Sherlock Story
Forgotten Memories, Chapter 134
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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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"… Should a pawn get all the way across the board to reach the opponent's edge of the table, it will be promoted. The pawn may now become any piece that the moving player desires, except a king or pawn..."
… The Promotion of the Pawn… Part I…
"It is by chance that we met, by choice that we became friends."
One Week Later
Current Day
Current Time
Sherlock stood facing the window. He saw the familiar black sedan that sat just outside the flat. He saw another one slightly down the street. He heard a faint shuffling noise behind him. He exhaled a breath, but did not turn around. "You should be in bed, not up and about. You're still healing."
John walked closer and looked in the direction that Sherlock was looking. "Should we pretend that little speech, which just came out of your mouth, was not the biggest and most hypocritical statement in the history of man?"
"It might be for the best." Sherlock turned his head slightly, smiling. His smile quickly left. He turned back to the window.
John stood silently for a moment. "I'm fine Sherlock."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the familiar words.
John shrugged then sighed.
"You're worried about the next… game." There was a moment of silence before John spoke again.
"I'm worried because you're worried, and don't say that you aren't, I know you are." John looked at Sherlock now. "What are you thinking?"
Sherlock smiled darkly. "About puppets."
John frowned. "Come again?"
"Puppets John. Moriarty will use his puppets in the next game. He'll be attempting to teach me a personal lesson, since I have not shown the … proper improvement, so far. I have not shown my darker nature."
Sherlock looked at John now. "The sign of four John, This will be the third sign, only one left. He already has almost everything he needs in place to demonstrate to the world that he is Caesar. Years of his planning are finally falling into place. He wants to be worshiped." Sherlock huffed to himself. "I think he never had pets as a child."
"Do you mean that he will use other people for this game, instead of coming at you directly himself, like the other games?"
"Yes, and he'll risk everything in doing so." Sherlock smirked darkly.
"Moriarty is a master puppeteer. He is pulling the strings of his puppets. However, he seems to be tiring of staying in the shadows. Being a puppeteer, even a master one, and staying distant and untouchable, seems to not be enough anymore. He usually stays above it all, but now, he wants to be part of the game. When it comes to me, he has already risked greatly." Sherlock turned back to the window.
John's frown deepened. "If he has all this power, if all his years of planning have caused everything to finally fall into place for him so that he can be master of the universe, why would he risk it?"
"He's bored." A humorless smile lit the younger Holmes' face. "For someone with a mind like ours, being bored is the worst sort of hell."
John did not like the fact that he put himself in the same category as the insane genius. "You're nothing like him Sherlock."
"Am I not?" Sherlock did not look, but felt John shift closer. "Sometimes John, I wonder what would have happened to me, if you were not in my life. Is there something evil inside of me that I simply have never given birth too? Moriarty thought so. That is why he tried to erase all memories of Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, but particularly of Mycroft and of you John. More than anyone, he wanted to erase you."
John was silent for a few seconds. "All of us are capable of giving birth to evil, but, all of us are capable of giving birth to good, as well." John shifted. "It's not the big and grand decisions that we make most of the time Sherlock, it's the day to day choices, most of them small and private, that are important. The small choices ultimately determine who we are. In the end Sherlock, when it matters, you make the right choices."
Sherlock's face became grim. "Not always John."
"Not always, but enough." John shrugged before grimacing. "Truth be told, you make the right choices more than most."
Sherlock looked intently at John for the first time since starting their conversation. "You really believe that about me." His voice held amazement.
John gave a small smile and shrugged. "Always."
Sherlock searched his eyes for a moment before looking away again.
"I'm… Um… Glad that you're in my life John." Sherlock was hesitant and slightly embarrassed. He was skilled at faking emotions for manipulation, but when spoken truthfully, he was not used to such sentimental words. His voice held a childlike sincerity.
John and Sherlock just stared at each other for a few minutes as both processed their conversation in their own way. Sherlock turned to look out the window again. John turned his eyes toward the streets as well, but his thoughts were still on Sherlock. He had come a long way emotionally. Based on his childhood and life, John knew that was not an easy task. He was proud of the younger man's courage.
Without looking, John cleared his throat. Those few vulnerable words; contained more raw emotions than he had ever witnessed from Sherlock. They still did not look at each other.
"I'm glad that you're in my life Sherlock. Very glad indeed, mate." After a brief hesitation, he put a hand on Sherlock's shoulder and joined him as they stared out the window. He felt Sherlock's tension drain away slowly. They both stood side-by-side as witnesses, watching as humanity moved about the busy London streets.