Benedict story

Forgotten Memories, Chapter 33

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 for your latest reviews and PMs since the last post. Guest #1(John and Moriarty are cool), Nietzsches (Twice a week therapy- needed), hjohn302 (More twist ahead), Socalrose (Poor Thomas),Guest #2 (Your welcome), Prothoe ( Benedict story continues), briongloid fiodoir (Poor Thomas again), Burning Phoenix (Looking for the dark matter on the SF channel), Guest #3( Welcome back, Ben verses Sherlock continues), gemstone1234 (Please don't combust :), BritLitChick (Die twice indeed, thanks for reviewing every chapter), Jenna Yemowa ( Mango strawberry tea), and Warm Glow, (Thanks for your kind words). Added Miriza (Thanks for your detailed thoughts. It was fun to read.) Thanks. Love and cookies to all.

Thank you ; madscientistsuz , hanging in there , eohippus, hjohn302, ShiverandShamy, Lunita28, Voldemort101, bruderlein, Puky2012, leyapearl , hjohn302, Kitiara88, Pencilx , MapleleafCameo , Prothoe, Warm-Glow, Jenna Yemowa, Guest #1, BritLitChick, Guest #2, Lanna-Nailo, Taylor501, Voldemort101, drpaz, Socalrose, dbz27, Prothoe, Esstell, Lunita28, Guest, Danishprince, ShiverandShamy , briongloid fiodoir, Isaldaria, hanging in there, Warm-Glow, Tammy, Taylor501, bruderlein, April29Roses, ShiverandShamy, christistina, waterbaby, 84, and Peacefreakx3 for your review and PMs. Thank you to all Guests.

Cyber tea with or without cream.

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. *

"Our greatest glory is not in never falling but in rising every time we fall."~ Confucius

Current Time

Current Day

It was fourteen hours ago that Benedict shot the man.

As he sat in his plush red striped wing chair, Moriarty looked out the window of his mansion across his acres of land. The trees were only a blacken outline against the night sky. The full moon along with the stars were out and scattered across the sky as they lit the night like a thousand fireflies, giving some light. Bach played softly in the background. It was an enjoyable day after all.

Benedict's transition was coming along better than he thought. Jim was considering the fact that he might never want to give him up. Benedict murdering the man earlier that day had brought a warm tingle inside.

And they say Christmas only comes once a year.

Moriarty heard the footsteps approaching. The steps were almost unnoticeable. The killer had learned long ago to walk silently. Jim had learned long ago to listen closely.

Jim looked at the polished mahogany wood floor as the glow from the flames of the fireplace first painted then erased orange and red images on it.

The killer walked up to him and stood just behind him. Jim looked at the dark liquid as he swirled it in the crystal wine glass. He did not acknowledge him right away, instead he took a moment to sip slowly on his private stock of red wine. He first smelled the aroma, then took a small sip and swirled it in his mouth before finally swallowing it. He smiled. Only the best.

After another minute, he sighed heavily. "This had better be important," Moriarty said without turning around or raising his voice.

Sebastian hoped that he was about to say something that would change the fate of Sherlock Holmes. Something that would end Moriarty's fascination with him.

"Benedict went behind your back and made his way in to see one of the prisoners without your permission Sir. I regret to inform you that he seems to be out of control." Sebastian managed not to smile. He even managed to look reluctant.

Moriarty calmly put down his wine glass and stood, buttoning his suit, as he looked the killer in the eyes. Moriarty's face was unreadable as he said, "Show me."

Four and a Half Hours Earlier.

Benedict made his way to the lower levels undetected. He was supposed to be in his room at that hour. As promised, his normal guard had vanished from outside his room and the pathway that he took was relatively free of anyone. The real test would be when he came to the door to the lower level.

Benedict's right hand grabbed the knob and squeezing gently turned. He slowly pushed the door in as he walked on the tips of his toes to quiet his steps. Reaching the lower level it was a small space with an empty chair. A chair that he was told a guard would normally occupy. He came to a series of doors all locked. There were five on the right and five on the left. He mentally counted until he came to the last door on the left. He turned the knob and it was unlocked.

Benedict noticed that all Sebastian said would be done, was done with one exception. She was not bound or gagged. He decided that that was better.

Irene lay on the cot, she slowly turned surprised as she heard the door open. She blinked unbelieving as she looked at the man in front of her.

Despite not eating or drinking anything for over twenty hours, and being a little weak, she quickly got up. She was suddenly in a good spirit, as she walked up to him and put her arms around him smiling.

"How did you…" Irene's words were stopped mid-speech. She looked in his eyes and did not see Sherlock. The eyes made her take her hands off of him. The eyes made her take a step back. She would not run, there was nowhere to go. Benedict advanced on her until he was towering over the smaller woman and his face was a breath away from hers. With one long arm, he closed the heavy door without taking his eyes off of her.

The room was made so that no screams could be heard.

One and a Half Hours Earlier

Sebastian walked up to the door of the small room and turned the knob. He had watched Holmes leave. He opened the door. He looked down at the woman as he thought to himself, "Interesting."

He would have to time it perfectly. The guard would be back soon. It was almost time to inform Moriarty about his little obsession's playtime activities.

Sweet are the uses of adversity,

Which like the toad, ugly and venomous,

Wears yet a precious jewel in his head.

~William Shakespeare

Mycroft had just received the report on the rescue operation. He heard about the incident with Thomas. Holmes just gave the final approval to go ahead with the operation, there was no turning back now, whatever the consequences.

Anthea was beside him making calls and arranging air flights on several airfields with medical services. They were prepared should something unplanned happen.

He was on his way to the designated safe-house, but would be late. Hopefully, they would have Sherlock and company before he got there. He also wanted to have a private talk with Moriarty.

Very private.

He concentrated on the reports, the data, the hard facts. That is what Mycroft had trained his mind to do. Mycroft ignored the fact that his mind kept wandering to his little brother. He also ignored the slight shake in his hands.

It was lunch time at 221A Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson just finished having tea with their midday meal. Greg had stopped by. The Detective Inspector said that he was nearby and just stopped in to say hello. Mrs. Hudson pretended to believe him.

She needed some milk. She picked up her cell and called John, Sherlock would not know where to find the milk. She frowned and put it down when she realized that he would not be answering. Neither one of them would.

She frowned as she sat down. She bit her lips, as she sighed and shook her head in self-mock for her mistake.

"Well," she thought aloud, "More tea would be nice. Another prayer wouldn't hurt either."

For the second time that day, she closed her eyes.

They came from many places. Some came in from other countries , some came from Spain entering Morocco's Tangier as planned. Tangier would be the gateway from Morocco to Spain.

Agents crossed the borders in small groups with the goal of being discreet, so that they were available should the worst occur. They would be close enough to Spain's border to slip out the country of Morocco as quickly as they had slipped in.

Several safe-houses on the border of Spain and friendly countries were filled with people on standby with others planning on arriving soon. The activity was not as unnoticed as originally intended. Everything had been moved up by forty-three hours because of the data received by the transmitter on John Watson's body and the event with Agent Thomas.

Open and closed Jeeps, Land Rovers, and various all-terrain vehicles drove through the night. They did not wait for the full force of the other operatives and soldiers to arrive, but they would travel ahead to the designated site by the cover of night. As they rode through the darkness, electronic data and updates, instructions and directions, were forwarded as electronic transmissions.

The vehicle contained four men. Two were asleep, the driver and the man in the front were awake. The cool night air blew into the open Jeep as he looked at the stars. With the full moon, there would be plenty of light for movement. They would have to hide their vehicles a distance off the road and move through the forest to avoid detection.

There had been a change. He was now to report to a Captain Magoro. The soldier who sat in the front seat look curiously as four pictures came on screen. He studied them and their information under the picture. One was of a short hair blonde man, the other of a slender brown haired agent. The third an attractive brown haired woman. The last was a pale-skinned man with dark and curly hair.

The soldier studied the pictures curiously, as the truck disappeared on the partially hidden road on a moonlit night.

Moriarty opened the door to the room that Irene Adler was being kept in. He walked over to her. Her back was turned to him and she was lying on a cot in the corner. Jim sat on the corner of the bed as she blinked then opened her eyes.

Sebastian did not enter but stood at the door to the room, watching. "Water, a damp towel." Moriarty instructed Sebastian. Sebastian frowned confused but retreated and came back with bottle water and the towel. Moriarty wordlessly removed his suit jacket, laid it on the bed, and rolled up his sleeves, as he wiped her face and cleaned her up.

Moriarty had memories of his childhood. Whenever his father was finished with him. He would always clean Jim up and change him into fresh clothes. He would even speak to him gently. His father might have even been kind to him, as kind as he ever got, for a day, maybe two. That is before Jim's father began a personal hell of his own making for the young child again. It always began again.

Moriarty held Irene's head up as she shakily held the bottle to her lips. He ordered fresh clothes for her. Moriarty noticed the bruises and fingerprints including one particularly nasty cut on her abdomen. Jim cleaned and dressed it. He had a lot of practice as a child dressing his own wounds. Moriarty gently changed her as she passively allowed it and looked on warily.

Irene watched confused as her eyes traveled to Jim, then the wall, then Sebastian. Her eyes did not stay on Sebastian long.

"I was once fond of you, you had such promise. Sherlock ruined you and now look what he did, he abandoned you."

Adler knew Jim's moods, she knew that he wanted a conversation with her. So be it.

"Benedict is just starting to embrace his evil, I remember when I first did. It will only get easier from now on. It did for me." He brushed her hair as he looked at her. He rarely saw her without makeup on. She looked almost innocent.

"Better now? " Moriarty said quietly. Adler looked away as an embarrassing tear fell. She grimaced as she moved to wipe it away. This gentle and tender Jim was more cruel because he reminded her of what she had just endured. She knew him well enough to know that that was his intention.

"You said, 'He wouldn't do it, not even with all the manipulation in the world.' You spoke those words to me, do you remember?"

"Yes," She replied weakly as she looked him in the eyes.

"Who did this to you?" Moriarty asked. The slightly mocking tone returned.

Irene frowned as she looked at both men in the room but said nothing.

"What was done to you?" Again, she said nothing.

"Still loyal, are we?" Jim wondered aloud.

"Yes," Irene said out loud and without hesitation.

Moriarty looked at the woman he once considered the most intelligent and cunning in the world. He shook his head in disappointment as he looked in her eyes. "Sherlock has weakened you, I'm glad he's dead. Benedict is more fun, don't you think?" Jim spoke more to himself than to anyone in the room.

"What inspires such loyalty out of people for Holmes?" Jim asked himself. There was no answer. None was expected.

Jim rolled his shirt sleeves back down, picked up his jacket and put it on, then buttoned it slowly. He then leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Next time I doubt he will be so… gentle."

He looked at her, "Give her food, every condemned man should have a last meal."

He leaned down and gently kissed her on the bruised part of her split lip. "Such a waste," he whispered for her ears only, "Remember your loyalty when he squeezes that lovely neck of yours, while you gasp your last breath."

He walked out of the room then, not looking back. Irene watched him go. Sebastian lingered behind. He looked at her as she returned his stare. She refused to lower her eyes. The last thing she saw was Sebastian's smile as he closed the door.

Agents and soldiers crouched on the forest floor. The sun would rise in a little over two hours. With the increasing light, danger grew. Captain Magoro spoke with his electronic communication device close to his lips. He put a voice collar on his neck. Next, he put his ear piece in and tested it, then he pocketed the larger device.

"Almost everyone is in place. What do you want us to do now?" The captain asked pushing the button on his neck collar. He released the button and listen as a voice spoke in his earpiece.

"Wait for the call. If it doesn't come in eighty-five minutes exactly give the call to enter." The voice on the other end of the line said in a rushed tone.

Understood," Captain Magoro, said as he ended the communication. The captain ran while crouching as he came to a group of four men. They huddled as he gave instructions.

"Time to plant our little packages, two on each corner of the mansion," The captain said as he looked through the blueprint of the building.

One of the soldiers smiled. "Yes Sir."

Current Day and Time

"Sir," Sebastian said as he walked with Moriarty. "I hesitate to mention it, but Benedict seems to be out of control. I can take him, and with your permission, investigate further, get the truth out of him."

"Get a sense of humor Seb. It's amusing to see the normally repressed man so, shockingly, shall we say, passionate," Moriarty thought for a moment as his eyes met the ceiling, "…maybe, reluctantly violent is a better word. Anyway, let the man have some fun. I want him slightly out of control, it's much more interesting that way." Moriarty stopped walking.

"No one touches him," Moriarty laugh quietly, "Except me of course, I'm quite looking forward to the touching."

All mirth instantly left Moriarty's eyes, as he looked Sebastian up and down. "Not touching him means you Sebastian, I hope we understand each other." His smile was like a snake. "Let's see if he's awake shall we, I think I need a private talk."

"Of course Mr. Moriarty," Sebastian said. He thought privately to himself... This definitely was not going according to his plans.