Sherlock Story

Forgotten Memories, Chapter 121

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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. ****. ****

" Each board contains two knights… The knight – with its strange and unpredictable jumps – is the trickiest of the chess pieces.…"

White Knight, Black KnightUnpredictable Jumps…Part II


"Fear is the fuel; blood is the spark; kindle the rage and bring forth the dark." ~Black Rose


Current Day

Current Time

Sherlock looked out of the car window and frowned. "This is a lot of risk that you took just to drop me in front of a hospital. I could have taken a cab and met you here." Although he worked out where Moriarty was taking him, the location he chose was still a surprise.

Moriarty looked at the man he considered his intellectual equal. "Have you worked out what I plan to do yet?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes with a bored expression. "Of course."

Moriarty smiled, "Have you worked out how?"

Sherlock was silent now.

"I'm surprised at you? You're usually step-to-step with me." Moriarty raised his eyebrows. "I gave you a clue."

"Are you out of sorts today?" Moriarty's hand raised, and slowly unwrapped the scarf from Sherlock's neck. Sherlock had to stop himself from reflectively slapping the Consultant Criminal's hand away. He glanced at the men across from him. They were apprehensive. One had his gun out and pointed at Sherlock's leg. Moriarty stopped and looked at the angry marks shaped like fingerprints. He raised his eyebrows.

"Sebastian certainly gets creative ideas when it comes to you. I think you bring out the best in him."

Moriarty then unbuttoned his coat and removed it as he handed it to the man without the gun. Sherlock stiffened. Sherlock calculated the chances of overcoming the men while they was distracted folding his overcoat. His thoughts were interrupted.

"Molly Hooper…, if that isn't enough, John Watson…, if that isn't enough…" Jim did not finish his sentence. He did not need to.

"I expect that coat to be care for, and folded properly." Holmes said with all the bravado that he could muster.

Next, Moriarty unbuttoned Sherlock's jacket, yet he did not take it off. When that was done, He started to unbuttoned the sleeve cuff. He looked at the handcuff marks then pressed them non-too gently. Sherlock thinned his lips. He made a point not to gasp. He, however, could not stop the grimace on his face. Moriarty now started to unbutton Sherlock's shirt buttons while never losing eye contact.

Sherlock said as casually as possible. "I'd like you to stop now."

"Prepare to be disappointed then." Moriarty fingers unbuttoned the last button, and then pushed open Sherlock's shirt. He let out a whistle.

"My, someone was enthusiastic," Moriarty's, thick, rich accent filled the cab of the car. Moriarty's hand pressed down Sherlock's torso. He watched Holmes face closely as Sherlock made an effort not to cry out. When the Consultant Criminal's hand came to a particularly nasty looking bruise, his hand pressed and twisted into the side of Sherlock's ribs.

Sherlock bit his lips but eventually growled out in both anger and pain. His hands dug into the side of the car seat. Moriarty looked at him curiously. He seemed satisfied with Sherlock first display of physical pain. He let go as suddenly as he started.

Moriarty buttoned the younger Holmes shirt as if he was a life-sized toy. Sherlock's eyes were closed. His breathing was harsh and heavy as he tried to get his pain under control. Moriarty surfed the internet as he waited with unusual patience. Sherlock opened his eyes and looked at Moriarty. Moriarty allowed himself to smile. Most people would be groveling at his feet, crying, or begging not to be hurt, but not Holmes. He would never admit it out loud, but he liked Holmes spirit.

Moriarty locked eyes with Holmes. "This is the second sign. You have two left." Moriarty smiled as he looked at the battered man, "If you live, of course. I won't save you if you choose to walk into that door. Let's be honest with ourselves, you're not top of your game today."

"Of course… There is another option." Moriarty's smile widened. "You could stop all your…difficulties. Come away with me now of your own freewill. You'll be my equal in every way. As long as you do what I say without question, of course."

Sherlock frowned as he looked at the building. "If I do this will they be safe?"

"Of course not, don't be slow." Moriarty rolled his eyes. "What was all my hard work for? Am I not attempting to tell you, teach you, show you, who you really are. There's nothing out there for you. Their lives mean nothing."

Moriarty paused for a moment. "You must be tired of people who do not understand your needs. Having to dummy it down for everyone around you. Being bored all the time."

Moriarty looked at Sherlock. They locked eyes. "Come with me and I promise," He whispered in Sherlock's ears, "You'll never be bored again." He gazed at Sherlock, "I do mean..., never... bored."

Sherlock thought for a moment. Several years ago, Moriarty's offer would have seemed attractive. All his life, he had fought the boredom that came with a genius level IQ and a unique, deductive mind. He knew that Moriarty would keep his word. Even Moriarty's insanity could be worked out. He would never be bored again. Several things stopped him, but one more than anything else.

John.

He would rather be bored in their flat with John than running around the world, mentally stimulated without him.

Interesting.

Sherlock looked at Moriarty without saying a word. Moriarty's face took on a stone-like appearance. He knew immediately what Holmes decision was. Words were not necessary.

Sherlock reached for his scarf and coat as he prepared to exit the motorcar.

"No, I think that I like you with your bruises on display for the entire world to see. And, I'll keep your coat, for now."

Moriarty had already dismissed him. "Off you pop, your pets are waiting. My rules for this game were sent to your mobile."

Sherlock did not hesitate any longer. He grimaced as he twisted his limbs and exited the car. He strolled confidently into the building. Varied people entered and exited. They were unaware that their life stood in the balance.


Current Day

Current Time

He disconnected the borrowed mobile. He felt a chill despite the fact that he had on his beige colored thick jumper.

The room was cold. The opened window had cooled off the moderately sized space. He walked over and closed it now that they had dusted for prints. Anderson left the flat during the chaos. He claimed that he was suddenly ill. Stevenson took his place and was now in charge of the forensics. John was glad. He was on his way to ask Anderson in the most ungentlemanly way, what he had said to Sherlock.

John looked as Stevenson packed up the evidence bags. She, along with several officers, left the room. He exhaled in frustration. He doubted that they would find fingerprints for anyone but Holmes.

He walked back and forth as the Yarders, and agents came in, and out of the room. Mycroft would have his agent to review the CCTV footages, but everyone knew that if Sherlock did not want to be found, he would not be found.

John called Sherlock's mobile for the fourth time. There was no answer. His thumb slammed the end call key a little more forcefully than he meant to. He reminded himself not to abuse the phone. He sighed, feeling only slightly guilty for 'borrowing' it from one of the agents.

He looked around Sherlock's bedroom. There were no signs of a struggle. Nothing seemed out of place.

John Watson was not a violent man; however, at that moment, he wanted to hit something. He closed his eyes. He thinned his lips into a straight line as he took several deep breaths. He tried to calm himself.

You see, but you don't observe. Watson heard the voice of his friend say. John looked around again. He still found it hard to understand how Sherlock could generate so much clutter around the flat, yet, his bedroom was so neat and organized.

He looked at his bed. It was neatly made as usual. The dresser, tables, and all surfaces in his room were free of clutter with the exception of several science, and abnormal pathology books. His periodic table of elements was framed on the wall as usual.

John inhaled as his eyes fell again on the books. There was a smaller, novel sized book on top of the others.

"That's odd, that." John whispered to himself.

John frowned and walked over as casually as possible and picked up the book. It was one of his crime novels. Sherlock disliked fantasy novels. He would never have a loan of it to read. He frowned and opened it. His strong fingers pushed through the pages. He came to one page that was folded in half. He looked at the edge of the page, some numbers were written on it, along with the words, Your phone. It was written in Sherlock's handwriting.

John walked briskly from the room. He ignored the stares of the persons there. He rushed up the stairs to his bedroom. He took two stairs at a time. He forcefully pushed open the door and ignored the loud thud as the door hit the wall. John ran over to his mobile. He hesitated for a moment then text the numbers. The send button was pressed.

He held his breath as he waited.

After several seconds, a series of numbers and two letters appeared on his mobile. The screen showed the following, 51 32N 0 5W.

The screen now changed to a map with a moving white light. Watson recognized the numbered sequence patterns as Latitude and Longitude maps with coordinates.

Sherlock was leading them to him.

"You devil, I should have known," John whispered to himself. He picked up his mobile.

He tapped his feet as he waited.

The words tumbled out. "Mycroft, Sherlock left a map with coordinates. I don't know what's going on, but he didn't just runoff again. I don't know how or why, but he left against his will."

John paused again briefly. "I think another game has started."


A/N: Here is the second part. Part three up as soon as possible.

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