==Chapter 10==
Any Means Necessary
Courage isn't having the strength to go on – it is going on when you don't have strength.
– Napoléon Bonaparte
Both Holmes and Watson were all but nodding off as the cab rolled to a stop outside 221B. The break-in had been a complete success with Watson standing sentry, Holmes taking great care this time to allow the constable's footsteps to die away in the fog before jemmying the area door open. As he had suspected, there were indeed traces of Arthur West's blood upon the kitchen stairs and the windowsill; and they hadn't long to wait before a train halted under that very same window, the rounded roof of a carriage less than five feet below. Far more satisfying than that confirmation, however, had been the discovery which saw them hastening to the Daily Telegraph office, mercifully still open at this ungodly hour... before heading... back...
Watson jolted fully awake when the cab stopped, and patted his friend's shoulder. "Come on, old man, we're home." And didn't it feel lovely to say that... He got down and waited while Holmes paid the cabbie, then walked up the steps to unlock the door. Yawning, he glanced up at the lighted sitting room windows and frowned. "Holmes, what time is it?"
Holmes dug in his pocket for his watch. "Nearly midnight – I do hope Beth hasn't waited up for us." Though he wouldn't be surprised if she'd simply been unable to sleep...
Watson shrugged, unlocking and opening the front door. "It's probably the Doctor." He stepped inside and lowered his voice. "Although Katherine is still waking in the middle of the night sometimes."
Sally came down the stairs, relieved to have her husband safely home. Smiling, she held a finger to her lips and whispered, "Evening, gentlemen. Or should I say, 'Good morning'?"
Watson returned the smile. "Good evening, love." He met her on the stairs and kissed her.
"Beth has turned in, I trust?" Even the settee would be fine with Holmes just now.
Sally's smile vanished with her good mood, tensing. "I thought she was with you."
Holmes's head snapped up, eyes wide. "She isn't back yet? "
Sally's eyes were just as wide, her heart suddenly pounding rapidly. "When was she supposed to come back?"
"Beth's unaccounted for?" Nikola appeared at the top of the stairs, bleary eyed and frowning.
Watson nodded anxiously up at him. Beth couldn't be in danger now, not again—she had literally returned to life not twenty-four hours ago!
"I saw her off myself from the restaurant, hours ago..." The blood drained from Holmes's face, sick with horror. "...oh God, no..." What had he been thinking, it was madness to have let Beth travel anywhere alone! Moriarty had chosen his moment perfectly...
Sally went white, feeling lightheaded with terror. "She didn't... didn't come... oh, God..."
Watson grabbed Holmes's arm, supporting him and then sitting him down on the stairs. "Steady on, old fellow. Deep breaths..." He lowered his voice to a comforting murmur, belying his own fear. "Beth's alive, Holmes, she must be. We're going to get her back, all right?"
Holmes nodded jerkily, instinctively obeying. Moriarty doesn't want Beth dead, remember? You can still help her... but only if you calm down and think, you're no good to her like this!
Hastily seating himself on the stairs, Nikola closed his eyes and concentrated the hardest he ever had, although with little hope of success. He still couldn't understand why he hadn't even sensed Beth being taken, from her or the TARDIS! Unless... unless Moriarty had somehow taken advantage of his exhaustion? The Professor could conceivably have jammed Nikola's 'radar' while he slept – it was only a mercy he hadn't done anything else!
Trembling, Sally sat down heavily two steps up from John and Sherlock. Not Beth, not again... She had to be all right—she had to be! For more than just her own sake... Poor Sherlock—Sally knew all too well what he must be going through right now.
Nikola reluctantly emerged after a few seconds, shaking his head. "I can't sense her –" adding hastily, "Holmes, no, I don't mean that! When she went to rescue you from Torchwood, she was out of my 'sight' then, too. Moriarty has some kind of shield over that place, I can't penetrate it from the outside."
Holmes sagged in relief, feeling marginally less ill than he had a moment ago, then pursed his lips thoughtfully. "But from the inside? " Whatever defences Torchwood might have in place, the detective was certain they were no match for the TARDIS.
"Has anyone seen the... Doctor...?" Coming up from the kitchen, George stopped dead on seeing the grim gathering on the stairs. "...oh no..."
"Beth is missing," Sally told him. He paled—she had noticed he'd grown pretty attached to the only other born-and-bred American in the gang...
Watson frowned. "Where is the Doctor?" The Time Lord's absence was suddenly very conspicuous.
"He went out to do some work on the TARDIS after you left, but there's no sign of him! And the TARDIS sounded awfully worried when I asked her, though I couldn't make it out exactly..."
Nikola was already hurrying down the stairs, dashing through the house and out the back door with Holmes close behind.
Watson followed after, silently praying that they hadn't lost both Beth and the Doctor. If they had, heaven only knew how they'd manage to get them back!
"Wait." Holmes hauled Nikola up by his shoulder at the back door, bending to check the ground ahead. Damn, there'd been so many people coming and going in the last few hours, including the Irregulars. Further on, however... "Ah!" One set of tracks had suddenly veered off from right in front of the TARDIS, down Siddons Lane towards Regent's Park.
Nikola waited for the detective to move off, then entered the TARDIS, who burst into a flurry of concerned twitters. "Yes, draga, we know. Can you help us get them back?"
The console flared to life with a determined string of beeps and whistles: You know how to fly me, little one.
Nikola smiled, touched. "It would be an honour."
Outside, Watson hesitated for a moment, knowing that Nikola might well get the proper information more quickly, but followed Holmes. "Is it the Doctor's trail?"
Holmes halted at a muddy patch of ground, pointing to a clear impression of the toe of a left shoe, with a very distinctive tread. "Well, I highly doubt anyone else in this time period wears converse trainers."
"Good point."
Gather at the control room, everyone – council of war.
Startled by Nikola's call, Holmes hesitated, reluctant to leave any potential evidence... but there really was nothing else they could do here, no amount of clues on the street would help them get Beth or the Doctor back. On our way.
I can't come, Sally sent back in frustration. Was it always going to be like this? When her husband or her best friend was in danger, was she always going to have to stay behind? I need to stay with Kathy.
"Well, perhaps we could wake Mrs. Hudson?" George certainly wasn't about to tell Sally not to take part in this mission!
Sally was genuinely tempted for a moment... but only a moment. Kathy understood a lot but not always—sometimes, like every other baby, she just wanted her mother. And it would be beyond inconsiderate to wake Mrs. Hudson, especially when Sally didn't even know if she herself was needed. Considering how little experience she had in the adventure department, she didn't think she was, and she didn't want to be a liability in a bad moment. She shook her head. "No, I should get back up to the baby..." She closed her eyes against the tears welling up in them. Come on, calm down, you'll wake Kathy if you go up upset.
George raised Sally to her feet, wrapping his arms around her. "It's going to be all right, Sally – they'll bring her back safely, you'll see."
She wiped away her tears and hugged him tightly back, biting her lip and nodding. "I'm scared," she whispered. She was terrified for all of them.
"Have faith, sweetheart. Trust me, Moriarty's in way over his head with both Nikola and the Doctor!" George hoped he sounded far more confident than he felt. He'd seen the end result of what Moriarty had done to the Doctor... and Nikola's gift, although decidedly useful in a tight spot, was also purely defensive.
Sally smiled wanly for George's sake. He was so sweet, and he always had been. She didn't feel any better, but she also didn't want him to worry about her. "...I'd better get back upstairs before the baby wakes up."
George let her go, smiling proudly – at a time like this, staying out of a fight took just as much courage as being on the front line. Heading back out to the TARDIS, he found Holmes and Watson already in the control room with Nikola, the telepath running his hands lightly over the console. "Nikola, is she in any kind of shape to make it to Torchwood?"
The TARDIS twittered at him cheerfully before Nikola could answer.
"Sounds like a 'yes' to me," Watson said wryly.
Nikola left off reacquainting himself with the controls. "But before going anywhere..." He looked at Holmes and Watson gravely. "Are either of you aware of the full extent of Moriarty's... abilities?"
Watson frowned. "His psychic abilities? I was under the impression they were quite extensive." And they could not have been bestowed upon a less worthy subject...
Holmes mirrored the frown. "How extensive?" Fool that he was, he'd never so much as questioned whether Moriarty might have more mental powers!
"Well, his time sensitivity probably went dormant along with mine when Time froze, but it will have reactivated since. And yes, there is more... I saw what Moriarty did to the Doctor after we lost contact." Nikola shivered. "To cut a very unpleasant story short, Moriarty is capable of getting inside someone's head and making them experience their worst fears. I will do everything I can to protect all of us, but if that isn't enough..." At the very least, they should all be prepared not to trust their senses.
Watson paled. "Good God... "
Holmes's face was grim – he didn't dare allow himself to imagine what Moriarty might be doing to Beth... "Well, then... it's a good thing we've already lived them, for the most part."
Watson winced—a month ago, in Frozen Time, he would have agreed, but he was a father again. If he was made to feel the fear of losing his child for a second time, he didn't know what he'd do. "Not… not entirely… "
Holmes reached out and grasped Watson's shoulder, his tight grip eloquent: he, too, would do whatever it took to keep their family safe.
George didn't need to be a telepath, either, to know which way Watson's thoughts tended; to him, Sally and Beth had become like the daughters he'd never been blessed with. "Well, you've got one less to worry about, Nikola – someone has to stay here with the other women." If Moriarty had learnt about Kathy, he wouldn't put it past Torchwood to wait until the TARDIS had gone before attempting another kidnapping.
Watson turned to the American in sheer relief; he knew that his wife could shoot and hit a target, but he felt better with her having backup. "Thank you, George."
Holmes turned to Nikola. "Well, it seems safe to assume that Moriarty knows you and George are here in London."
Nikola nodded ruefully. "And he'll probably be expecting me to fly the TARDIS. Unfortunately, walking straight into the dragon's mouth is the only option we've got."
Watson sighed and dragged a hand down his face—he'd been afraid of that. In the past, Holmes had occasionally had very definite plans of attack in dangerous situations, but in more cases than Watson would ever publish, they would run into danger and trust to their luck. He had never enjoyed it in the past, and he didn't look forward to it now. "I don't suppose we have any notion of what to do beyond that? "
Holmes shook his head miserably. "I wish I did." Of all the worst possible times not to have a plan...
"Although given Moriarty's talents," George hastened to point out, "you're probably better off improvising, anyway."
Watson nodded, grimly conceding the point, and then the next moment, the TARDIS twittered urgently.
George gave the console an apologetic smile. "That sounds like my cue. Good luck, gentlemen." He shook hands hastily with the other three, then headed out.
As George closed the door, Watson drew his revolver and checked it: the barrel was loaded. Good.
"Right." Nikola closed his eyes and took a deep breath, meshing his consciousness closer with the TARDIS. It seemed far too long to him since he'd last done this... "Hold tight, you two, this could be a rough ride."
Expecting that, Watson nodded and moved over to one of the struts to grab it.
Holmes grabbed for the handrail, trying to respond lightly, "Oh, we're well used to that."
Watson gave a strained chuckle, recalling the shock of his first flight. Looking to Nikola, he said, "Ready when you are."
The telepath crossed his fingers, murmuring, "All right, draga – let's do him proud." He threw down the lever, and the TARDIS shuddered into the Vortex. She was still so weak... Nikola patted her console encouragingly between flipping switches, keeping his feet with difficulty. Easy, sweetheart.
A strained but grimly determined bleeping came back: she would hold together.
Holmes exchanged a look with Watson; this was the first time they'd seen anyone besides the Doctor flying the ship before, and it was an awe-inspiring sight!
Meanwhile, Nikola swore under his breath, this wasn't nearly as easy as it might look. Hi, ease up on the space-time throttle, came a sudden voice in his head, you're going to overshoot. The telepath looked up sharply and saw a vision of his child self also standing at the console, indicating the right control. Second gear will do.
Nikola laughed under his breath, resetting the lever, and began the landing sequence. Thanks. "All right, everyone, brace for impact, we're going in!"
"Believe me," Watson called back, "we're always ready!" Although it had been such a long time… The chaotic motion of the TARDIS almost felt comforting after having been earthbound for so long.
"For what it's worth..." Holmes muttered. He could tell himself until he was blue in the face that Moriarty wouldn't allow Beth to be harmed unless he had no alternative... But what if he doesn't?
Moriarty's voice sounded on Moran's device. "Colonel, we're ready to begin. Would you care to join us?"
Moran scowled faintly at the interruption. "Delighted, sir. Shall we, my dear?"
Oh thank God. Beth said nothing but gave the tiniest nod. She was exhausted and upset—and very much traumatised for life—but above all, deal or no deal, she really was going to kill Moran the first chance she got. I wonder what's going on now? She was afraid to find out; it couldn't be anything good. But even if she didn't want to see the Professor again right now after what happened in her head, she really did not want to spend one moment more alone with the complete bastard he called his right-hand man.
Moran wrapped his arm around the girl's waist, raised her and pulled her tightly into his side, caressing her hip. His smile became a leer as she shuddered involuntarily. "I hope you've enjoyed yourself as much as I have, my dear – we must do this again soon."
Beth hissed through gritted teeth. "Still burn in hell," she said in low, raw voice.
"As long as you burn with me, sweetheart…" he murmured back as they left the room.
After a stressful hour, which was really phenomenal time even for a Time Lord, the Doctor had Nikola's machine ready not only to cure Moriarty's aging but also transform him. At least, as much as the Doctor could figure: it wasn't as though he could properly test it. He knew, too, that Moriarty was working against a tight deadline: some psychics actually knew the exact date of their death, and Moriarty knew his. It was past midnight now... so that date was today.
A door opened, and Moran entered, pulling Beth close along beside him. She wasn't holding her head up, but the Doctor could see that her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was damp with sweat. Oh, Beth, no... So much for 'safety'.
Moriarty turned, smiling. "Ah, good. I trust you two behaved for each other?" Although it was clear that Moran had behaved precisely as instructed.
"Mrs. Holmes has behaved admirably, Professor. She'll be a great credit to us, I believe, given time."
Beth raised head fractionally at that, flickering a glare up at the Colonel. Only her fear of the Professor kept her mouth closed when she so dearly wanted to snap back at Moran.
At the same time, the Doctor paled. Of course he'd known Beth's raw potential all along—but he'd never even thought about Moriarty recognising it, much less wanting to ensnare her for it.
Moriarty smirked, opening the capsule. "Indeed." Looking hard at the Doctor, "You are quite certain this is ready?" He didn't yet have the power to break past the Time Lord's impressive mental shields unassisted, but one look in the man's eyes was enough: too much barely-contained fear to entertain any notions of betrayal.
The Doctor clenched his jaw, but unclenched it to speak. "As certain as I can be." He'd done his best, but at the end of the day, it was still a gamble and Moriarty had to know that.
The Professor nodded – as much as it galled him, he didn't exactly have any alternative! – then turned to nod at Moran.
The Colonel nodded back, jaw tightening as Moriarty climbed into the capsule and shut the door after himself. He might not approve, but God help the Doctor if anything were to go wrong, accidental or otherwise...
The Doctor powered the machine up, glancing over at Moran and Beth as he did and catching Moran's eye. The warning in the soldier's eyes was clear, and it angered the Doctor to see it, after what Moran had clearly already done to Beth! "I said I'd do it, and I did," the Time Lord said tightly. "And it looks like the meaning of 'safety' is even more elastic than I thought."
Moran arched an eyebrow, daring the Doctor to comment further; he should be grateful Beth was still all in one piece. "Get on with it."
The Doctor started up the sequence, and decided he could push just a bit further. "Holmes is going to kill you, you know." After what Moran had already done to Beth and was still doing to her, there was no way he was coming out alive of his next encounter with Sherlock.
The Colonel's eyes narrowed. "An impressive feat for a corpse."
The Doctor arched an eyebrow in return and smirked slightly. "I have never loved, Watson," the story version of Holmes had once said, "but if I did and if the woman I loved had met such an end, I might act even as our lawless lion-hunter has done." A man who had technically murdered, but killed the murderer of his beloved the exact same way the murderer had done. Moran really had no idea...
Familiar blue lightning began to arc around the machine, sparks of static discharging off of everything and everyone.
Moran's eyes bulged at the display, it all looked far too much like the early Rift energy experiments for his liking... and then his hand clapped automatically to the handle of his revolver at the sudden scream of agony that echoed from inside the chamber.
Beth stiffened, grimacing in sympathy—even if it was Moriarty screaming! As the sound continued, she wished she could cover her ears, tears involuntarily springing to her eyes.
The scream cut off abruptly, and the machine powered down. The Doctor exhaled grimly, hoping that Moriarty could make it out of the chamber on his own. He didn't want a repeat of the psychic flash between him and the young version of Nikola; nor, he was sure, would Moriarty.
Moran slackened his grip slightly on his still-holstered firearm, though not allowing himself to relax yet. "Is it done?"
The Doctor nodded tersely. When Moran gestured impatiently for him to open the chamber, the Time Lord did so and stepped back. Moriarty was crumpled on the floor, face-down but still breathing, but the Doctor still made no move to help him—he didn't dare.
"Get him out of there." Moran would have done it himself if he'd thought he could trust the Time Lord or the girl one iota.
The Doctor sighed. "I don't think I can. If I so much as touch him, it could be devastating—we're both telepaths. " Who knew how Moriarty might react in an unguarded moment like this?
Moran gave the Doctor a look of deep suspicion, but then nodded to one of the armed guards, who put away his weapon and came forward.
"...Director?"
Moriarty stirred as he felt himself being lifted, eyes fluttering open. He felt... light... so light... as if a lifetime of crushing weight had just now been lifted from every inch of his frame, his mind... Dear heavens, his mind... What had once been such exquisite but maddeningly faint music was now a symphony... He swayed slightly as he stood with help from the guard, half drunk on sheer sensation, his new, younger body thrumming with energy, a four-beat rhythm pounding in his breast... It worked... A breathless laugh escaped him. It worked!
"Sir?" A relieved but still wary Moran caught Moriarty's eye as he turned.
Moriarty bestowed a benevolent smile on his lieutenant, touched by the obvious concern, and replied simply, "It worked. All of it." Even the sense of urgency had blessedly faded from what he had unconsciously begun calling his 'appointed hour'; he could now all but see his newly regenerated timeline stretching ahead of him, decades upon centuries upon millennia... What couldn't a being such as he achieve with such a gift?
Beth glanced back and forth between the two men, eyes wide—there was definitely more to this than she was being let in on. It wasn't just Moriarty's ageing being fixed, and not because the man looked no older now than Sherlock...
Moran nodded slowly. "Your orders, then, Professor?"
Moriarty drew the sonic screwdriver from his coat pocket, toying with it, then looked back up at the Doctor. "Our guests must be seen to their quarters." He pointed the multitool at Tesla's machine to close the chamber, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Elizabeth. "It's been a pleasure, Doctor."
The Doctor lifted his chin, eyes blazing. Of course it was possible for humans to use the sonic screwdriver, but for Moriarty to have used it so effortlessly... use his favourite tool so effortlessly... "Forgive me if I can't say the same."
"And I am afraid I have one more request to make of you, but it may have to wait a few hours."
The Doctor eyed the Professor warily. "What is it?"
"I require a piece of coral from your TARDIS." Moriarty was certain that Tesla would be flying the Doctor's ship here in due course, although for some strange reason he couldn't see precisely when...
The Doctor paled, eyes widening at the pure avarice gleaming in Moriarty's. "No." Beth, not even for your sake... The lifespan of a Time Lord was one thing, but the Doctor would be damned before he gave Moriarty the means with which to change all of time and space to suit his whims.
Meanwhile, Moran had reholstered his gun, tightening his hold on the girl's waist. "Time for bed, little one..." he whispered gleefully in her ear.
Beth's last bit of self-control snapped. She screamed in pure frustration, twisting suddenly and violently, trying to ram her elbow into his stomach.
Cursing, Moran let go and backhanded the little bitch across the face, knocking her to the floor with a cry of pain.
"Beth!" The Doctor started forward, only to be stopped once again by a debilitating jolt of electricity.
"What the devil…!"
The Colonel was pulled up short by Moriarty's tone of icy fury, eyes glinting. "Pardon the interruption, Professor – the girl still needs breaking in, it seems..."
Gasping in pain, Beth rolled onto her back and glared at Moran, her eyes burning with so much hate that she could have burnt him to ashes if she'd been able to. Then, she felt a piece of discarded wire beneath her hands. I have hairpins and I know how to use them... She slid it into her sleeve and positioned the tip at the lock of her cuffs, sliding it in and beginning to work at them. She didn't know exactly what she would do once the cuffs were open, but she wasn't going to throw away this unexpected bit of luck.
The Professor's eyes narrowed, studying the pair intently. Moran's preoccupation with bedding his enemy's wife was bordering on the verge of obsession, a distraction Moriarty would be ill-advised to tolerate... On the other hand, his new protégé's willful streak did need managing. In fact, now that he considered the issue, there seemed no particular reason for a newly-born Time Lord to honour any agreements he might have made in his unrefined human state. "In that case, Colonel..."
VWOOORP! VWOOOOORP!