When the Reaper Stops Laughing
Moriarty was on top of the world, it spun as he pulled the strings. The little humans danced under his feet, so sure that they, foolish creatures, were in control of their lives. He was at the very top of the food chain, only sharing the top rank with one other man, but soon, so soon, Jim could devour him. Sherlock would be consumed by the game, for that foolish little detective was on the side of the angels. Weak and pathetic falling into the grasp of his own heart. Sherlock would fall, and how fitting that Mycroft would be the one who pushed his precious brother to the edge.
Mycroft Holmes sat in his beautifully constructed office, a glass of brandy sitting just in arm's reach. He had just released Moriarty from his extended 'vacation'. He only had to glanced into the holding cell to know that his brother was doomed. Mad scrawls of the a evil sociopath, obsessed with a single man. He had handed Moriarty the one thing that he needed to destroy his brother, the truth. Mycroft Homes rarely made mistakes and when he did it always ended with someone dead. Mycroft set his head into his hands, unable to imagine a life knowing that Sherlock was not in it. He straighten as he heard Anthea enter the room.
"Sir, there's a strange phone call on the line. I've rerouted it several times but, sir, it keeps coming back." Anthea said her eyes not leaving the information on her mobile. Mycroft frowned, he really didn't want to deal with anyone right now.
"Did you get a name at least?" Mycroft asked annoyed that he hadn't already been given the information.
"She said 'Tell him the Reaper is calling' that's all that was said" Anthea said, the sudden noise made her glance up from her phone. Mycroft Holmes had jumped from his chair to get to the secured line behind his desk. Anthea had never seen her boss ever make a move that was so undignified and unplanned. He picked up the phone.
"Ah, I was wondering how long I would have to enter the code 'til I got you." A soft female voice laughed. "Your PA is pretty smart, I'm impressed."
"What do you need?" Mycroft asked never the one to make small talk. Anthea thought about that phrase. What do you need? This was someone who had the respect and servitude of the British government, who was this Reaper?
"Ah, I don't think it is I who needs something. You've wound yourself into quite a knot, pretty soon you'll be hanging your brother with it." The voice was laughing at his mistake, Mycroft carefully ignored any feeling. He needed this voice to agree to help him, it was the only way to correct his error.
"Are you offering your services?" He asked slowly. The tinkling laughter floated through his ears. It was disturbing and yet familiar, it made him relax.
"Jim Moriarty is so sure he's hit the ceiling and no one is above him. He is becoming obnoxious to myself and other comrades. I will be dealing with him personally." The woman said her voice still smiling, but Mycroft shuddered. He would never wish this creature on anyone but if it saved his brother...
"Will Sherlock be safe?" Mycroft asked before he could stop the familial sentiment from slipping out. There was a moment pause.
"Oh Mycroft, I would never let anyone destroy my favorite story. You will not interfere with my methods."
"I understand, do keep me updated on your progress." The politician said blandly. A giggle and then dial tone was his only answer. Mycroft turned to meet the gaze of Anthea, which was rare in itself.
"Who was that?" She asked, Mycroft looked out the window.
"Moriarty has caught the attention of the Grim Reaper."
"The Grim Reaper? He isn't real."
"I think you'll find that she is very real." Mycroft said with finality seating himself back at his desk starting in on his paperwork. Anthea frowned, returned to her phone, knowing when she had been dismissed.
There were many things that Sherlock did not like, people, sunshine, brothers, rain, annoying things, boredom. He did like John, and interesting things. There was an interesting thing standing over a dead body. He could tell her eyes were making pattern common with people who could deduce the clues of a body. If only she would look at him then he would understand.
"Oi! What're you doing here?" Lestrade snapped obviously on edge at a mystery guest's appearance on the crime scene. The woman stood turning to face the three men. Sherlock skimmed through her. She was short barely standing at one and a half meters. Hair was prematurely gray, face had hardly any signs of aging. Her eyes were hazel, the flowing dark brown shirt she wore gave them a golden glint, for intimidation Sherlock thought absently. She intended to control and dominate the situation, and Sherlock had no doubt she could. His first instinct was to shift so that she was a little further from John. Certain things about her screamed military intelligence agent but it was too perfect, she was an ideal. Sherlock had learned from Moriarty that ideals did not exist, only dangerous people who knew the system.
"I'm sorry Detective Inspector." She giggled pulling out a badge and ID, across it was MI5. Both Lestrade and John snapped to attention, the woman made no move to acknowledge the change.
"Wha – what can I help you with Ma'am?" The DI asked politely. She smiled and walked over the body.
"Nothing, I am here for those two." She said pointing to the Doctor and Detective. Sherlock narrowed his eyes, this woman wasn't sitting right with him. Something was so very wrong, if only he could observe her better.
"Did my brother send you?" Sherlock snapped irritated that she was easily slipping out of his reach.
"That is a complex question." She stated before turning back to Lestrade. "You're looking for his girlfriend, well his main one anyway. Men are just so foolish. Lilly Tripon lives in Soho, look under her stairs that's where she hid the hammer." And with that the supposed MI5 agent wandered away.
"Come on boys we have more important things to discuss, let the Detective Inspector do his job." She called back, summoning Sherlock and John easily. She took them to a sleek black car, both eyed it with contempt.
"It's so cliche." Sherlock muttered sliding into the back seat. The woman laughed as she closed the door after John wandering to the driver side.
"Cliches have a tendency of working, Sherlock." With that she took off, foot never leaving the gas pedal for the brake. Within an hour they were outside of London in a little outcropping of trees. John was holding onto the seat, trying to force his stomach to keep all the contents down. Sherlock did not appear in much better shape. Both men scrambled out of the car as the lady driver laughed at their plight. The men sat on the ground catching their breath.
"So what do you want? I would say you were trying to kill us, but you had the opportunity multiple times in the last hour." John said glancing up at the tiny woman. She offered a feral grin.
"Moriarty is what I want." She said, both men froze that name bringing a chill to their spines.
"But that's not why you're here. You said that it was more complex than that." Sherlock said standing hoping his height would be effective in persuasion. She raised an eyebrow at him, and Sherlock knew he was caught, she did not seem to mind though.
"Yes, your elder brother has dug himself a rather deep hole. I am interested in pulling him out of it." She said vaguely, Sherlock snarled.
"His mistakes are not my problem."
"Normally no, but your brother has had his bluff called. He gave Moriarty the greatest weapon." She explained patiently.
"Sherlock." John whispered, causing the owner of the name to freeze. The silvery haired female smiled.
"Very good Doctor. Yes, in a matter of weeks Mycroft managed to hand over everything our darling Jim needs to tear your reality apart." Sherlock froze his mind trying process all the possibilities Moriarty could use. His mind honed in on one.
"He's going to make me famous and then watch as I fall." Sherlock murmured in understanding. "It's brilliant." John rolled his eyes.
"No No don't you see John? He'll give me the one thing I could care nothing about. Fame, fans, public interest, they turn so quickly. Then slowly he'll slowly tighten the noose until I am trapped. Wait wait, there is something missing. How am I trapped?"
"Moriarty knows what keeps a sociopath sane." The woman said smiling as she watched Sherlock create his answers.
"John." Sherlock whispered, childishly groping for his flatemate's arm. The idea of Moriarty taking John away physically hurt the Detective. John let the man grab onto him.
"Moriarty isn't going to get me Sherlock." John said knowing even as he spoke that the words were a lie. John had a nasty habit of getting into black cars when people told him too, again this was Mycroft's fault. It would be all to easy to ferry him away.
"Well not anymore. I can ensure you that I will be dealing with Moriarty. I just need you to lure him out." A female voice cut in again drawing the attention back to her small form. Sherlock looked as though he had a bad taste in his mouth.
"I don't need your help getting rid of Moriarty, now that I know his plan." Sherlock sneered. A gentle smile was on the woman's lips.
"And when you realize the solution, will you follow through with it?" She asked her damned laughter ringing in her words. Sherlock concentrated, in a matter of moments he explored every avenue he could take. He followed both his and Moriarty's pattern of thinking. And every time John was never there at the end. Either Moriarty would take the opportunity to kill him or Sherlock would be forced to make the Doctor leave. Sherlock looked up at the woman.
"That's right, this game has become something else entirely. I'm tagging you out Sherlock." She said kindly. John didn't really understand what had just happened, but he could tell Sherlock was upset about this situation. He was tired of this conversation.
"Sorry, hi, still here. Why don't we tell the idiot what's going on?" John voice cracked over the other two. The woman turned to him.
"Oh, John you mustn't take Sherlock's name calling to heart. You are incredible, after all you live with him. Most people don't understand sociopaths, how can they? But you didn't let that stop you and then you killed for him. But this game with Moriarty, even now, ends and you are either dead or gone in some form." She explained in what seemed a kind voice, however, John felt as though this was a mask. He always got the same feeling when he was near Mycroft, emotions that were forced and manipulated. He remained silent because this woman also agitated the solider in him. It was like she was out of synch with time, just a moment ahead.
"What will you do with Moriarty?" Sherlock asked, genuinely curious of the fate of the Consulting Criminal. Suddenly her demeanor changed, her eyes flashed with unprecedented joy.
"What I always do to my victims." She said a happy lilt in her voice. Sherlock for the first time since Baskerville felt a little spark of terror.
"Who are you?" Sherlock asked hoping for a name to call this little she demon.
"Beth Dade will do for now." She said before beginning to walk back to her car. She turned back around her head flicking in the direction of the car.
"Come along boys, London needs its best crime solving duo." The boys slowly followed Beth back to her car. The ride back was silent, she parked the car in front of their flat.
"Don't worry Sherlock I won't take over a crime scene again. I understand you need to be entertained, but I will be following you around. Hopefully it'll catch Moriarty's interest, ta!" Beth said as a form of goodbye. Leaving a slightly bewildered John and an annoyed Sherlock.
"Come along John, text Lestrade let him know that we haven't been recruited by the MI5." Sherlock voice was cutting, John nodded knowing that this woman was a puzzle that Sherlock couldn't even begin to put together. John knew that this was a new game and Beth held all the cards and had quite possibly had rigged the table.
True to her word, Beth appeared at their doorstep the next day, moments after Lestrade had called with a new case. Sherlock and John wordlessly slid into the back seat, this seemed to cause Beth a great deal of amusement.
"There is a passenger seat, you needn't both ride in the back." She told them, again the underlying laugh ever present in her voice. John flushed lightly, he had obviously not even considered the option, while Sherlock said nothing. They pulled up to a dank abandoned house, Sherlock had already begun his work, he stepped out moving quickly to the police tape. Sally Donavan met them at the barrier.
"Oi Freak, this isn't a party. You can't keep bringing other people to the crime scene." Sally snapped at Sherlock, she then focused on Beth.
"You do realize you're with a Freak and his pet, right?" The sergeant asked ignoring both men's annoyed faces. Beth laughed.
"Boys go ahead you don't need me for the crime scene. I think Sally and I need to have a chat." Sherlock and John gave the small woman a strange look before crossing the tape. Neither felt the urge to argue, Sally was infamously a thorn in their side. Sherlock pulled up the tape allowing both of them through. Beth fondly watched them go, then she pulled out her MI5 identification, Sally stiffened.
"You're the MI5 bird that was at the crime scene yesterday." She said callously, Beth seemed not to take offense. She nodded, a smile perfectly placed on her face.
"Tell me Sally, do you know the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath?" Beth asked calmly pinning the other woman down with her stare. Sally gave her another odd look.
"Fine, let me ask a different question. Which category is Sherlock Holmes?"
"He's said himself he's a sociopath, what does this have to do with..." Sally began before Beth cut her off.
"Mmm Yes, he would be aware of it wouldn't he? His brother's like that as well. Socio, do you know what other words use that root? Society, social, sociology all of which deal with large numbers of people." Beth said seeing if any of this caught up in Sally's brain, it apparently didn't because the sergeant only seemed to get more frustrated. Beth continued.
"A sociopath is always a by product of an environment. Created so very carefully until they don't know what it means to be human. Tortured emotionally until the only thing they can do to survive is locking away everything that makes them hurt. Someone took a child, so smart, so clever, and the forcibly caused him to shut down his emotions." Beth giggled as understanding rose on Sally's face.
"Every time you call him Freak, you reaffirm the conditioning given to him. With John, Sherlock is learning how to ignore his training and every time you speak you hold him back." Beth affirmed aloud what Sally had concluded. With Sally properly chastised Beth moved to go to where Sherlock was probably finishing his murder case. Sally stopped her.
"Then what's the difference between a psychopath and sociopath?" She asked curiosity getting the better of her. Beth turned, a smile ripping across her face, feral and dripping with dark intent.
"Psychopaths are natural, nothing in the world could stop them from being what they are. From the beginning they are moral-less, bored and emotionless. Taking a life is as easy as breathing, no conscience just a longing to not be bored. The world is one giant game and the winner is the one alive when the sun goes down. And a psychopath always, always, wins." With that Beth turned towards the building leaving a shaking Sally Donavan in her wake. The cop watched as the silver haired woman easily moved out of the way of a running Sherlock closely followed by an endeared Dr. Watson. She fell in step behind the men, her laughter ringing over the sounds of London.
Moriarty was annoyed, he had come back from the British government's version of captivity to find that his Sherlock was running around with not only John Watson but a woman whose name was Beth Dade. She had appeared out of thin air and seemed to have no past. Supposedly she was a MI5 agent but none of his moles had ever seen or heard of her. She was a ghost, the unknown variable. Sherlock and John had a cautious friendship with her, neither of them trusted her, but Sherlock still allowed her to stand next to John at crime scenes. While John made no move to stop Beth and Sherlock from mad ramblings only other geniuses could concoct. A phone vibrated Jim smiled as he glanced down at the picture of a laughing silver hair woman a single name across the top, it was time to meet the new member of the Sherlock gang.
As soon as Sherlock walked into the crime scene, he knew Moriarty had been there. At this point he could practically smell the Consulting Criminal's handy work. He inspected the body deducing that this was nothing more than an attention getter. All the clues left would lead him to the next meeting point. He turned and saw that John was frowning at the crime scene, did his doctor know what was happening? Beth was looking and the sandy blonde with delight on her face.
"Sherlock, this is Moriarty playing his usual games." John said looking at the Detective. Sherlock offered the smaller man a brilliant smile.
"Oh, my clever John! Indeed, this body has been dead for nearly a year. It has been frozen, no report filed mostly likely this woman is an illegal alien. No one knew she was missing. This is Moriarty's idea of an invitation." Sherlock deduced, Lestrade's face screwed up, upset that he was the only one who didn't see that. It was happening more often now, John was beginning to catch up with Sherlock, and Beth never did anything but smile at the crime scene.
"An invitation to where, Sherlock?" The DI asked trying hide his jealously. Sherlock offered him a raised eyebrow.
"To the place where she was stored for a year. See her hand placement? 11:30 is the meeting time. We have 15 hours to figure out where she was being held." Sherlock explained happy to show off to someone. John rolled his eyes at Sherlocks theatrics, it only seemed to amuse Beth. Sherlock didn't seem to notice, drifting into his mind palace to find his answer. John ushered them out of the room knowing Sherlock would be along in his own time. He had clinic work in about 30 minutes and he really didn't need to deal with Sarah's stares if he was late, again.
"Take the car, I'll make sure Sherlock doesn't walk out into traffic." Beth said happily, aware of John's own insane schedule. John sighed, but head towards the now familiar car. He knew that Beth had enough interest and need of Sherlock that he would survive in her care while John was away at work.
True to her word, while John was at work Beth had managed to get Sherlock back to 221B Baker Street without to much incident. John came home to find Sherlock staring into the nothingness, the dark haired man didn't move a John settled into the chair opposite the couch. The doctor knew that Beth was wandering around somewhere close by. It was a waiting game until 11:30 and they could find out what Moriarty wanted now.
Sherlock and John walked into a supposedly abandoned warehouse in the old industrial part of London. Both were on guard waiting for Jim to make his grand entrance as the man tended to do. Beth was walking next to Sherlock looking as pleased as she always did. Sherlock looked over to John and froze, the hated red dot was aimed right at his face. John stopped knowing that there was probably a sniper trained on him judging by Sherlock's reaction. He looked over at Beth who looked as unconcerned as ever.
"Sherlock, my goodness you gain one friend and suddenly you have a little posse following you to your crime scene. Aren't Mr. Popular now?" A familiar Irish voice washed over them as Moriarty appeared out of the shadows. Sherlock steeled himself, he knew Moriarty would reveal his intentions given enough time.
"Jealous, Moriarty?" Sherlock sneered causing Jim to smile.
"Oh no no, it's been a real challenge to figure out Miss MI5." Beth took the acknowledgment as a cue to begin speaking.
"And what did little Jimmy find out about me?" She asked humor evident in her voice. Moriarty's grin fell for a moment, before returning in full force.
"You see gentlemen that woman is a fraud. Beth Dade isn't even your real name is it?" He said happy he had one up of this band of misfits. His thoughts processes jerked a little when 'Beth' didn't even stop her smug little grin.
"Did you want a a gold star or are you going to share with the class, Jimmy?" She asked chuckling at her weak joke.
"STOP LAUGHING!" Jim screamed, suddenly taken up by a fit of rage. She wasn't reacting at all how he had planned. Beth giggled at the Consulting Criminal.
"But it's so funny! Go on Jimmy tell them what you found. After all you are the clever one." She taunted lightly her smile dancing in her eyes.
"Your real name is Peg Marrier, born to Lisa and Tom Marrier. Life was normal until your 18th Birthday when the Yard found you covered in your parents blood. They had been killed right in front of you. The murderer tried to drown you in the blood, he escaped and was never seen again. And then you disappear into a black car and are never heard from again, until ten years later you appear at Sherlock's crime scene. Still hoping you'll find you mommy and daddy?" Moriarty spat out vindictively, watching as Sherlock and John were captivated by his tale. Suddenly John did something he had not expected, he began to laugh. Beth's eyes lit up with unadulterated joy.
"You've figured it out Dr. Watson!" She said happily, "I knew you would, Sherlock didn't have the right piece to make the picture fit."
"John what is it?" Sherlock asked looking at his near hysterical partner. John took a deep breath, this was all so ridiculous. He was in the sights of sniper, in front of the only other person smart enough to trick Sherlock and he had spent the last month with death. Calmer he spoke.
"The military has a saying, it's not very clever but I guess it's true. If you betray Queen and country the grim reaper is going to come and take you too your death bed." He paused to see if either man picked up on it. Sherlock was giving him a concerned look and Jim looked like he was going implode. Beth nodded, giving him encouragement to explain.
"Beth Dade and Peg Marrier?" He prompted knowing that both men were intelligent enough to understand. Sherlock whipped to look at Beth.
"It's an anagram. Beth Dade and Peg Marrier becomes Death Bed and Grim Reaper." He whispered trying to understand why her names would spell out such ominous things. Beth nodded her soft laughter filling the warehouse.
"So what? You were a government hit man, big deal I have several working for me." Moriarty sneered, covering up the fact that he knew every name of every hit man ever hired by the British government, none of them went by Grim Reaper or Death Bed. This was becoming more and more dangerous.
"Shall I tell you a bed time story Jimmy?" Beth whispered capturing the Irish man's attention.
"There was a girl, such an ordinary girl. She lived with her mother and father who loved her very much but it was all so ordinary. Then the little girl started killing animals, experimenting with pain levels. She even held a classmate hostage to see the effects of starvation on a psyche. The little boy was ten when he hung himself to escape the little girl. Her parents knew that their precious little girl was sick, but they loved her. Too much some might say. Instead of sending her away they sat her down and told her that if she was going to kill things, she couldn't get caught. They gave her books teaching her all the methods used in solving murders. As the little girl grew up the parents took out so many life insurance policies. Then when she turned 18 her parents gave her the greatest gift of them all. Their murder." Beth recited, her voice contorting into a dangerous sort of amusement. John listened with horror while Sherlock analyzed the words he was given. Moriarty appeared frozen unable to react to the words only trapped into listening.
"You should have been there Jimmy it was so beautiful. The love in their eyes while they bled out and all for me! I have never felt so much love. I nearly broke a rib laughing because it felt so good! I couldn't help myself drinking some and playing in it. I'll never forget the warmth of their love!" Beth informed Moriarty. Though the man appeared calm he was panicking on the inside. This situation had fallen so far beyond his control. Even the sniper trained on John would do no good. This Grim Reaper had him by the throat.
"And then the girl met someone else just like her! They told her how she was a rare gem in a sea of dirt. For ten years they played together, the girl made some friends. One of them is the British government. He would tell her stories of his little brother and she would do him favors. But the government made a mistake, he became all tangled up and was strangling his little brother as he tried to escape the ropes holding him. The girl didn't want the stories to end, so she promised to burn the ropes that held her friend." The words ended but all three men were rooted to their spots. At some point Beth's voice suddenly changed, gone was the laughing voice Sherlock and John had become accustom too. It was replaced with sounds that could not be described as human. There was no emotion to it, and yet it invoked more fear than the men had ever experienced. Then suddenly Moriarty laughed nervously.
"Burn me will you? Are you forgetting that I am the one with the snipers? I control all the criminals! You are nothing!" He spat gaining confidence back by his own voice. The small woman remained unfazed lifting her hands giving a click with her fingers. The small red dot vanished.
"Jimmy, I am everything. You are so pathetically small, you think that you are on top of the world. You are a fly on a mountain of feces." Beth informed him taking a step forward.
"Shut up, SHUT UP!" The criminal screamed, "You are on the side of the angels you have no power over my world!" Beth tilted her head a smile splitting her face, Moriarty knew in that moment that he was going to die.
"Hell was created by the Angels." She whispered into his ear.
"John! Look away!" Sherlock commanded tackling his friend forcibly covering the doctor's gentle blue eyes. The detective knew that whatever was coming neither of them should see. For all his curiosity, he couldn't bring himself to look. John struggled against the hand for a moment but fell limp when they both heard Moriarty scream. Sherlock and John both knew that the sound they had heard would haunt them until they were dead. It was the sound of man being pulled apart by meat hook each embedded very carefully into the major nerves of the body. For a moment Sherlock almost looked, he almost tried to save Moriarty. No creature should ever have to make that sound.
John felt tears well up in his eyes, and he knew Sherlock would feel them. The doctor had only contempt and vile hatred for the consulting criminal but he had his empathy. The only other time he had heard someone make that sound was in the war, when some intelligence agents had taken a prisoner and tortured him to death. John remembered crying then too, it hurt so much.
Just as abruptly as the scream started it ended. A damning silence held itself over the warehouse. For a moment neither Sherlock nor John could breath.
"You can look now boys, it's over." Beth's laughing voice crashed on them forcing air into their lungs. Sherlock stood quickly, but his legs were unsteady he tripped, stumbling over his own feet. John didn't bother trying to stand, his leg and shoulder were throbbing harshly. Sherlock managed to sputter out a sentence.
"You're a Psychopath." Sherlock emphasized the last word as though it answered everything. Beth nodded happily before turning to spit out what could only be blood.
"I am." She agreed. "Well, you two better run along. This mess needs to be cleaned up. Do tell your brother it went smashingly well. I can't imagine Jimmy causing him or you any more problems." It was then that John's eyes felt the need to focus on body behind the small woman.
Jim Moriarty had been destroyed, the suit he was in barely recognizable among the piece of entrails and skin. He looked as though Beth had ripped him open with her bare hands. John wasn't so sure she hadn't. Sherlock suddenly blocked his view.
"John we need to go now!" Sherlock informed him, trying to see why his flat mate hadn't stood yet. John shook his head, there was no way he could move on his own, not with his PTSD gripping him so tightly. Sherlock nodded before hoisting his friend up determined to act as a cane so long as they could leave the silvery haired woman behind them.
Beth watched the two stumble back out into the real world. She hoped that Mycroft would soon report the acknowledgement of one another's emotions. It would make the story all that more delicious. She wandered back over to the carnage she had left. She kicked the body before kneeling down.
"I've been in need of a pet sociopath since I got fed up with my last one. You'll do nicely Jimmy." She whispered to the crying body. She turned and walked away clicking her fingers three times. As she got into the car waiting out back the Reaper began to laugh. The world kept on spinning.