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 9 - An Eventful and Horrible Day
Moriarty's 1st Base, Unknown Location in New London's Underground
"I trust you slept well." Moriarty inquired maliciously as he stepped across the threshold of Holmes' cell.
"The rumours regarding the discomfort of metal floors have been greatly exaggerated."
"You've been keeping far too much company with the good inspector."
"On the contrary I had the pleasure of hearing that complaint from young Deidre."
"Ah yes, that reminds me Holmes, your charming companions are waiting in the next room. If you wouldn't mind, I am sure you will agree that to keep them waiting any longer would be quite unforgivable."
Holmes raised his eyebrows. He was going to see the Irregulars? Was he to be tortured in their presence?
Four guards entered, two grabbed Holmes as Moriarty used his remote to undo the shackles. He then turned and walked out followed by two of his guards, then Holmes, in the company of the remaining two guards fell into line as well. Both kept their ionizers trained on Holmes. The detective was lead to a room he recognized as the one which Wiggins had been beaten in.
In fact, the oldest Irregular himself as well as Deidre were tied to chairs and Tennyson's chair was being held in place with some restraints that secured it to the floor. Wiggins was in the middle and across from them with two guards levelling ionizers at her was Inspector Lestrade. Both groups were staring at Holmes, not used to seeing him without a vest and tie, it was quite obvious that they were all finding the fact that he had a tired collar just plain unnatural, even disturbing.
Unless Holmes was pretending to be someone else he never allowed his clothing to be anything other then unwrinkled and well tailored. Moriarty gestured to a place between the two groups, where, near the far wall a pair of forebodingly familiar shackles hung from the ceiling.
The guards lead Holmes over to them and cuffed him in. Holmes braced himself mentally as his hands were secured above his head. The floor was so cold that he could feel it penetrating the bottom of his shoes. Stepping forward in front of his victim Moriarty then waved the guards off to the side.
"Now Lestrade," he said, retrieving the dreaded remote from his pocket and stepping towards her "here is the remote, the use of which you have seen the result of, you turn the dial situated on the front to adjust the level of effect. You press this button to activate and deactivate the electric current, this other button causes the cords to retract further into the wall or the opposite." He then, despite the look of horror written across her features, slipped the remote between Lestrade's' fingers. "Begin with level twenty five."
"I'd sooner die!" she retaliated, glaring at him, her arm outstretched as if to keep the remote as far away from herself as possible.
Holmes paled. He knew her to be serious.
The criminal sighed. "Lestrade, clearly you do not understand the nature of your situation, you are to do as I say or there will be severe consequences, namely Watson's destruction and several more quite unpleasantdevelopments concerning the health both mental and physical of your young companions, namely the boys use as understudies, and miss Deidre's use as entertainment for the more depraved men in my employee, should they prove reluctant."
Lestrade's eye widened, images of what Moriarty was insinuating flashing through her brain. She glanced at Holmes, she couldn't hurt him, not after all he'd been through, she couldn't…but she had to, there was no way around it, it wasn't her life that was on the line, it was everything but.
Holmes was staring back at her pleadingly, upon seeing her eyes lock on his, he nodded.
"Do as he says."
"Now inspector…" Moriarty trailed off suggestively, a sadistic grin spreading across his face.
Lestrade, after checking decided that the shackles were at a fairly comfortable height (as comfortable as such things could be) did not adjust them further. She pressed the button, Holmes made no sound, not a whimper escaped his lips. And yet somehow that made it all the worse. The expression on his face was unforgettable, and told not only of the pain he was enduring now, but the experiences before it. Lestrade was about to deactivate the shackles when Moriarty brought her up short
"I do not recall authorizing you to change the settings Inspector."
While everyone waited for Moriarty to give the word, all Holmes could do was stare at the Irregulars, Wiggins was angrier then the detective had ever seen him before, he fought his binds, wrenching his arms in a way which must be extremely painful. Horror was plainly written across Deidre's face, and her breathing was forced, but it was Tennyson who made his mentor's condition truly unbearable, the youngest irregular's eyes were distant, hollow, mortified; he stared at the detective. Holmes had never seen anyone look so helpless.
Exactly five minutes later Moriarty said, "You may now commence with level thirty-five."
Lestrade stared at the criminal she didn't want to hurt Holmes, but he could take this, what was she going to do when the dial reached one hundred?
"Now Lestrade." She turned the dial and pushed the button. Holmes' grimace increased in intensity but other then that the change didn't seem to affect him too badly.
"I must compliment you on your skill, Inspector, you seem rather… talented." Lestrade glared. After another five minutes exactly Moriarty gave another order "if you wouldn't mind increasing the voltage to fifty now inspector." Lestrade did so she was trying desperately to detach herself from the situation.
'This is what Holmes wants' she thought, 'to save Watson's life and the Irregulars from going through what we are, this is what he wants this is what he wants' Lestrade was repeating this chant to herself as she again turned the dial
This time the detective could not prevent a cry from escaping him. "Arrrgh," but he pulled himself together in an instant, finding the idea of the Irregulars hearing him scream even more unpleasant then the idea of satisfying Moriarty's twisted desires.
Although he would not be able to hold out for long under the circumstances, He could feel the strain on his body; soon he would either cough up blood or choke on it.
"Now Lestrade, level sixty five if you please."
Lestrade hesitated for a moment not sure if Holmes could take it. Moriarty was about to say something but Holmes cut him off, sound suddenly erupting from him.
"Lestrade...!" he was trying desperately to keep from screaming "it's…not worth, I'm not…Watson's life…the Irregulars…please!" his voice was laced with pain, the words disconnected, but an evenness and determination flowed from them all the same, a line floated to the top of Lestrade's memory 'To the last gasp he would always be the master.'(1)
Lestrade could do nothing but nod as she brought it up to sixty-five.
"Aaahhhhrrrrggg—" Holmes kept trying to remain silent but the strain was too much and a cry would occasionally escape his lips. "Aaaaahhh!"
Lestrade's finger started to hover over the button that would end it. She looked at Moriarty who was watching her, a sadistic glint in his eyes. 'This ishappening because of what I said to him last night! He's using Holmes, Watson and the Irregulars to get to me, this is all my fault if I had held my temper the Irregulars would not be forced to watch this!'
She looked over at Tennyson, 'he's been through a lot he's twelve he shouldn't have to watch his mentor and friend go through this.' Indeed it looked like the youngest Irregular was close to tears. Wiggins was looking livid and Deidre was looking away, eyes shut trying to block out Holmes' cries. 'None of them should have to go through this!'
She turned her attention back to Holmes just as he was beginning to cough up blood. She felt as if she was betraying him being the one to put him through this.
"Holmes!" She cried then turning her attention to Moriarty, "Please stop this." She begged.
"You have my permission to end this little incident as soon as you see fit, all it would cost you is the good doctor's life and the health in various forms, of your young friends."
"Please!"
Moriarty smirked, he loved it when she begged. "Very well, you may cease to act for the time being."
Lestrade had pressed he button by the time Moriarty was halfway through the word 'very' She ran to Holmes and put her arms on his shoulders. "Holmes are you alright?" she looked him over, he seemed to be alright all things considered, he was standing on his own, and though pale had more colour then he had at their last encounter, his shirt was un-tucked from all the convulsions that had been a result of the torture.
He looked very different then the distant calculating machine she was used to, but in some ways he was still the same. Despite the sweat, blood, gasping, and haunted eyes he still possessed a stately air and commanding presence, not only was there the usual glimmer in his eye but a hint of playfulness as if he knew they would come out on top. He turned to her and smiled.
"Despite the… somewhat… unpleasant nature of the favour… I must thank you," he looked into her eyes, searching for some way to ease the guilt he knew she was drowning in. He assured her, "You are not to blame for any of this." .
"Yes I am, I ticked him off last night."
"He would have involved me in a… session at this time… whether or not you had provoked him… and I assure you… he would not…" Holmes closed his eyes and grimaced as if trying to forget the pain he was in and focused on the task at hand. "Not have discontinued at sixty five." Holmes was barley whispering his assurances through short gasps. She hugged him and said in his ear, her voice barely a whisper.
"Do you have lock picks? Anything to get out of your shackles?"
"Lestrade, I assure you, you needn't worry." He said looking at her, his eyes told her all she needed to know.
She hugged him again "Be ready to go at a moments notice. We'll try to time it during one of your healthy periods."
He looked at her, fire blazing in his eyes "Lestrade, calm yourself…I assure you that I am more then…capable of surviving our present situation… I have endured far worse" Lestrade smiled slightly, there was something positively impish about the look in his eyes.
Wiggins decided to seize the opportunity to lighten the mood. "Hey Inspector" he shouted from his forced seat, Lestrade turned. "What exactly did you say to Moriarty?"
"That Holmes was the greater man and would bring him down." She said blushing slightly, The Irregulars smiled despite themselves, Deidre actually chuckled and a ghost of a smile crossed Tennyson's eyes. Even Holmes was blushing slightly.
Moriarty on the other hand was frowning. This was not the way he wanted things to go. He made a note that Wiggins always seemed to cheer everyone up. He would have to break him as well.
"Well, now that we have all had a moment to engage in such delightful conversation, I believe it is time to return our attention to the situation at hand, Lestrade, if you would be so kind." he gestured to his left, "as to adjust the remote for level eighty five."
Lestrade gasped, but Holmes was one step ahead of her, "Do as he says Lestrade."
"He's bleeding internally! He can't take it!" she protested.
"Do as I say," replied Moriarty, his tone had a hard edge to it.
"Lestrade, for God's sake do as he says."
Lestrade looked at Holmes the impish smile was gone from his face and mouth, he was looking desperate, "But—"
"I do not value my life about that of either Watson or the Irregulars, nor should you."
It was a fact that Lestrade was keenly aware of, but that didn't make what she had to do any easier. Comforted by the fact that Holmes was no longer gasping for breath and speaking easily she bowed her head as she walked over to Moriarty's side and turned the dial.
Holmes tried to remain silent but it was too much. He couldn't take it in silence. "Aaaahhh." Everything was gone, there was nothing, nothing worth anything, he no longer wanted to live, death was the only salvation, death, only death.
Lestrade and the Irregulars looked on in horror, transfixed by the horrendous site before them. Everything they knew and loved about their friend and mentor was being torn apart before their very eyes, his face was contorted, his eyes burned with the pain, he didn't even seem to realize that he was screaming, had they not seen him before they would not have believed him to be the same man that they had known.
His British reserve was gone completely, his face consumed with agony both emotional and physical, he no longer seemed to be in control of his body. It was twitching and shivering uncontrollably, sweat pored down his face, mixing with the blood that covered his clothes, it was as if he had reverted to his most basic instincts for survival that combined with the obvious fact that his brain was wishing to die only contributed to the unfathomable nature of the situation.
Every few minutes he would cough more blood onto the floor, staining his clothing an even deeper red. The man in front of them no longer seemed to be Sherlock Holmes, he couldn't be, he just couldn't, this man was nothing like the detective, the reserved witty detective… it just couldn't be… no one in that room with exception of Moriarty and his crony's had ever seen anything so disturbing in their entire lives.
Deidre and Tennyson were both thinking the same thing, they couldn't believe it, the situation seemed to surreal, Holmes was always in control, he always had a plan he could find his way out of every situation but now he was helpless, being tortured by one of his closest friends, the one responsible for bringing him back.
Wiggins watched in horror 'is this what's he's been going through since he got here? Could I take that kind of punishment? If this can do that to Sherlock Holmes then it must be…beyond unbearable.'
Lestrade felt like she was committing the ultimate act of betrayal she had it within her power to end this but the thought of losing Watson, not to mention the image of Wiggins and Tennyson going through this, stayed her hand over the button she so desperately wanted to press.
She looked at Moriarty pleading with her eyes, since she could not be heard over Holmes's screams. Moriarty saw and smiled he took the remote and turned the dial to one-hundred, he then gave the remote back to Lestrade and gestured to her to use it. Lestrade, horrified shook her head.
Moriarty smirked and pointed to Wiggins then to Holmes his meaning was clear.
Lestrade started to shake her head then stopped. All at once the screaming had stopped, Lestrade turned to Holmes pure terror written across her features. His eyes were glazed over and he was merely twitching as blood dripped steadily from his mouth he was no longer standing on his own, his knees hovered about the floor, the shackles his only support. Lestrade could see blood trickling from his wrists where the cuffs had burned through the skin and nicked a vein, the constant pressure the only thing keeping him from death. She dropped the remote and started for him when Moriarty grabbed her shoulder.
"I have not yet given you word, you know the consequences, so unless you wish to face them then do not attempt to aid your companion."
"He could be dead!"
"I should not yell were I you Lestrade, we have already heard enough of that from Holmes, the shackles which are at present supporting him, monitor his vital signs constantly, should he suffer cardiac arrest, respiratory failure or anything of a similar nature they will shut down automatically. The sooner you begin his torment the sooner it will end, you are not helping him in any way by delaying the inevitable, now I suggest you retrieve that remote before some poor fool has the misfortune to step on it." His tone made diamonds seem soft.
Lestrade bent down and did so, tears streaming form her eyes comforted by the fact that Moriarty wanted Holmes to die in old age, she then with a trembling finger pressed the button. Holmes's body convulsed violently for a moment then, it simply continued to twitch as his precious life's blood continued to flow from his body.
The Irregulars could only stare, wishing desperately that he would start screaming again, anything was better then this.
Finally after what seemed an eternity Moriarty motioned for Lestrade to stop. She immediately loosened the shackles and Holmes collapsed onto the floor, she then dropped the remote and ran to him. Gently she cradled him in her arms. Sobbing uncontrollably, she checked his breathing, it was shallow and irregular but it was there. Relief flooded her, now if only she could get the fire back in his eyes.
"Holmes! Sherlock Holmes! Look at me!" But he wouldn't, his eyes began to close and Lestrade realised he wasn't breathing, quickly she set him down and gave him two breaths before checking his pulse, it was still there, if only just barely. She gave him another breath and he began to cough, she felt his blood rush into her mouth. Quickly she spat it out and checked his breathing again. It was almost non existent, but it was there and that was the important thing.
"Holmes! Sherlock!" Lestrade shouted.
"Beth…" her name was a breathless moan.
"I'm here, I'm so, so sorry." The blood was now flowing faster from his wrists and he was beginning to lose consciousness again.
Moriarty gestured to two guards; they grabbed Lestrade and unceremoniously dragged her from Holmes's side as a medical team entered.
"No!" screamed Lestrade then she saw the medical team and decided to remain silent. The medics placed Holmes on a stretcher and removed him from the room.
Moriarty then addressed his audience. "The scene which you have just had the great pleasure of witnessing was an example of a typical session between myself and Holmes," he smiled sadistically, "With the beautiful Lestrade serving as my understudy, again, my compliments inspector."
If looks could kill Moriarty would have been castrated, burned, and chopped to little pieces by now. He noted Lestrade's glare and continued.
"Should any of you decide to test my patience again I will not be so forgiving as to confine my attentions to Holmes, and the Inspector, Wiggins will take Holmes's place and Tennyson Lestrade's failure on their part to fulfill my request will result in Miss Deidre keeping a few of my men company, do I make myself clear?" When nobody said anything he turned to the remaining guards. "You two will now escort the inspector back to her quarters; the rest of you will do the same for our young guests."
Nobody put up a fight.
Footnote:
(1) Quoted from The Dying Detective, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
The next update will be on November 11 before noon CST
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