A Dish Best Served Cold
Summary: Moriarty is out rule the world once again and he's had it with Sherlock Holmes's interference. He has a plan, but the detective's friends may pay the ultimate price.
DisclaimerAll Publicly Recognizable Characters, Settings, Ideas, etc. are the Property of DiC Entertainment and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The Original Characters and Plot are the Property of the Author. The Author is in no way Associated with the Owners, Creators, or Producers of DiC Entertainment. No Copyright Infringement is intended.
Chapter 11 - Volunteer Work
Moriarty's 1st Base, Unknown Location in New London's Underground
"Excuse me?" Moriarty couldn't believe his ears—or his luck. The look of disbelief was quickly replaced with joy. Thiswould hurt Holmes.
"You want to hurt Holmes, torturing me will hurt him a lot more then what you have planned."
"You are aware that I will by no means restrain myself in your case, you shall be subjected to the same level of pain Holmes has endured thus far."
"Just let me see him."
"My dear Lestrade, I could not bare to deprive him of input where such a decision is concerned." Moriarty replied with a sadistic glint in his eyes as he turned a corner. "If you would be so good as to follow me."
Once they reached Holmes's door Moriarty opened it and gestured Lestrade inside upon doing so the inspector was immediately confronted by Holmes looking quite healthy sitting cross-legged on the floor reading a book. He looked up at her, a smile crossing his lips, then he saw Moriarty's smile and frowned, this could not be good.
"Holmes," Lestrade knelt down and hugged him; whispering what Deidre had told her as quickly as she could.
"I have good news Holmes," Moriarty informed the detective with a cheerfully grin in what could only be described as a 'My Day Has Been Made And Yours Is About To Go To Hell' tone of voice. "Lestrade has graciously volunteered to take your place in tomorrow's session."
Holmes paled. "Lestrade, what could have possibly possessed you to make such a decision!"
Moriarty's cheery grin became Cheshire cat(1) in nature and Lestrade had to fight the wince of pain as the detective's long fingers dug painfully into her shoulders.
Holmes was shaking with outrage at the criminal mastermind, he could not let Lestrade do this, 'How could she be so foolhardy?'
"I'm taking your place tomorrow," the inspector replied in a casual 'I'm Going Out To Get More Groceries' fashion.
"Holmes, really, you must attempt some control over your emotions, surely you did not think that I would exclude you from the decision?," Moriarty leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed and that damn Cheshire cat grin leering across his face, "If you are somehow able to influence the inspector's decision to the contrary…."
The statement hung meaningfully in the air.
Holmes pulled Lestrade towards him and whispered in her ear. "You have appraised me of all necessary information, now kindly inform our companion that you have reconsidered your decision." His tone was ice cold and glare dagger sharp.
Lestrade had never seen him this angry before—save when he had spoken to Broady, and yet this anger was not directed at her, it's purpose was to express the deep responsibility Holmes felt for her, his need to protect her and the Irregulars, to keep them safe.
"You almost died yesterday!" her voice was nearly as sharp, "I don't care how easy he says he'll go on you. You can't take it."
"Lestrade, you of all people should be aware of the fact that will is always an important factor, and it is an attribute which I posses in considerable amounts." His fingers dug deeper into her flesh. "Lestrade, I beg of you, as my friend, to reconsider, you do not know the full extent of its effects!"
She shook her head. "I'm sorry Holmes, I have to do this."
"There is no need for you to feel any guilt as a result of past events, the situation was and is beyond your control."
Lestrade glared she had some control and she was going to use it "This isn't about me! Or my conscience! This is about you and the fact that you can't take it. Like it or not you are human. You have limits."
"Lestrade…" Holmes growled in exasperated anger, he had to convince her to change her mind. "The agony you witnessed, that was nothing in comparison to what you will experience."
Lestrade shook her head.
"You know that's not going to work."
Holmes sighed with impotent anger, she was right, if anything it would only make her more determined. Briefly he wondered where she got it from; her ancestor hadn't been this annoying.
"Lestrade, you will now inform Moriarty that you had for some unknown reason taken temporary leave of your senses. You will then request to be returned to your room, with the assurance that you will never again broach the subject of substitution where my fate is concerned." He had never been more commanding, but Lestrade didn't care.
The inspector reached back and gently eased his fingers from her shoulders, placing his hands in front of him she leaned towards him and once again whispered the escape plan making sure he knew what to do. Then she spoke aloud so that Moriarty could hear.
"I'm not going to change my mind. I'm taking your place tomorrow and that's final." Standing she headed towards the door and not sparing Holmes another look she turned to Moriarty. "We're done here"
"That could not be further from the truth!" Holmes lunged upwards to be cruelly jerked back by the shackles which restrained him. "No!" he roared furiously as the door closed behind Moriarty and Lestrade's departing forms, pulling uselessly against his binds: "No!"
00o00
Moriarty showed Lestrade to her room, "I shall see to it you are brought something to eat. Should you feel hungry at any time you have only to make your request to the camera, feel free to indulge yourself, you may have anything you wish."
Lestrade looked at the criminal's retreating back, trying to decipher the reason for the euphoria in Moriarty's voice. Then it struck her, it was the attitude of any child psychotic killer that had just been given a kitten for their birthday and been told by dear old mom that they can kill it.
Lestrade ran her fingers through her hair with deliberation.
"Zed, I'm dead."
00o00
Still floating on Cloud Nine, Moriarty decided to have a little private chat with his favourite torture-toy.
Holmes glared at Moriarty as the man reappeared in his cell, "What do you require from me in order to induce you to sway your intentions to subject Lestrade to your sadistic tendencies?"
"There is nothing to be done Holmes, the dye is cast, you will remember that it was her decision, indeed it was her idea to volunteer, but rest assured she shall have the option of reconsideration at any time"
"At my expense."
"Of course," Moriarty sighed blissfully, "I must admit, its perfection is undeniable."
"I swear Moriarty, I should never have thought it, but you have at last reached a point where there can be no comprehension of your insanity. You have my word that I shall not rest until I have rid the world of your pestilence!" Holmes spat though clenched teeth.
"Mind your tongue Holmes!" Moriarty snapped, the blissful look fading slightly, "Have you forgotten your position?"
Hatred radiated from the detective.
"I shall order my men to procure another chair for your use tomorrow, there will, of course, be retrains attached but I shall do my utmost to ensure your comfort." Moriarty said with all the solicitousness of a host truly concerned for the guests in his care.
Holmes clenched his jaw, not trusting himself to not say something that Moriarty would make him regret. The earlier Cheshire cat grin returned as the criminal departed.
00o00
The next morning Holmes awoke to three men bringing in a very heavy chair. It was metal and had armrest's with built in restraints, leather belts that would cover his chest and wrists. They placed it against the left wall, perpendicular to the chair Moriarty used. He decided he wasn't getting into it without a fight. He glared at the guards. They merely smiled and taking out a remote, pressed a button. Immediately the cords retracted into the wall, taking Holmes with them.
As they walked out Kerai entered.
"I heard your girlfriend volunteered to take your punishment today. Aren't you lucky?"
Holmes glared and snarled, "Explain your presence or depart, the later would be far more congenial."
"I'm here to watch that inspector get what she deserves, she is very rude. Moriarty said we could watch if we helped set up."
Before he could form a reply, the woman was at his side, fingers hitting pressure points in his chest and Holmes felt his left leg go numb.
"It'll only last for about five minutes," Kerai grinned as she injected Holmes with a sedative that Moriarty had given to her. "Don't want you kicking me while I give you this."
Holmes merely sighed in annoyance as he felt the drugged blanket of sleep drag him under. Women.
He awoke half an hour later to find himself seated and restrained in the chair that the guards had brought in earlier, still lethargic from the sedative his body had yet to completely metabolise. The sight of Lestrade clad in a violet top, grey pants, black shoes, and in the shackles however had a revitalising effect upon his mind.
Her back was to the wall and her hands at the level of her eyes since the cords of the shackles were as tight as they could be. Moriarty was sitting comfortably in his chair, settled in as if he were about to watch a good movie.
"Ah Holmes, so good of you join us, you slept well I trust?" His tone reminded the detective of a child on Christmas morning.
"Lestrade was beginning to fear for your health. Now," the criminal continued addressing Lestrade, "You are aware inspector, that should you at any time wish Holmes to take your place, you have to state your request for it to be granted."
Lestrade nodded, "Cut the pleasantries Moriarty; let's just get this over with."
The criminal sighed at the loss of an anticipated moment and brought out the remote, immediately cheering up again.
"Lestrade, I beg of you," Holmes's voice was a naked plea. "Please reconsider."
Lestrade shook her head and Moriarty smiled as his finger pushed the button, "No doubt level twenty five would be the ideal starting point."
Lestrade' tensed and grimaced but said nothing. She just stood there. Holmes also remained silent as he watched; a look of horror in his eyes. Moriarty kept alternating his gaze between Holmes and Lestrade. Enjoying the look on both their faces, after fifteen minutes Moriarty deactivated the shackles.
"Now Lestrade, would you prefer to advance to level fifty? Or should we linger at thirty-five for a time?"
"Which will get me out of here faster?" Lestrade said between short gasps.
Moriarty smiled merrily, "You could—"
"Don't even suggest I switch places with Holmes—it's no going to happen!"
"Lestrade, there is nothing to be gained from this." Holmes pleaded.
"Quiet Holmes."
"Very well, it would seem we advance." Moriarty said with false disappointment as he pressed the button.
"Aahh—" Lestrade tried to remain silent but it was hard. Through sheer force of will she held her tongue. She had never felt such pain, she could barely think but what was still coherent wasn't good. 'Ifthis is fifty,I wonder what one hundred is like'
She managed not to cry out but occasionally her body would convulse. Holmes continued to look on, horrified.
"Lestrade," he cried, "you have endured enough, please you've only to give the word and you can end it!"
"Shut up Holme-aah—" 'Note to self,' thought Lestrade, 'Don't talk, makes not screaming harder.'
This went on for another several minutes then Moriarty turned the dial, "and so we advance further, would seventy five suffice do you think Lestrade?"
"No!" Holmes screamed; knowing that level would cause internal bleeding. Lestrade could drown in her own blood.
Moriarty smirked and pushed the button. Lestrade screamed.
"Aahhh!" Try as she might the inspector could not suppress a scream that was more blood curdling then any even Holmes had uttered.
"Stop!" Holmes' scream could scarcely be heard over Lestrade's painful cries. "You're killing her stop!"
Lestrade was lost to the world beyond her pain, no longer aware that her screams had become one long wail of agony that pierced the great detective's soul.
Pain was all she knew. Nothing else existed beyond sensation of being aflame, like she was been torn limb from limb and dumped into acid all at once. Holmes continued to plead.
"Stop! Sto—" Holmes's cry was cut short when he saw Lestrade had started to cough up blood. He paled. "You're killing her, stop! Please!"
Moriarty looked at Holmes a sneer on his face. He was enjoying making Holmes beg for his friends. He shook his head and turned his attention back to Lestrade whose body was convulsing uncontrollably. Blood flowed from her mouth as she started to cough it up in her body's attempt to prevent it from filling her lungs.
All Holmes could see was the red; Lestrade was covered in it, and for him, that was the reason for her torment, to save him the same agony. Red flowed from her very being, her precious soul weeping its life force out onto the floor.
After nearly ten minutes had passed Moriarty deactivated the shackles, Lestrade felt her legs give out, she was being held up only by the shackles which were digging into her wrist.
The criminal rose from his chair and walked over to his victim, bending down so he was eye level with her. "Have you perhaps reconsidered you decision?"
Lestrade spat blood out onto Moriarty's face. "Go…to…hell—" before she then continued to cough up more blood. Her voice was barely a whisper but Holmes heard it, he almost smiled, Lestrade was not broken.
Moriarty sneered and rose to his full height, he pulled out a handkerchief, and with slow deliberation wiped his face, then with a truculent smile he punched Lestrade in the stomach. She cried out briefly and vomited blood, drenching Moriarty's front as a few more drops splashed onto his face.
"Stop!" yelled Holmes. "Moriarty, you must desist, you are killing her. Your quarrel is with me."
"Precisely, you, the great detective, voice of the oppressed would gladly die to spare her the torment which she now endures, the irony is quite fantastic. She was quite right Holmes, this is a far more effective, not to mention, enjoyable method of tormenting you."
Holmes became terrified that Moriarty would start using Lestrade on a regular basis. The criminal seemed to read his mind.
"I shall only take advantage of her presence upon her bringing it to my attention." Knowing Lestrade, Holmes did not find this the least bit comforting.
Lestrade was only half listening. Blood continued to drip from her mouth down her chin and onto the floor, occasionally she would cough and more would come gushing out.
Moriarty sat down once more and took out the remote. "My, my, how time flies when one is enjoying one's self, we will now commence with level one hundred baring any objections."
"No!" Holmes shouted "I shall do anything you wish! I beg of you, stop!"
Moriarty laughed and questioned Holmes with a raised eyebrow. "Anything I wish?" Suddenly his face became dark as he said in an even tone. "What I wish, Sherlock Holmes, is your eternal torment,"
A finger descended upon the button once again.
Lestrade's scream was if possible even louder and more blood curdling then before.
"Aahhhhh!" she cried in one long ear-splitting shriek that seemed to cause the walls to vibrate
Holmes watched in horror, straining futilely against his bonds. Lestrade's body was convulsing uncontrollably, she was coughing and vomiting more blood then he thought she had. Holmes was about to yell at Moriarty again when Lestrade stopped screaming.
Her body gave out, the only thing holding her up were the shackles. She was twitching and was no longer coughing up blood, Holmes knew that only meant she would drown in her it.
"You must end this now! Before her condition becomes irreparable!"
Moriarty loosened the cords so that Lestrade fell on her side to the floor. Blood started to flow from her mouth again as her body, soaked in sweat continued to twitch.
Moriarty, wretch that he was, was attempting to prolong Lestrade's resistance in order to continue with his 'entertainment.'
"You are killing her," Holmes's voice was barley a horse whisper.
Moriarty smirked and deactivated the shackles. He banged on the door and a medical team entered.
They unlocked the shackles and after checking Lestrade's vitals, moved her onto a stretcher and out of the room.
After the medical team had gone, Moriarty smiled, "Well, I for once found that little diversion extremely entertaining. I certainly hope we are able to repeat the experience in future."
"I shall not rest until you are dead, Moriarty" Holmes's voice was that of a damned man making an eternal vow.
Smirking, Moriarty turned to face Holmes. "You are in no position to give threats."
The criminal left with those words, leaving Holmes alone to stare at the blood of one of his dearest friends.
Footnote:
(1) Cheshire cat noun, a cat with a broad grin in Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. (Yes, it's in the dictionary.)
Well I hope you all enjoyed the double feature next week the great escape.
Oh for those of you interested the pictures will be delayed I knew I was forgetting something when I was packing….
