Sherlock story
Forgotten Memories, Introduction Chapter 3
Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to BBC along with the talented writers and amazing Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch. No money was made. The story however is my original thought, and comes out of my overactive imagination. Other characters introduced are also mine.
** Thank you ; waterbaby84, socalrose, Burning Phoenix, Jenna Yemowa, Peacefreakx3, eohippus, Nietzsches and Voldemort101 who PM me. Cyber hugs for all!**
Author's note: This story stands alone. However, the character and relationship developments are from Deleted Memories. The first few chapters are an introduction.
**For those of you who read the end of Deleted Memories, this version has some changes and also have added and extended material. T rated but some future chapters may be M.
**A special thank you to everyone who takes the time to comment or review. It is encouraging as well as helpful.
Enjoy.
"Courage is the first of human qualities because it is the quality that guarantees
all the others."~ Winston Churchill
42 Minutes Earlier
John has been unaccounted for eleven hours. They arrived at the remote abandoned weapons factory. Several other buildings on the same site surrounded the building. For over ten minutes, they searched and fought their way up to where they were now. They did not have time to wait for backup.
The small group moved through the building with guns drawn. They had separated into groups of two but Sherlock had disappeared. He was more concern with finding John than proper protocol. Two agents were killed and five of the general's men. This was the very last of Ayyad's generals. Broken and with nothing to lose, he had sworn his revenge against Holmes. He stood in the middle of a room now waiting. A gun was in one hand and phone with entered codes in another.
He heard them approaching and smiled as he saw him enter the room with a gun in hand. Random gunshots were still heard in the background. He knew that Holmes was not alone and soldiers were engaging whomever it was close by. The soldier's smile widened as he saw him.
Sherlock slowly entered with gun drawn. The great Sherlock Holmes, he thought as he glanced at him. The general then glanced at the man handcuffed to the chair. His smile faded when he saw another man come into the room. He had seen him before. He believed he was the DI. He was suddenly outnumbered, something he had not counted on.
John locked eyes with Sherlock and nodded discreetly. Sherlock quickly turned his attention back to the general.
"Let him go, if I don't shoot you I'm sure Mr. Holmes here will be all too happy to, and he's a pretty decent shot." Lestrade looked the general in the eyes without flinching.
The general shifted the gun quickly from Holmes to John's head then said. "Private conversation. Do shut up and lower your gun." He turned his attention back to Holmes. "Mr. Holmes I know you're trying to get closer so stop or you'll have to pick up Doctor Watson's brain from the floor." Sherlock and Lestrade instantly stopped moving. Anger flashed on DI Lestrade's face, but he did not say another word. He however did not lower his gun.
"So here we are, Mr. Holmes."
"Let him go," Sherlock said simply with an unreadable face.
"If I let him go, you'll never know the truth Mr. Holmes."
"And that would be?" The Consultant Detective's eyes traveled pass the soldier as he cataloged the general layout of the room.
"That you're just like the rest of us. That when it comes to your life and the life of another you would choose your own."
The soldier paused for dramatic effect before continuing.
"The concept of dying a heroic death Mr. Holmes is romantic. The reality is terrifying. If given a choice you will choose yourself just like the rest of us." The general patted John on the head. Anger flashed in John's eyes but he said nothing.
"I actually do not plan to die today and I will not allow John to die either." Sherlock said casually.
"Mr. Holmes, it's amusing to see you try to win a hand when you're holding no cards." He smiled as he held up the phone for the Consultant Detective to see. He then pushed the send button. Lestrade's eyes became wide as he glanced at Holmes for a reaction but the consultant's eyes were unreadable, his face was blank.
Sherlock looked the soldier up and down silently as he came to a conclusion. "You have a way out of here. You pushed the button. You want me to live with the horror of my cowardly decision so you have some other quicker way out. Opposite the way we came. You clearly do not want or plan to die today." Sherlock paused looking at him dangerously now, "You must know that plans can change."
Sherlock's tone was mocking.
"Clearly your loyalty has limits. Do not think we are the same." There was a brief pause, "What now?"
Anger flashed on the general's face as he quickly and un-expectantly injected a drug in John's upper arm straight through his shirt. A surprised yelp came from John.
"Uh… Uh… Uh." The general's voice stopped both men that chose to run a few steps when they heard John cry out. The general smirked at the look on Holmes' face. The cool almost bored exterior cracked and he was casting worried glances at John while anger burned in his eyes. John tried to reassure Sherlock with his eyes but he was starting to blink a little more rapidly than normal and his tongue repeatedly came out and licked his suddenly dry lips without John realizing it.
"Well, look at the time. I'd better be off. My work here is about done," the general said mockingly. "One more thing then I'll allow you to choose, Mr. Holmes."
He took out another syringe. "Do you remember this, Mr. Holmes?" Holmes looked at the dark liquid contemplatively then paled. "Do you remember the unbearable pain it caused you when she had you in the lab? We improved it. It has two steps now. The first injection shall we say… prepares you. The second, this one causes unimaginable pain and hypersensitivity to all things unpleasant."
The general smirked satisfied when he saw a brief flash of fear when Holmes looked at the doctor. Holmes quickly covered the emotion. "It's been perfected. I can tell by your pale expression that you remember it well. You'll be able to hear the good Doctor Watson screaming as you walk away."
"Well," he looked at his watch again, "Maybe running would be better."
"One more thing and this really is the last thing." The general's smile suddenly widened as he looked at Lestrade. Sherlock saw his face. "Say goodbye."
Everything happened at once.
He heard footsteps behind him. He heard John slurring a warning at Lestrade the same time that a click was heard. Sherlock reacted by pushing Lestrade down. The sound of bullets impacting flesh was heard. He heard Lestrade's gun discharge and the popping sound returned in their direction. As Sherlock lay on his side, he saw the general's hand coming downward in a swing with the syringe.
Sherlock fired.
She walked through the elegant wooden doors into a conference room. It had twelve key people inside. Anthea walked quickly up to the group as her fingers danced across her phone gracefully. Everyone stopped talking and turned to the agent, giving her their full attention. They have spent the last eleven-hours going over CCTV footage carefully and activating the tracker in John Watson's telephone.
The approximate location was given to the DI and a small group of agents who were nearby. It, in Mycroft's mind, was the lesser of two evils. He knew that Sherlock would not wait for more men so he asked Lestrade to accompany him.
He was grateful that Sherlock had not run off by himself, as he probably would have done a half a year ago. Since then, the brothers' relationship has slowly healed. Sherlock was more willing to ask for help and Mycroft was more willing to give him space. All within reason of course. Mycroft did admit to himself that it was a very difficult thing to do, but he came to trust in Sherlock more now. Not just as his little brother, who in his mind was always in need of protecting, but as a capable young man who have saved his life and the lives of many some several months ago.
His brother was unaware that Mycroft was personally going to the location in question. What Mycroft was not aware of, was that Greg Lestrade had no intentions of not backing up Sherlock, with or without the elder Holmes approval. John had become important to him as well.
"Sir Lestrade called they've located what they believe to be the building that Doctor Watson is being kept in."
Mycroft knew the answer to the next question. "Is Sherlock waiting for backup to arrive?"
"No sir," Anthea said with a frown. Mycroft squeezed the bridge of his nose and ground his teeth together. He felt another Sherlock Holmes is being difficult headache coming on.
Sir Agent Thomas is on his way. I have dispatched ambulances as well as the local police, agents and the bomb unit. Mycroft almost smiled. She almost always anticipated his requests now. She was good. He gave a rare nod of appreciation. She gave a rare smile in return even though it was a somber one.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let's move. I think the use of haste is in order." Everyone left the room, some in hurried walks, and some in a jog, others in a slow run.
25 minutes to go
"… S-Sherlock w-wake up." John said kneeling beside him. He wiped away the blood from his hands on his jeans. He had just finished tying a ripped piece of shirt to Sherlock's leg.
Disjointed images slowly knitted together to form coherent thought. He blinked trying to clear his vision. The first sensation was pain. Sherlock felt immediate sharp and stabbing pain. It slammed into him like a train. It radiated from his left leg. Sherlock could not help to let out a moan. He pushed back another moan he felt that was trying to escape pass his tightly closed lips.
Lestrade was already helping him sit up. The action caused him to grimace. Sharp pains shot through his leg in protest, his head was not feeling much better. He must have hit it hard on the concrete floor he decided. He felt a headache coming on but said nothing.
Sherlock looked at both men. John was starting to waver on his feet. It was obvious that John was trying to fight the drug in his system but was losing.
Sherlock glanced around. The general was dead and Lestrade managed to shoot the soldier who tried to kill him.
He looked at the ground next to the general, grateful the filled syringe lay close by the man. John had not been injected. Holmes looked down and exhaled the breath he did not realize that he was holding.
"How long was I out?" Sherlock asked quickly. Lestrade already helped him into a sitting position. He now attempted to get up with Lestrade's help. Lestrade and John looked at each other.
"Just a few minutes." Lestrade said.
"Exactly," Sherlock looked him in the eyes while trying to blink back a headache.
"I don't know five minutes," the DI said. Sherlock raised an eyebrow.
Lestrade sighed, "Ten."
Sherlock closed his eyes and made a decision then opened them.
"Lestrade, John needs your help. Go on ahead. I'm right behind I promise."
"H-Hell no! Take Sherlock, I'm likely to become a babbling idiot soon anyway! Leave me. I w-will not leave S-Sherlock!" John was angry.
"Shut up, BOTH of you!" Lestrade said with irritation. Both men became quiet and looked at Lestrade, shocked by his outburst. "I'm not leaving either one of you. Now do we waste time arguing or move?"
"Move!" Both men passionately said at the same time. Everyone simultaneously looked at each other in surprise. This caused everyone to smile despite the situation.
"Sherlock, you take this shoulder. John, take the other and let's go." Both men quickly followed Greg Lestrade's instructions and they were off. Sherlock had a pained expression with every step but simply grimaced. He did not say a word.
Sherlock took out his phone to make a call without slowing his movements.
The line was instantly picked up. "I'm on my way, Sherlock."
Sherlock did not bother to ask how the elder Holmes knew that he was in trouble. "Better hurry brother dear."
He heard Mycroft breathing heavily as if he was moving.
Both brothers knew it was probably best to hang up their mobile phones. Neither did. They held it in their hands as they both moved just listening to the other breathe. Finally, Sherlock felt his strength fading, he was starting to breathe heavier, and sweat was forming on his face and neck. He knew he had to concentrate on moving.
He glanced at John. John was not looking good.
"Well Mycroft… time… to go… I'll see you… soon." Sherlock said breathing a little heavier now. His brother's voice stopped him from disconnecting.
"Sherlock," Mycroft hesitated, "Keep your word."
"Don't… understand," Sherlock said confused as they passed through the second thick metal door.
"You said you'll see me soon you sod, do keep up," Mycroft said with a rare display of humor. Sherlock knew it was for his benefit. It worked he noticed as he chuckled.
"I'll do my utmost… Mycroft." With regret, Sherlock hung up the phone as the three men moved quickly disappearing through another heavy metal door.