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Description
[i]"He wants to destroy me inch by inch.

It is a game, Lestrade. And not one I'm willing to play."[/i]

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

I found this episode so moving in that you could see each strand of Moriarty\\\'s slowly but surely tightening around Sherlock... Binding him and stripping him of his closest allies. The growing suspicion in the police force, the blind, eager hatred of the media... Even his own brother sees his as somewhat dispensable, something to be sold for a few snatches of information from a maniac. The sight of this genius being dragged down to his knees, made a fugitive was so appalling and unexpected... As well as the calm and dignified way in which he dealt with it. When he knew the police-- comprised of individuals evidently keen for his blood-- would be coming, he didn\\\'t struggle, didn\\\'t use violence; simply shrugged on his coat, fixed his scarf... Still a figure of incredible pride and composure.

And yet the telling way in which the one moment he truly felt a fear so strong he needed to lash out was when the thought that John was starting to be torn away-- \\\"burn the heart out of you.\\\" -- and that he could think him a fraud. That was Moriarty\\\'s true game plan.

It just made that final phone call all the more awful. In an attempt-- however futile-- to somehow assuage the grief he knew John would feel, he was willing to destroy his own legacy, his own heart, in the desperate hope that doing so would ease his best friend\\\'s pain. Trapped and alone, his last act as \\\"Sherlock Holmes\\\" was dragging his name through the gutter, to present it to the man whose opinion of it is the only thing that matters to him.

Not only was he sacrificing his life, he was sacrificing so much more.

... Seriously, I need to revise.

Description
[i]"He wants to destroy me inch by inch.

It is a game, Lestrade. And not one I'm willing to play."[/i]

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

I found this episode so moving in that you could see each strand of Moriarty\\\'s slowly but surely tightening around Sherlock... Binding him and stripping him of his closest allies. The growing suspicion in the police force, the blind, eager hatred of the media... Even his own brother sees his as somewhat dispensable, something to be sold for a few snatches of information from a maniac. The sight of this genius being dragged down to his knees, made a fugitive was so appalling and unexpected... As well as the calm and dignified way in which he dealt with it. When he knew the police-- comprised of individuals evidently keen for his blood-- would be coming, he didn\\\'t struggle, didn\\\'t use violence; simply shrugged on his coat, fixed his scarf... Still a figure of incredible pride and composure.

And yet the telling way in which the one moment he truly felt a fear so strong he needed to lash out was when the thought that John was starting to be torn away-- \\\"burn the heart out of you.\\\" -- and that he could think him a fraud. That was Moriarty\\\'s true game plan.

It just made that final phone call all the more awful. In an attempt-- however futile-- to somehow assuage the grief he knew John would feel, he was willing to destroy his own legacy, his own heart, in the desperate hope that doing so would ease his best friend\\\'s pain. Trapped and alone, his last act as \\\"Sherlock Holmes\\\" was dragging his name through the gutter, to present it to the man whose opinion of it is the only thing that matters to him.

Not only was he sacrificing his life, he was sacrificing so much more.

... Seriously, I need to revise.