Sherlock Story
Forgotten Memories, Chapter 71
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. Natalia (I am happy that you like Forgotten memories), Socalrose (Thank for the multiple post. Sherlock's deductions are definitely intact), cim902 (I hope that this next chapter dry your tears), Suzy (Thanks you for your kind words-big huge smile), hjohn302 (Thanks for the multiple post. The reason for the title revealed), Guest #1 (Enjoy this taste of the new chapters that you have been craving), Catie501 (Thank for the multiple post, I am proud of your will power :) , gemstone1234 (Thank for the multiple post, This is you, Lots of Love ), Voldemort101( Thanks for your support :) ), Prothoe (Thanks for the multiple post. Courteous to Mycroft for at least a month, Sherlock would die), Guest #2 (Thanks for the multiple post. Thank for your kind work, enjoy this chapter), Esstell (two years is a long time), and eohippus,( Thank for the multiple post. If you were shocked because of the two years, you were not alone), and all other guests and those who PM, thanks. Thanks, for your comments.
Thank you ; Lunita28, MapleleafCameo, hanging in there , ShiverandShamy, macgyvershe , Puky2012, Anya Deanna Winchester, Kitiara88, Esstell , Danishprince, EscapedRabbitBlueBell, bruderlein, Lunita28 , Burning Phoenix Warm-Glow , Jenna Yemowa, Kassandwich , briongloid fiodoir bruderlein , Puky2012, Flounder65, BritLitChick , Kitiara88, Jenna Yemowa, hollowgirl15, madscientistsuz , Nietzsches, Flounder65, Warm-Glow ,Lanna- Nailo and Guest, Miriza, Guest #3, Warm Glow, Guest #1, Guest #2 , hanging in there, hJohn302, briongloid fiodoir, leyapearl, hJohn302, Pencilx, BritLitChick, Lanna-Nailo, drpaz, dbz27, Lunita28, Guest, Isaldaria, Tammy, April29Roses, christistina, waterbaby, 84, and Peacefreakx3 for your reviews and PMs. Thank you to all Guests.
Notes:
1. Tetchy means irritable.
2. An hour with Jon Pertwee is a television program. (Creative license with time)
3. The Daily Star is a daily newspaper in London.
4. Rugby is a team sport in which players run with an oval ball, pass it laterally from hand to hand, and kick it.
5. Scrap is an informal way to say a fight or quarrel.
I think I have already explained everything else. PM me if I forgot anything.
T rated some future chapters may be M
*Thanks so much for reading. Please do not forget to comment. * Part III The Rook.
Note: Everyone Sherlock is currently in England.
BTW, Part 4th Parade's End, with Benedict Cumberbatch is wonderful, see it if you can. BBC2. Maybe the internet, I am not sure.
To my other family.
Peace at all cost, Zacha. :)
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I thought this might be useful.
When John first met Sherlock, he was almost robotic and somewhat cruel. Not in a purposeful way, but the way a child might do something bad because he does not understand the full impact of his actions. In this series, we see Sherlock gradually become more human with time.
Sherlock now have forgotten all the events, good and bad, that had made him more human.
At this point in the story, Sherlock has eight months of memories with John so he is not as bad as he was, but not as good as, he will become. His last memory is of a case he worked on, that occurred shortly after the bomb at the pool scene with Moriarty. Everything, including all memory of Irene Adler, him repairing his relationship with Mycroft, Moriarty ruining his name, him faking his suicide, and everything in the Deleted Memories story, including his two weeks of torture is forgotten.
In the story, he is almost like an emotional child who is just learning to walk, so to speak. His memories could return at any time in parts or all at once. I hope that that was helpful.
Enjoy
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"Remember me in the family tree My name, my days, my strife; Then I'll ride upon the wings of time And live an endless life." ~Linda Goetsch
Current Day
Current Time
Mycroft called to say that he would be arriving shortly. An hour with Jon Pertwee was on, but no one was paying attention to the telly.
John made tea as he looked at Sherlock. His fingers absently brushed off the small amounts of water that had splashed on his dark-blue jumper, and cream colored trousers when he had filled the kettle. He attempted to blinked the fatigue away. John kept throwing nervous glances at his friend. Sherlock was dressed in his black suit with matching shirt. He sat in his chair with his fingertips pressed together thinking. He had taken on an odd sort of expression when he heard that Mycroft was coming over.
Odd even for Sherlock.
John blew the cup of hot coffee in his hand as his fingers tighten reflectively around the comforting warmth. He watched distractedly as the steam produced from the hot liquid ascended, before his breath broke the swirling ribbons apart, and dissipated it into the air.
He usually had one or the other, but he would have both coffee and tea today. They had both stayed up most of the night and had only retired to bed three hours before. That is to say, John retired to bed three hours ago. He wondered if Sherlock slept at all. He sat in the same position John left him in last night. He would have said no, he had not slept, if it was not for the fact that he had on a different suit, and his hair was still damp, damped from the shower. John also noticed the faint scent of his body washed when he came close by to hand Sherlock his coffee. The coffee he has yet to take even a sip of.
John cleared his throat. "Sure you don't want any breakfast, tea and toast at least?"
There was no answer.
"Sherlock, tea and toast?" John looked concerned.
"Um," Sherlock answered without looking at John.
"Something to eat?" John tried again for the third time.
"Not hungry," came the familiar reply.
John sighed. He knew he had to pick his battles. Sherlock appeared to be feeling off balanced even before their talk. He decided not to push the point of him eating breakfast. He would just put food in front of him and push liquids. This method worked sometimes when Sherlock was distracted. He would take a bit of food and sips at intervals when John asked almost robotically without realizing what he was doing.
John finished the tea and prepared the toast with a light coating of butter. He walked over casually and put it in front of Sherlock.
"At least take a bite," John said casually. He then walked away not saying another word.
Sherlock blinked and looked at the toast with a turned up nose. He seemed to sniff it. He took a bite then a sip of tea. He then resumed his position. Fifteen minutes later, half of a toast had been eaten and one third of a cup of tea.
John looked at the plate and smiled. It was not perfect, but it was better than nothing. For a moment, a brief moment, everything seemed normal. At least, as normal as life has ever been with Sherlock.
Footsteps on the landing drew John's attention to the door. John smiled as he said hello to Mycroft. Mycroft nodded to John. They both looked at Sherlock who had not even acknowledged Mycroft's presence. Mycroft looked intently at Sherlock as he slowly went to take the chair opposite his brother. The tension was so thick in the room that it was almost touchable.
Even at their worse, Sherlock would always acknowledge his brother. He had often made him tea even though he did not make tea for anyone else. Sherlock almost seemed to be trying to ignore him entirely.
Mycroft said nothing; he only looked Sherlock up and down and waited. He did not say a word. He sat quietly with one hand fingering the umbrella that leaned on the side of his chair. His face seemed to wear his usual mask of indifference. The curious thing is that he had stopped wearing that mask in private almost a year ago.
With his head and body still, Sherlock swiftly moved his eyes only and looked at Mycroft. He just stared wordlessly at Mycroft for a moment. Mycroft frowned; Sherlock looked as if he might actually strike him. He seemed to be making up his mind. John wanted to give them privacy, but when he noticed the look in Sherlock's eyes, he hesitated to leave. John shifted from one foot to another.
Sherlock said abruptly while still looking at Mycroft. "John, do you mind. I need to have a word privately with Mycroft." No one in the room was fooled by Sherlock silky smooth voice.
John hesitated then sighed as he walked toward the stairs. He would pop out to visit Mrs. Hudson. John thought that it would be wise to stay close. John stopped at the door and turned his head frowning. "You're not going to hit him, are you?"
"That is unclear at the moment John," Sherlock said with false calm.
"It is fine John," Mycroft said never losing eye contact with Sherlock. John looked from one man to the other and frowned. He then exhaled noisily and walked out closing the door.
Sherlock looked into Mycroft's eye's searching briefly before he slowly got up from his chair, but did not move.
"Mycroft," Sherlock said coolly.
Mycroft looked at Sherlock calmly as he got up from his chair sighing. Sherlock walked up to Mycroft, invading his personal space and smiled.
A moment later, as John took a sip of tea, he heard a loud thump up the stairs. Mrs. Hudson looked at John alarmed as she attempted to rise. John's hand on her arm stopped her.
"They're just talking," John said as he attempted to smiled at Mrs. Hudson.
Mrs. Hudson frowned as she picked her teacup back up and said, "If they talk and louder, they'll put a hole in the wall."
John simply took another sip of tea.