The next three chapters are dedicated to jack63kids. Thank you for always thinking of others. Happy belated Birthday. December 11th.
Sherlock Story
Forgotten Memories, Chapter 112
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.
** Thank you, for your latest reviews and PMs since the last post favorites and follows.
Thank you: Danishprince (Charles by itself), sevenpercent (Robert, Charles or Christopher), mvignal (Blake), SWBloodwolf (Blake), Catie501 (Thank you for the multiple reviews, Boswell or Bradford), Bookworm Gal (Blake), Kitiara88 (Bradford), Guest (I am glad that you like the story), Benfan, (Blake or Andrew), gemstone1234 (Bradford Charles, Averett, or Conrad), HC (Bradford Charles), Hanging in there (I am glad that you are enjoying the story.), Guest (Blake), cim902 (Lincoln Jefferson, Boswell), Prothoe (Thank you for the multiple post. Blake), bruderlein(Geoffrey Jefferson),eohippus (Thank you for the multiple post, I am glad that you enjoyed Donovan), Socalrose (Dylan Thomas? Franklin or Frederick or Blake). To all Guest, thanks.
Thank you ; HC, Hanging in there, SWBloodwolf, BlueSkies23, kassandwich, Benfan, bruderlein, eohippus, gemstone1234, Dark magical Sorcres, mvignal, Bookworm Gal, Danishprince,Voldemort101, idlewild1, hJohn302, Socalrose, Prothoe, SAS , gemstone1234, eohippu , sevenpercent , Catie501, Suzy, cim902, Esstell, Natalia, Lunita28, MapleleafCameo, hanging in there, ShiverandShamy, macgyvershe, Puky2012, Anya Deanna Winchester, Kitiara88, Esstell , EscapedRabbitBlueBell, bruderlein, Lunita28 , Burning Phoenix , Jenna Yemowa, Kassandwich , 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. Thank you for over 600,reviews. I appreciate you all.
*****.*** T rated, but some future chapters may be M. ****. ****
Important. Sorry for the delay. It was a small matter of cars crashing and me being in one of the cars. Thank God, apart from some pain, no permanent injuries. Here is something. I hope it is okay, if not I blame it on the pain medication. :]
Note: Danke is used to say thank you in one of the four major languages of Switzerland.
The results for Thomas first name are the following. Thank you for your overwhelming response were:
1. Agent Lincoln Jefferson Thomas - 1
2. Agent Bradford Charles Thomas- 3 both, Charles only- 3, Bradford only- 2
3. Agent Boswell Thomas- 2
4. Agent Blake Thomas- 8 ***(The winner)***
5. Other suggestions- Robert, Christopher, Andrew, Averett, Conrad, Geoffrey Jefferson, Dylan, Franklin, or Frederick).
I will try to use most of the names in some way in the story.
*Thanks so much for reading. Please do not forget to comment.
" Each player begins the game with eight pawns, one on each square of the rank immediately in front of the other pieces. The pawns are the shortest and most numerous pieces in a chess set …"
… The Day of the Pawn I…
"Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart." ~ Unknown
Current Day
Current Time
He slowly opened his eyes. The blurred edges faded away progressively as his vision sharpened and images became clearer and more defined. He frowned as he tried to trace the unbroken lines of events from earlier that morning. The low buzzing sound in his ear dissipated. He looked to his left at the early haze of colored lights outside the window. The sun would be rising soon. He remained motionless as his mind fog cleared completely, and his thoughts became more orderly.
He winced as he turned his head away from the window, and looked straight ahead. Sherlock took a deep breath and turned to the right where he heard a sigh.
"Awake," John said as a fact. He did not look pleased. His eyebrows were creased in the way that only John Watson could do.
Sherlock noticed His friend's expression and repressed his own sigh. "You have a natural talent for stating the obvious John." As he was trying to sit up, he bit his lips against the pain in his throat, and body. He tried resolutely, not to make a sound. Of course, he was not fooling John.
"Out with it John, you look unhappy." The Consultant Detective ventured a look at the man in the chair to his right.
John looked at Holmes for a minute. "Why would I be unhappy? Could it be that you ventured out by yourself, only seven weeks after nearly dying? Maybe it is the fact that you tried to hide an injury. Or, maybe it was because you turned off your mobile at a time when Moriarty could kidnap you?" John looked away for a moment before looking back at Sherlock. "I suppose that I could forgive you seeing as you've kept yourself and Donovan alive."
"She helped keep me alive as well." Sherlock's voice sounded hoarse and strange to his own ears. He did not see the look of surprise on John's face. His friend actually acknowledged Donovan's help.
Holmes sighed; it was a long, deep, and primal sound as he stared at the ceiling. White, nondescript, boring. He swallowed painfully. He noticed his clothes now. Ripped shirt, blood stained, his trousers were not in much better condition. He closed his eyes briefly, "I'm not in the Accident and Emergency."
The corners of John's mouth curved up into a smile. "I'm glad to see that knock on your head has not affected you in any way. Your observational skills are top notch."
Sherlock looked at John with a raised eyebrow.
John looked back. "You were half conscious, yet, still managed to punch one of the medical workers out. You were not too keen on anyone touching you. I managed to convince them that perhaps when you were more… lucid… it would be a better time to examine you. I'm sure the call from Mycroft helped to convince them that it was in their best interest."
He looked at the catheter that was taped to his arm. "They managed to get Intravenous Fluids into me."
"Actually, that was me. You would not allow the emergency workers near you. I managed to calm you down. You allowed me to put the IV into you and oxygen on you. That was just before you passed out again actually."
Sherlock looked at the offending catheter in his arm and frowned before his long fingers pulled at the tape. He felt John's finger on his and looked up. John was glaring.
"Sherlock, it is too early in the morning to give me a headache." John pushed him back onto the mattress with a glare and a fake smile.
"I'm awake now; there is no reason to remain here." Sherlock raised himself up again just to have John push him down. "You get to be examined by the doctor or by me. You finish that IV and then," John exhaled in defeat. "We go home."
This got Sherlock's attention.
"As long as the exam confirms that there is no reason to keep you in the hospital," John clarified as he looked at Sherlock's hand and hit it. "And, leave that IV alone Sherlock!"
"Alright, stop hitting my hand!"
"If you stop trying to take out your IV!" John was losing patience. Both men just stared at each other for a moment silently. John entire body language changed, and his face took on a determined look. "Now that you're awake, shirt off. I'll do the examination, or I'll call one of the staff if you prefer."
Sherlock had a strange look on his face then he did something rare, he yelled at John, or attempted to shout. His voice broke. He simultaneously attempted to sit up, while he pushed his legs over the edge of the hospital bed. "Well, I'm leaving John. No one can stop me. I'll sign myself out against medical advice if I have to."
John moved closer in case his stubborn friend became dizzy. "Sherlock stop, or you'll force me to…"
Sherlock sneered. "What, call Mycroft? He's out the country. I would have thought even someone of your limited intellect, would have known that a threat has no power, if one does not have the ability to carry it out."
John folded his arms and looked calmly and quietly at Sherlock for a few minutes. "It's not going to work. I'm not going to walk out of here in a huff, and tell you to do what you want." He looked pointedly at the fingerprint shaped, deep purple marks on Sherlock's neck. "Are you going to tell me what happened or am I going to find out on my own?"
"Strangled," Sherlock glared at John while adding. "I thought you were a medical man."
Sherlock tried to look condescending, but John frowned when he noticed a quiver of his lip. His eyes also looked bright, as if there were un-ushered tears in them.
"As soon as that IV finishes, and you're up to it, we can go."
Sherlock looked at John with suspicion. "You aren't going to talk me into staying for observations."
"No."
"Force an examination."
"No. But, that only applies if I find nothing else wrong."
Sherlock paused for a few seconds. "Who are you and what did you do to my flatmate?"
"Do you want to stay?" John crossed his arms.
"No-no no," Sherlock said immediately before going into a fit of coughing. John frowned and ran to get some water.
"Drink slowly, your throats quite bruised," John warned as he handed him the water.
Sherlock drank then started to cough, droplets of water were forcefully expelled with each cough. He struggled to breath for a few minutes and inhaled harshly. When his breathing finally evened out, he noticed that not only was John there, but several hospital workers, as well.
Sherlock frowned, "Joh…"
"Stop talking completely, Sherlock." Sherlock winced when he felt John's hands on his throat pressing. Sherlock tried, unsuccessfully, to hide more grimaces. John frowned as he looked at Sherlock. Sherlock eyes widened as he noticed something. John turned away from him and spoke quietly to the nurse. The nurse looked at the two oddly then retreated. She returned within minutes and handed something to Doctor Watson. Sherlock tried to see what it was, but John seemed to keep the mystery object, just outside of his field of vision.
A nurse came up to Holmes and handed him another cup of water. This one looked as if something was added to it. The water almost looked thick. Sherlock looked at John.
"It's to make it easier to swallow. Sip slowly." He heard John's voice from behind the nurse.
Sherlock smelled the water suspiciously. It was odorless. He frowned as he took slow sips. He almost choked again, but at the last moment, he felt the thick refreshing liquid descend down his throat.
Relieved, Holmes took a few more slow sips. The cool of the liquid was welcome against his abused throat.
He blinked his eyes a few times suddenly sleepy. He noticed in the back of his mind that John handed the nurse something right before his hands gently guided the drowsy detective back on his pillow.
Sherlock blinked as he looked at John. He opened his mouth to say something but forgot what he wanted to say. It was probably not important. He looked at the empty syringe and the drop of liquid on his IV port. He knew that should tell him something, but he suddenly did not care. He felt sudden movement as if his clothing was being removed, and replace with something else. Again, he did not care. He felt something firm that smelled strongly of plastic slip over his nose, and mouth, again he did not care. All he cared about was closing his eyes.
Sherlock heard John's voice as if far away saying, "Sleep Sherlock, I'll be here when you wake."
Current Day
Current Time
Mycroft exited the aircraft and walked tiredly down the steep stairs. His grip on the handrails were a little firmer than normal. He had made a marathon of visits to countries in the last three days and had just left America for Switzerland. If the truth were to be told, he was eager to get back to England and Sherlock. He was glad that John and Lestrade were there to help watch over him. Footsteps of several agents sounded behind him as their shoe sole met the metal of the stairs. He stood still and took a moment to breathe the fresh, crisp air. The sun was about to rise, and the sky was lit with dimly colored displays of predawn light.
Anthea made her way to his side and stood silently. Several agents stood just behind them as several more talked into headsets and moved around alert as they waited for the motorcar to drive up.
A chill ran through Mycroft's exhausted body. He exhaled deeply as his warm breath met the chilled air that fogged in sympathy.
Holmes heard the sound of car tires on gravel at the same time that he heard Anthea's mobile ring. He ignored both sounds as he continued to stare at the colored area of the sky, which had managed to lighten even more, in the short time that he had been watching its progress.
The black colored BMW came to a complete stop beside them. Someone quickly exited the driver's door and walked over to the door to the back of the luxury motorcar. The driver wordlessly held the door open.
Anthea finished her call on the mobile and looked at her boss. "Sir, we have an address, Adler will be waiting."
He stood still a few minutes longer, before looking into the eyes of his ever-faithful assistant. Her eyes betrayed her exhaustion, as well. He gave her a rare genuine smile before saying. "Then I suppose, we better be off."
Not another word was spoken as the BMW disappeared, as it drove, toward the rising sun.