Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter 47
Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy
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WARNING: Some of the following chapters have descriptions of captivity and, torture and all things not nice. If you are a younger reader, or sensitive, Please skip or read chapters marked as non-graphic this is still rated T. If alternate chapters are offered, it will be marked clearly. For example alternate chapter 6 will be marked NON-GRAPHIC CHAPTER 6. These alternate chapters give the information in a more non-graphic way, but still T rated way. As always, thank for reading favorite, and comments.
**Rating temporarily T**
"Mishaps are like knives, that either serve us or cut us, as we grasp them by the blade or the handle."
James Russell Lowell, "Cambridge Thirty Years Ago,"Literary Essays
Deleted Memories of Abduction
Sherlock was doing general surveillance when captured. In the end, it was an ordinary a human thing that was his downfall, fatigue.
How dull.
With the exception of a two-hour nap, Sherlock had not slept in fifty-two hours. Sherlock was used to going without food and sleep for extended periods of time, but the last several months have been exceptionally hard physically and emotionally. He had made a very human mistake. He cursed himself now.
It was going to get bad he suspected, very bad.
The room he was in was clad in darkness and smelled slightly odd; like dirt and mold, mixed with oil and metal. The darkness was broken by a single stream of light coming from a thin but long window positioned three feet, (one meter,) about Sherlock's head when standing.
When he was first brought here, he had leapt one foot pushing on the wall for momentum, gripped the edge of the window ledge and pulled himself up. He was weaker now. If he exerted himself, he supposed he could do it again. He saw no point. He got the information, the data he needed.
He needed to save his energy for important things. Besides, the windows were barred.
His room contained another tinier adjoining room. It contained a toilet and sink. He found the water was not working. Not bad as kidnappings go, not at first.
He was in an abandoned warehouse that was surrounded by several other abandoned warehouses. He was close to where he was doing surveillance when captured. He deduced that he was close to water, the Thames.
There was no possibility of someone walking by, noticing movement, or hearing a scream, he realized.
He looked at the locked door wishing Mycroft would come bursting through it.
If he did, Sherlock had promised himself not to deliver another sarcastic remark to him ever again.
Well, at least for a month.
Sherlock now wished someone knew where he was. Most everyone thought he was dead. He most likely would be soon enough.
John would not worry yet; he knew that Sherlock would disappear for up to a week or so at a time, coming back to rest then disappear again before morning. Sherlock insisted, for John's own safety, that he not reveal Sherlock's reappearance to anyone.
Irene Adler did know what his plans were, and was even helping him with several leads since she had intimate knowledge of Moriarty's dealings. She had also provided vital information that Sherlock had manipulated for his own purposes. Therefore, it was vital that she was presumed dead. Adler was resourceful, intellectually superior, and had proved herself in the last several months both a valuable ally and trustworthy.
A power play was taking place within Moriarty's organization. With several key officers grappling for the power. A few anonymous calls to and from their supposed competition, a few random untraceable texts, and guns were flying. Bodies were turning up.
Moriarty's kingdom was not falling apart. It had torn itself apart from within. Sherlock unbeknown to them all, was the one who had pulled the strings. No one suspected his involvement, at least not until now.
He had limited his contact with Irene Adler since coming back to England for her safety. Therefore, lack of contact would not alarm her for several days. Irene would start to wonder; but it would take several more days for her to worry. And, still several more for her to be worried enough to disregard his instructions and contact Mycroft revealing both herself and him.
Sherlock had come to terms with the fact that he was very much on his own.
