Benedict story
Forgotten Memories, Chapter 32
A disclaimer: Benedict 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.
*Cyber blankets.
EDITED: to the guest that posted 12/13/12, Thank you for the multiple post. I am glad that you are enjoying. Your Ch 29 comment made me laugh.
T rated but some future chapters may be M.
A/N: Important. Benedict will at times be referred to as Ben or Benedict since he believes that to be his name.
*Thanks so much for reading. Please do not forget to comment. *
Current Day
"The soul that has conceived one wickedness can nurse no good thereafter." SOPHOCLES, Philoctetes
"Give me the gun," Ben ordered the guard. The guard looked briefly at his brother then walked the short distance to bring the gun to Ben.
"Leave him. He won't run, will you? There's no point is there and you don't strike me as a coward." He said to the man on the ground.
No answer came from the man on the ground. No one expected an answer. But, the guard walked away. Everyone's eyes were on Ben.
Benedict took up the gun and pointed at the man on the ground. Thomas looked at Benedict still but his eyes soften.
He was trying to tell him something. He was trying to say… what... what? Suddenly it occurred to him.
Forgive. The man was trying to say he forgave him.
Sherlock looked on as Ben's used his hands and raised them. Ben took aim at Thomas' chest.
Jim started to ask. "Do you want to go clos…"
The loud echo of a gunshot interrupted Moriarty's question and shattered the relative quiet of nature. It was heavy, intrusive, and out of place.
Agent Thomas body was slumped backward and rolled slightly down the decline of the ground from the impact of the bullet.
Moriarty guards started to walk toward the body.
"Leave him," Ben said with authority.
A glance from Moriarty confirmed the request.
He turned to Moriarty and explained, "The animals need to eat as well. Speaking on eating, unless you have someone else for me to murder, I'll be off. Tea time."
Jim smiled at him, "And, I am told that I am heartless."
"It's not heartless it's efficient, That whole circle of life thing," Benedict waved one hand dramatically as the other hand found his pocket, "…they that once ate…"
"…is now eaten." Moriarty finished the poem for him. "Have I created a monster?"
"You may find out soon. Brother." Benedict sighed and raised and eyebrow at Jim as he pat him on the shoulder. Jim smiled at the physical contact, he wasn't sure why. Jim laughed out loud. He was surprised that he felt happy. He had managed to break through.
Benedict walked away. "Coming Jim?" Benedict asked already a few steps away.
"You have no idea," Moriarty whispered quietly to himself. Out loud he said, "Yes Ben."
Sebastian frowned, things were not going according to his plan.
They retreated leaving the body lying on the forest floor.
Moriarty considered the fact that he might have been premature in expressing his displeasure to Doctor Yáng. Oh well, no need crying over spilled milk, as the saying went. He hummed happily, as he walked beside Ben.
Captain Magoro frowned as he lowered his binoculars. He was ordered to not give their presence away under any circumstanced.
Retrieve his body, discreetly. He pulled out his phone. He was far enough away. A voice answered with authority.
Captain Magoro took a deep breath and related everything he'd witnessed.
OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
~ Invictus- William Ernest Henley
John watched warily as Jim Moriarty strutted into the room. He was dancing and snapping his fingers as he listened to music on his mini music storage device. After a few minutes, he turned it off.
"Sorry. I LOVE that song." Jim took the earpieces out of his ears then look quietly and intently at John for a few seconds.
"Hello pet, Enjoyed the steak and wine, my personal favorites are those tiny little potatoes, Yum." Moriarty walked around smiling. "Bed soft enough? I would have given you a suit but you're not really the suit kind are you. The tee-shirt and Khaki trousers seem to scream you."
John made sure he was a good distance away from the Master Criminal. He looked warily at the four men that walked into the room. He tensed his body as he prepared to go down fighting.
Jim looked him up and down. You've been working out I see. Looks good pet.
John said nothing but followed him with his eyes as he stood a good distance away.
"Don't be shy now pet." Jim said as his expression suddenly became void of any mirth. A cold expression came across his face as he looked at him quietly for a few minutes.
"SPEAK!" Jim bellowed unexpectedly.
John jumped slightly at the unexpected shock of sound. John noted to himself that Moriarty had not lost the crazy. He knew it was best to cooperate. Not many people put John on edge emotionally. Moriarty did however.
"Surprised?" Moriarty asked in a suddenly calm voice.
John said casually, "I am a little surprised that I am still standing, more specifically, able to stand."
"I decided to let Sherlock do the hurting and whatever came to his mind." Moriarty replied just as casually.
Moriarty smiled, "I do mean, whatever."
John snorted before he could stop himself. "Sherlock would die twice before he hurt me."
"Yes," Jim said, as he got closer and went slightly behind him, "Sherlock would."
Jim smiled as his fingers reached to the front of John while his body was still behind Watson. Jim traced John's split lip. "Someone's been knotty, sorry about that." He said insincerely.
"What do you mean about Sherlock, what are you going on about?" John resisted the urge to look behind him although he could not stop himself from becoming tense.
"Let's not spoil the surprise," Moriarty said as he suddenly came from his back invading John's personal space and stared him in the eyes.
John frowned but stood his ground.
Moriarty stood still and stared…
And stared…
ONE MINUTE
And stared…
TWO MINUTES
"OK enough of that!" Moriarty yelled before he became animated and started to giggle. "I can't help myself I simply must tell someone. You ordinary people are all the same. Might as well say something to you."
"Sherlock," He sang his name, "...has already killed in cold blood. You'll be his next victim, pet…"
Moriarty looked thinking at the ceiling, "… or maybe it will be that; girlfriend, lover, stalker," Jim waved one hand dismissively, "Whatever she is to him."
"He wouldn't…" John began.
"The chill that just went down your spine is the proof that I'm telling the truth." Moriarty said with deadly seriousness.
John swallowed hard but said nothing.
Jim studied John for a moment. "I'm feeling in a generous mood. Trust me when I say that that's a RARE thing." Moriarty circled John now. He came to stop at his ear. John refused to flinch.
"Walk away." Jim whispered. "I'll let you go. You walk into that cluttered flat of yours, pack your bags and walk away. Marry a nice girl, practice medicine again. Have two-point-five kids AKA brats. You'll never see me again." Moriarty paused to give him time to speak. "You know who you're standing in front of, you know what I'm capable of."
The Doctor frowned and was quiet for a moment, thinking.
"Yes." John said quietly.
"Yes?" Moriarty repeated. It was a day for surprises.
"Yes, I'll take you up on your offer," John confirmed. "Um, what time?"
"What time for what?" Moriarty asked curiously.
"What time will Sherlock's bags be packed. I'll walk away as long as he's walking away with me." John did not answer in a mocking way, only as a matter of fact.
"You'll walk away with a man that is now a killer?"
"I'll get him into therapy," John glared.
"You'll walk away with a man that might no sooner kill you as drink tea." Moriarty looked interestedly at John.
"I'll make sure that the therapy is twice a week instead of once," John folded his arms defiantly.
John prepared himself for anything.
The fact that Moriarty simply raised an eyebrow and walked out the room made John feel more nervous, not less.
The door closed. John let out a breath that he did not realize that he was holding. John walked over to the chair and sat. He hoped that Mycroft and his team had heard the exchange. He had a feeling that if they did not rescue Sherlock soon, there might not be any Sherlock left to rescue.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed. Comments, I have tea, I am prepared.