Sherlock Story
Forgotten Memories, Chapter 109
A disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to BBC along with the talented writers Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss; along with the 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.
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*****.*** T rated, but some future chapters may be M. ****. ****
Important. Multiple chapters so enjoy all at once or space out and read one a day.
"Good chess strategy suggests you make your first move with the pawn in front of either your King or Queen…"
… King or Queen Part IV…
"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
Mrs. Miranda Holmes or Professor Colville as she was known, walked to the small movable table. She applied slight pressure with her thumb pressed until she heard the distinctive click. The overhead projector light immediately vanished. The once dimly lit room was instantly illuminated as Thomas switched on the overhead lights.
She smiled as she looked at him. He walked down the stairs of the large lecture hall briskly. Thomas was barely recognizable in his khaki trousers and short sleeve polo shirt. The sides and back of his hair were still short, but he had allowed his front to grow out. He kept it swept back.
"Professor Colville," Agent Thomas said as he gathered the exam papers and patiently waited for her to finish her last minute preparation for the next morning's lecture.
"I'll be with you straight way Thomas." Mrs. Holmes said distractedly.
Thomas looked around and said in a low voice. "It is alright since we're alone, but it is best to practice using my first name."
Miranda stopped and looked at Thomas with a smile. "Of course dear; I'm so used to calling you Thomas that it's second nature to say it." Her smile left for a moment as she stared at a wall deep in thought. She thought about her sons, but her thoughts lingered on her youngest. She was not sure why.
Thomas frowned and stared at her questioningly.
She noticed his expression and smile again, "Just thinking of Sherlock. I'm sure he's fine." Thomas said nothing. He continued to stare at Miranda. She shook her head and commented. "I'm just being silly really."
Miranda took Thomas arm, linked it with her own arm, and whispered. "Well, if you're pretending to be my graduate assistant. You can mark those exams. I want them done by tomorrow."
Thomas let out a groan, but he returned the smile. "I think I miss being shot at."
Miranda chuckled. They both walked out of the lecture hall after turning off the lights.
Sherlock felt Sally stumble behind as he came to an underground passage. He twisted his body and caught her before she stumbled to the ground. "You're getting weaker. We need to hide."
"G… Give me a minute."
"Oi." Sally words were cut short when she felt herself being lifted. The world tilted instantly. The sergeant squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. She looked at Holmes face above her. His face was a little strained from the effort. She knew the familiar look on his face, the one he had when he was concentrating. The world seemed to tilt again.
"Close your eyes, it will help." Holmes voice said simply, as a fact. "Stay awake," He added soon after. She did not bother to ask how he knew; this was Holmes. She leaned on his chest as she listened to his quickened heartbeat. She fought against the pull of darkness.
Within minutes, they were both swallowed up in the dim light as he stepped into the tunnel's entrance.
Current Day
Current Time
Flashing lights reflected off the alleyway wall in a steady pulse of colored illumination. Greg Lestrade watched as the suspect was loaded into the ambulance. He made the long walk towards the end of the alleyway. He frowned when he considered the information that there was blood at the scene. The only good facts were that it was a small amount, and the two seemed to be fit enough to fight back. The not so good thing was that it did not appear to be entirely the criminal's blood. From the broken glass and a few other signs, it was clear that some kind of struggle took place.
John called twice now, he would be there soon. It was safer to allow him to assist in the search than to have him run off on his own. It was quite possible that they were after John as well.
Several Yarders walked up and down performing their duties. Lestrade reached the end and looked at the body on the ground. Paramedics were not needed on that one. The dead body was awaiting forensics to come.
Anderson was on call, but said he had fallen ill suddenly and would not be able to make the trip. Stevenson was the forensics backup and was on his way. Lestrade wondered if Anderson considered ill and drunk to be the same thing. Greg had already put one written reprimand in the forensic scientist record. He seemed to straighten up and do better after that. The DI consider the fact that he would hate to have to put another reprimand in his personnel file. He had known him for a long time. Lestrade decided to give Anderson the benefit of the doubt.
He watched as Stevenson drove up and exited the police car. Lestrade's eyes wandered down the street. Where was Sherlock and Donovan. They could not be far.
A block down the street, curious eyes watched the Detective Inspector's movements. A man picked up his mobile to call. "Kilián, they have Popović, and Dvořák is dead."
"Any sign of Holmes and the woman?" Kilián asked.
"No Sir, but we should have them soon. We know the general direction that they ran in. There is nothing down that way but abandoned buildings. They seem to be running toward a dead end.
"Keep me informed." Kilián ordered curtly.
"Yes Sir," The man disconnected the line as he discreetly moved away from the police.
A short walk into the tunnel, and there were a group of homeless that lined the walls of the tunnel. Several looked up when they saw him approaching. Sally reached shakily for her gun as she heard footsteps running behind her. Holmes hand came to stop her.
"Mr. Sherlock," an adolescent female voice was heard first, soon after, several male voices young and old, joined in a concerned greeting.
Sally felt her body being lowered to the ground. She looked and saw that two of the men caught Holmes as he started to fall and lowered him to the ground, as well. He was breathing heavily; sweat plastered his curls to his skin, and he looked more pale than usual. It had taken a few seconds of just breathing before he could speak.
"We need help." Sherlock took a breath, closed, and then opened his eyes. "Can you reach Jazz, Milty, or Buzz, anyone who has a mobile and call Doctor Watson, tell him where I am. Tell him, we are being followed, and require urgent medical attention."
A young woman and teenage boy spoke up, "We won't let ya down Mr. Sherlock." They turned to go when Sherlock voice stopped them. "Be careful," Holmes gave them both a stern look and they smiled ear-to-ear.
The boy said proudly, "Don't worry yourself none, we're smarter than a bunch of bloody wankers."
"Watch your language. You know what Mr. Sherlock told yah about yah mouth." The slightly older female scolded.
The boy said in a defiant tone, "She won't stop crying on about my bad language, but she swears more than me."
"Enough you two, off with you both." Sherlock said firmly. "Take that way." He pointed at one of the four passages that would lead them opposite of where they came from. Their smiles widened, and they ran away toward the progressively darkening tunnel.
Donovan asked quietly, "Brother and sister?"
"Yes, just not by blood." He replied as he watched them disappear down the tunnel.
A dirty hand of an elderly woman came and touched Sally's shoulder. She made an effort not to recoil in disgust. The woman motioned with her hand as the men helped both her and Holmes up. Holmes half walked half staggered the short distance to Donovan. He put his arms under her shoulder and helped her to walk along. She bit her lips to hold back the groan that wanted to break free. The elderly woman motioned again, and Sally followed, but not before looking into her eyes.
Sally had seen the eyes of the old woman. They were piercing eyes, old eyes as if they had seen a life of trouble, and had been there when the world was formed.
A turn around the tunnel and a line of makeshift beds were there. Sally also saw what she assumed to be the only possessions of the people that were helping them. A few odd motions with her hands and the men moved away some of the belonging to reveal what looked like an old sewer drain of some kind. They removed the cover, and Holmes looked at her then nodded. One man put their cleanest cover to line the hard ground. Holmes and the same man helped Donovan in first.
"Give me your gun," Holmes said. At Donovan's questioning look, he added. "If the worst happens, my hands are steadier than yours and that space is too small for me to reach it once we are both inside."
Sally nodded and passed her gun to Sherlock. She watched as two of the men helped him to shimmy his body next to hers. They were both facing each other, and Holmes hands were above his head in an awkward position. One of the men handed the gun to Holmes. The old woman smiled at Holmes who nodded. There were scraping sounds as things were moved in front of the cover to conceal the opening.
They both watched through the slits in the cover as the belongings were moved in front of them and darkness slowly swallowed them up.