attitude never gets annoying." He sighed. "One, two...I believe we're missing someone. Where is he? He's the guest of honor!"

"Couldn't tell you," said Dad.

"Put down the weapon, John. It won't do you good here."

Dad wasn't happy, but he put the weapon to the floor and kicked it over in Moriarty's direction for good measure. "I knew it was too easy."

"Well, of course it had to be! How else would I get you two right where I want you?" Moriarty looked around. "Come out, Sherlock! We're all waiting on you!"

"I thought you were more observant than that?" asked Sherlock. My heart ran fast as the detective emerged behind Moriarty. Moriarty spun around, and he laughed gleefully. Sherlock didn't look impressed. "You're slipping on your game."

"Mm, not really." Moriarty backpedaled towards Dad and I. "Bravo on keeping your end of the deal. I love when things go according to plan."

"Stop stalling," I said strongly. "You've got us where you want us. What's this all about?"

"If you recall, the last time we played a game, I destroyed Sherlock's reputation. I thought it was enough. Apparently, it wasn't. But like I told him from the beginning, I would burn the heart out of him. Now, it seems that time has come." Moriarty paced behind Dad and me. "You've gone soft, Sherlock. I've had people watching your antics, and I must say, it's damn fine telly to watch! All the drama, suspense! You nearly had me when you died, I almost got upset!

"You've grown a heart to fit you, Sherlock Holmes. And this will prove it. You choose who dies first."

"What?" I stammered. "What, no, 'choose one and the other lives'?"

"What kind of fun is that, Rachel?" I felt Moriarty's hand move hair behind my ear. "He knows I'll kill both of you anyway. I figure I'd give him the privilege of choosing the first to go. His best friend, or the woman he swore to protect."

I licked my lips. "What if I work for you?"

I heard him snort. "Too late, Rach. You've had plenty of opportunities to take that offer."

"If you kill Sherlock, because we all know that you will, then who will you have to play with?" I turned to the side to lock eyes with Moriarty. "Because surely nobody compares to the great Sherlock Holmes. Anyone else in the world won't live up to your expectations. I work for you, you let them go, the game continues. You don't want it to end so soon, do you? Please, Jim." I reached for his face. He grabbed my wrist, stopping my fingertips from brushing his cheek.

"Rachel," Dad said warningly.

I shushed him, focusing on Moriarty still. "It's what you've wanted anyway, right? I don't have to be happy about it; it's not about what I want. It's about what keeps you sleeping at night."

Moriarty quirked his mouth. "You really know how to try and tug on a man's heartstrings, Rachel. Unfortunately, for you, there's a hole where my heart should be." He smirked. "I might pass you for your acting skills, though." He pulled my wrist down, looked at Sherlock. "The only offer I'll accept is whatever he chooses. You, or the blogger. He already knows I won't accept him as an option."

I looked at Sherlock, who looked like he was trying to work solutions in his head. But I knew what he was seeing: no options without blood being spilled. He couldn't save us, there was just no way. I found it hard to believe that Moriarty's men had bad shooting skills.

Well...if both of us are going to die anyway. He said he would kill me eventually. I guess now is the time. I couldn't believe I was prepared to say the words. It was going to be even harder to stay on my view when the people I loved would tell me everything under the sun to not think how I was going to think.

"Sherlock," I murmured pleadingly.

"No."

"Sher—"

"Rachel, no. I know what you're about to suggest."

"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be here." I sniffled. "And don't you dare try and convince me otherwise. Go ahead, choose me. I-I know your job was to protect me, but this, you can't protect me from." My lips wobbled. "Please, you need to let me go."

"Rachel."

"For once in your life, don't be stupid, Sherlock. You know it's the right choice. Even if there's a chance of saving someone, you can save Dad, not me. He's your case-solving partner, I'm just his daughter."

"But you're much more than that, aren't you?" Moriarty crooned. "There's always more than meets the eye."

I rolled my eyes. "We were having a private conversation."

"Not so private when you've got others in the room. Hmm, I guess since things are about to go up in flames, I better drop this bomb. I was saving this for a good moment, and it looks like now is the perfect time."

I looked to him, bug-eyed. He didn't show them the pictures? I almost forgot he had that blackmail chip in his pocket. "You wouldn't."

"Kitten, I would. And I will. Wouldn't you want to go into death with a clear conscience anyway?" His smile looked unnatural, twisted.

"What are you talking about?" asked Dad.

"While you were milling about on your honeymoon, Johnny boy, your best friend and your lovely daughter were shacking up at good ole two-two-one-B."

Someone should've just punched me in the chest. The look on my dad's face...

"I don't believe you," Dad said.

"Why would you? I'm a deceitful bastard. No, if you want someone to believe, try asking your best friend, or better yet," he stood at my side, "ask your precious daughter. Go on, John. Let them prove that I'm telling the truth. If you still don't believe them, I've got solid evidence to convince even you."

Dad looked at me. "He's lying, isn't he, Rachel?"

"Clear conscience," Moriarty sang in my ear.

I licked my lips. "It's a complicated mess," I whispered quietly, avoiding all eye contact. "I was helping Sherlock on a case."

"She's not wrong, John," said Sherlock quietly. He and I looked at each other, and I could see the pain he was feeling too.

"Wait a minute...you mean to tell me that Moriarty is right? That you...you and Sherlock..." Dad's mouth was agape, floundering for words. "So let me get this straight: you worked on a case with Sherlock, which required you to cheat on Bayley? Rachel, that man loves you!"

"I know!" I shouted. "You think that I didn't know that every damn waking minute I was being that person? You don't think that I didn't feel guilty that entire time?"

"Then why did you do it in the first place?!"

I sniffled. "Because I saw Sherlock in a new light. We saw each other differently, in that short time. If it makes you feel any better, that whole thing was an experiment so he could use Janine for the Magnussen case."

"It really doesn't, Rachel. Nothing can make this feel better!"

"We thought it would never come up again, until Moriarty emailed Sherlock with pictures of us. He tried to use it as leverage over me here, on top of using Amanda...We wanted this to never be brought up. Dad, I'm so sorry."

"You shouldn't apologize to me, apologize to your fiancé. You know, the man you plan to marry."

"Can you do that for me?" My lips trembled. "Can you tell him how much I hate myself for betraying him? That I don't deserve a man like him in this life or any that I would have ever lived. That I'm sorry, and that he deserves someone much better than me. He'll know that I deserve to die."

"No, Rachel, you don't. We all make mistakes, some more drastic than others. Don't use that as an excuse to sacrifice yourself. You can't take back what you did, but you can still make amends. You did when you found out about Bayley's past."

"He being the sniper and my cheating on him are two different things."

"It's so touching!" Moriarty sang. "It almost made me fake-cry!" He chuckled, looking back to Sherlock. "Made your choice yet?"

"I already gave you an out, Sherlock," I pleaded. "This is how it has to be."

"Rachel, don't talk stupid," the consulting detective snapped.

"Look, you can't protect me anymore." I glanced at Moriarty. "I always knew somehow you'd be the death of me, from the time I realized how much of a monster you were."

"Oh, kitten, that's so flattering of you." He smirked.

"Oh, that's not a compliment."

Moriarty looked back at Sherlock. "Well? Is she your choice? If so, I want to make sure I give her a proper farewell."

"Sherlock," Dad rasped.

"John, I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for hurting her," Sherlock said sincerely. He locked eyes with me.

"Goodbyes, they are so painful," Moriarty cooed, pulling my head towards him. "I'll miss you, kitten. I'll think about all the good times we shared together."

"I didn't choose anyone," Sherlock snarled.

"You have to pick, or else I just might make the choice for you. Do you want that?"

Nobody said anything, because a loud explosion jolted us forward, sending all of us off our feet, and Dad and I crushed under the weight of the doors.