Sherlock story
Forgotten Memories, Chapter 12
A 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; drpaz, Warm-Glow, hjohn302, Puky2012, April29Roses, ShiverandShamy, eohippus for your latest reviews and PMs. Thank you b briongloid fiodoir, Prothoe, , danishprince, hjohn302, Puky2012, socalrose, Voldemort101, and Jenna Yemowa, christistina , Voldemort101, waterbaby, 84, Burning Phoenix, Peacefreakx3, and Nietzsches and for your review and PMs. I appreciate you! **
I answer each review, comment, and PM personally. I have not answered two people. Your Private Message (PM) will not receive messages or your access is off-site. Know that even though I cannot communicate it, you are appreciated. To the one that enable the PM, thanks. You know who you are. :)
Author's note: Thank you to the 1,100 visitors of this story so far. Thank you for your support, it is encouraging. A special thank you to everyone who takes the time to comment or review or PM. It is encouraging as well as helpful.
T rated but some future chapters may be M.
**Let us begin!**
Lots of Love, Zacha
"Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest meaning provides steel to our bones." ~ Grace Freeman
A man moved in a dark mahogany poster bed. The four high columns reached upwards toward the ceiling. His body fought to return to the waking world.
The first thing He noticed was the sound of someone moaning quietly. He did not realize that the sounds were coming from himself. His eyes flickered open as the pull of darkness and the pull of light fought a war within his body with equal vigor.
His ears caught the sound of a rhythmic ticking. He held on to that sound and allowed it to pull him forward into consciousness. Where was the sound coming from his waking mind wandered.
He finally felt alert enough to open his eyes.
The room went into a spin as the sudden assault of light and images caused a sharp flash of pain in his head. He steeled himself, took a deep breath and tried to open his eyes more slowly. This time he progressed slower, first one eye then the other. His eyes finally opened in slits. The room did not tilt or spin this time.
After a few minutes, his eyes adjusted and he was able to look around without squinting. He tried to swallow what felt like cotton in his mouth. He licked his dry lips but that only reminded him of the intense thirst that he felt.
He tried to get up but could not. His head moved but he could not bring his body to move. He frowned confused. He blinked several times as he tried to clear his mind and think. When he tried to think about anything more basic than his immediate surroundings; a flash of pain shot through his head causing him to groan.
Why was it so difficult to think, he wondered? He looked at himself and frowned. He had no shirt on. He had on pajama pants only. He tried to move his legs but could not.
One leg, his left was heavily bandaged from upper thigh to just above the knee. He could feel the pull of the stitches. There were two. The dressing was a pressure dressing. They were trying to keep him from bleeding.
His leg had minimal pain so he had been given something for the pain. The bend of one arm had a dull ache, as if a needle had been in there. His chest felt tender, as if someone had been beating on it. His body felt sore and heavy as if it weighed more than he could lift. He squinted as he felt the building headache.
He looked shakily around the room. He was in a comfortable bed. It was expensive. The room was laid with mahogany hardwood floors. There were just a few pieces of matching mahogany wooden furniture. All oversized pieces and custom made.
He closed his eyes briefly as he lay on the feather soft pillows. The slight mental exercise had drained him.
He opened his eyes slowly again as he stared straight up at the high vaulted ceilings.
He looked to his left and saw the foliage and greenery through the oversized windows that lined the room. He was somewhere remote then. He was in a mansion not a house. Wherever he was, the owner had money, lots of it judging by the décor of the room and the room itself.
A flash of pain shot through his head again. He hissed from the pain as he closed his eyes tightly. He waited for the pain to dissipate.
He slowly opened his eyes again. His eyes traveled as it took in the clutter free room and its furnishings. His eyes stopped abruptly as he came to the second of two doors. There was a man he had never noticed standing by the door. The man by the door face was unreadable. At least every time he tried to read his face the pain in his head increased.
"Wat…water." He asked weakly.
The man at the door frowned. He looked at him cautiously almost as if he thought that he would be bitten by a snake if he got too close. After what appeared to be a moment of thought, the man slowly walked over to him.
The man in the bed collapsed. His energy was spent by the small activity. He heard water being poured to his left. A hand held up his head effortlessly as the other hand held a cup to his mouth. He tried to bring his other arm to reach up to help hold the cup, but it could not. His arms would not move. He drank greedily from the crystal cup and nodded when he was satisfied.
The pull of sleep was almost too much to resist. However, a sudden terror ran through his mind. He felt as if there was an important question that he should know the answer to. If only he could remember the question. Remembering the question would at least be a start. He felt his eyes roll now as his mind struggled to stay awake against his body that counter-struggled to rest and sleep.
He would try. He wet his lips again before asking. "Wh…who are you?"
The man who gave him water looked at him curiously. There was no need to answer. The man in the bed was asleep the moment he asked the question. He lowered his head and walked back over to the door as he took his position and guarded the man who was asleep. He pushed a button of the communication device that was in his ear for three seconds to activate it.
"Yes?" the voice on the other end said.
"Tell the boss that he's awake and asking questions."
"I'll let him know."
"Am I to do anything differently?" The guard asked.
"No." was the simple answer.
He clicked the button on his earpiece once. He stood by the door staring dispassionately at the man in the bed as he slept, unaware of his situation.