Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter 90
Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy
*As always thanks for reading, a special thanks to all of you who take the time to review, comment, and favorite.
"Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional." ~M. Kathleen Casey
Present Day
Footsteps and voices were heard. The sudden feelings of rough hands grabbing and pulling on his body were felt.
A part of Sherlock was startled by the sudden touching. He decided to be honest with himself and admit this fact. He resisted the almost overwhelming urge to cry out, shout, fight, or flee. He would have done one or a combination of the previous had he not prepared his mind for the moment that he knew was coming.
The sudden body movement brought the sensation of nausea back. He hoped that whoever was carrying him was too distracted to notice that he was swallowing to keep the nausea from causing him to vomit.
He was practical dropped on the floor. Concrete, a part of his brain noted as he felt small waves of pain in the back of his head, back, ribs, and shoulders from the drop. His comfort was apparently not a concern.
He heard someone in the distance ask how long he would be unconscious. Another voice replied that it would be at least another hour with the dose that he was given.
Sherlock was grateful when his nausea died down. The vomiting would have been an undeniable sign that he was at least partially conscious. At the moment he was trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. After what appeared to several minutes, Sherlock was again roughly moved and deposited with a thump on the floor with his back just hitting a wall.
Someone was told to guard him and the voices died down.
Sherlock had hoped that there would only be three men. But, he now realized that he heard several more voices upon entering the building. His escaped would prove to be more problematic than he had first anticipated Sherlock realized grimly.
Sherlock decided to wait a few minutes to listen for movement. He would then open his eyes and survey his surroundings. If everything went well, he would then make a call that he hoped would send the troop in kicking down the door.
He had, in the past, argued with his brother about how he was perfectly capable of getting out of any unpleasant situation he got himself into. Today, however, if anyone managed to find him, he promised himself to kiss the first person who came through the doors... as long as it was not Anderson.
He listened for several minutes and heard nothing.
He took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes.