The boys upstairs

Dilemma

"Well doesn't that just warm your heart?"

None of you react as he appears once more, but the tension in the room appears like static, so abrupt and tense it is almost solid.

You don't reply, clenching your fist and feeling the steady pulse of blood under your makeshift bandage. The blood hasn't yet stopped and you would like to sit down, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"I want to see it" he says but you still don't look. "Now please dear sister" he says softly and you comply, slowly unwrapping the bandage and wincing as the blood trickles done your arm and off your finger tips. Three big splotches appear on the linoleum where you tread on them lightly. Your arm stings in the cool air but Moriary isn't smiling.

"Thank you sister" he says quietly, almost sincerely. Right now you hate him more than ever, if possible. You move to cover it but he speaks again.

"No, leave it uncovered" he says clearly and you don't fight it, stepping back between the boys and gripping it fiercely with your hand. The blood is warm and sticky, the rusty smell cushioning your nose and you gag. Moriarty grins.

There is a small silence as you feel three pairs of eyes on you, but you meet none of them.

"Sherlock" he says suddenly and you close your eyes slowly.

"Present"

"It is your turn"

"I gathered"

They stare at each for a moment before Moriarty grins.

"You must forgive me, your game is far less creative than the others"

"Forgiven"

"That's very gracious of you. Now, in a moment another box will arrive through the floor- and this one is for you. How exciting! The instructions will be clear, and as always I will be watching. Have fun kids!"

Once again he disappears and you barely react to the box appearing in the floor. Sherlock however springs at it, ripping it open and seizing a piece of paper which he scans. Then reads again. Once more and then scrunches into a ball and hurls it at the wall.

"What is it?" John says softly. You didn't want him to ask.

"It's.. nothing. I'm not doing it."

You look up slowly and glare at him. "Oh now you let me die? After I've been defaced?"

"Shut up (Y/n)" says John and you sink to your knees.

He seems to sense something worse, his eyes wary as he watches Sherlock pace, scratching his head and letting each curl ping back.

"Sherlock, what does it say?"

"Nothing"

John strides over to the paper and unfurls it as Sherlock covers his mouth, still pacing. Now they are both white.

"Read it" you say dully.

"Read it" you repeat when no one answers. John clears his throat.

"Dearest Sherlock, your game is easy. That's new for you. You like a challenge. Now your only challenge is a small moral dilemma. Using the firearm provided earlier, you are to end the life of one of your two companions. It sounds rash I know, but would you believe I originally wanted you to kill them both! I offer you this generous mercy so you may continue as my foe and draw me from my boredom.
Choose well
Moriarty"

You are all still.

"Shit" you say eventually and John attempts a small smile.

"Simply put, but yeah"

More silence. Then John begins to speak, throat raspy.

"Sherlock I-"

"No"

You try next. "Sherlock-"

"Also no"

You and John exchange glances as Sherlock leans collectedly against a wall, pondering calmly as though asked what he wishes to eat for tea.

"It's got to be one of us" you whisper and Sherlock looks straight at you.

"Again, no"

"John" You says slowly. "You have Rosie-"

"Shut up (Y/n)!" He replies, suddenly furious. "Absolutely not. You are younger and healthier-"

"Do you think I want to live like this? Knowing I took a father from his daughter?!"

"And what about me? We both know death is the easy way out here (Y/n)!" He threatens and you groan in frustration. You turn away but sway, the walls doing a weird dance as you trip. Suddenly there are four hands around you as you swallow, fighting the urge to throw up.

"(Y/n)?" Says Sherlock evenly and you pull away.

"I'm fine"

"You've lost rather a lot of blood" says John and you wave him off, struggling to find his face. You straighten up and glare at them flatly.

"Sherlock. I make my case. I have known you mere months. I have no one. No family and only two friends in this world. That man has a life and a future. Now for the love of god, end this nightmare. I'm begging you"

He stares but you refuse to look away. He twists the firearm he has retrieved from the floor and you swallow again, nodding and attempting a smile. You fail and he bites his lip. He raises the weapon and you freeze, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. A second passes. Then two. Then ten. Finally you open your eyes and he lowers the gun, pain riddled across his face as clear as though it had been drawn on with sharpie.

"You have to" You gulp.

"I know" he says quietly. He smiles and flicks the safety off, twisting it so it points at his forehead.

"No!" You both shout, accompanied by a third voice. Noise erupts around you and a gunshot is heard. You stagger and scream, red light twisting in your face as shapes contort behind your eyes.

"Seize the Moriarty girl!"

"No she's with us!"

Suddenly the lights shut off and the sirens stop blaring. In front of you stands eight armed men and a familiar face in a tweed suit. His face is white, and Sherlock, miraculously still alive, turns suddenly to you, sweat beads gathered on his forehead.

"Oh shit" says John and you feel their eyes stuck to you.

Slowly, you look down.

"Oh"

They scream your name but you have already fallen, blood flowering at your hip and shapes blurring. There is the sounds of footsteps reverberating under your head but you don't care. You care only for Sherlock and John. You hate the concern and panic on their faces, so with a bloody finger you try to erase it.

It doesn't work and you let your hand fall to your side in defeat, allowing yourself to roll over and away into darkness.