"No.." she breathed as he approached her, his eyes dark and frightening. Molly stepped backwards, he wasn't going to come near her, not today. This was meant to be the happiest day of her life, and this man was going to ruin everything. Again. Her heart was in her throat as she felt the coldness of the mirror pressing against her bare back, and a shiver, not at all related to the cold, shot up her spine.
"It's time this game ended, Molly Hooper.." he smirked as he pulled out a knife, pointing it threateningly towards her. "As a kid, I always wanted to be a butcher, you know.. Perhaps I might go into it after all.. I could always try it out on you.. See if I enjoy it.."
She frowned as Jim stepped towards her once more, almost touching his, his hand reaching forward to grip her by the neck, everything seemingly happened in slow motion. Then there was a gunshot.
Jim stopped, his fingers inches from her throat. His eyes widened and he staggered slightly, dropping the knife to the floor before falling against her. She screamed as she felt the Irishman's body falling down hers, pulling at her dress, a large rip appearing at the waist.
"That's why I made sure to order two" a cool voice drew her attention to the door, and she looked at the man, completely puzzled.
"Sherlock, stop it..." Violet Holmes frowned as she attempted, once more, to fix her son's hair in to some semblance of normality. His thick curls refused to calm themselves, dropping wherever they pleased. What did it matter? he wondered. Molly liked his hair like this every other day, why wouldn't she like it today? He allowed his mother to try to comb it, mainly because Mycroft and John were both glaring at him when he struggled, as adults would glare at a naughty child. Once she was done 'taming' him, however, he simply shook his head, spoiling her work as his curls returned to their previous positions.
"You're such a child.." Mycroft rolled his eyes, glancing out of the window as they approached the simple suburban church Molly Hooper had picked out. As a child, he'd been told, Molly had been a fairly religious person. Now, she wasn't religious at all, but she'd always wanted a proper church wedding, and Mycroft had decided that both she and Sherlock deserved to have the wedding they wanted. That was why he'd bought her the dress of her dreams.
"She's taking a while.." John muttered softly and Sherlock frowned. He was feeling nervous, and he didn't like it. He wasn't good with feelings and he wasn't sure how to handle them, especially here at a time when he couldn't just internalise everything. He was about to get married.. Or he would be, if she showed up. Why wouldn't she? It had been no secret that Molly had been in love with Sherlock for years.. Why would she throw that away? She wouldn't, not by choice.. something must be happening, Sherlock realised with a frown.
Luckily, at the exact same moment, Mycroft Holmes also realised the same thing. He'd known all along that Sherlock and Molly's wedding day would need high level security, but he also knew that nothing would stop James Moriarty. If he wanted to get to Molly, he would. So when the blushing bride didn't make her way down the aisle at the exact moment she'd planned to, Mycroft knew something was wrong. Quietly, he moved towards her dressing room, silently opening the door.
"No.." he'd heard her say, before the door was fully open, and his breath caught in this throat. He watched through the crack in the door as Jim moved towards Molly, waiting for the right time, the moment where Jim couldn't fight back. The criminal moved forward, reaching out to touch her, and something inside Mycroft snapped. Without a second to think, he pulled a gun out of the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket, aimed at the back of Jim's head, and pulled the trigger.
"The bride will be a few more minutes.. She's had a wardrobe malfunction.." Mycroft Holmes explained as he stood at the front of the church. A hushed whisper quickly filled the room, but he ignored it, moving towards his baby brother.
"What really happened?" Sherlock frowned, noting Mycroft's expression. He knew when his brother was keeping things from him, he knew pretty much everything Mycroft was thinking most of the time.
"James Moriarty.. But he's dealt with. He won't be bothering you two ever again.." he smiled, squeezing Sherlock's hand reassuringly before heading to sit next to his mother. Sherlock frowned. He'd get more information from Mycroft after the wedding, but right now, he had more pressing things to attend to. Such as Molly Hooper floating elegantly down the aisle.
She woke up to the sound of gentle music playing, her eyes slowly blinking open. He stood by the window, framed beautifully in the light and she shifted slightly in bed to get a better view. He'd not noticed her listening yet, or if he had, he'd not acknowledged it. She smiled to herself, glancing down at the silver coloured wedding band on her left hand, before closing her eyes and allowing his music to wash over her. She felt safe, finally. Secure. She had Sherlock Holmes, and she knew that now, nothing could hurt her.
This chapter isn't as long as I wanted it to be, but I was desperate to get it out for you before I went away for Christmas so you didn't have to wait. Thanks for following this story, guys, and thanks a million to those of you who joined me here from Taking Molly. I hope you find the ending satisfactory, and I'm sorry for any feels you suffered due to me.
Merry Christmas, and a glorious, Sherlolly 2013.