Sherlock Story
Forgotten Memories, Chapter 169
*Thanks so much for reading. Please do not forget to comment.
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.
Note: Nádherná means Gorgeous.
"… I can't count the times I have lagged seemingly hopelessly far behind, and nobody except myself thinks I can win. But I have pulled myself in from desperate [situations]. When you are behind there are two strategies – counter-attack or all men to the defenses… " chess strategy - Magnus Carlsen
Final Moves… Part I… "Attack or Defend… It Begins."
Edited: For those of you who have asked, The following is where you can find some of the references. Any question, ask.
These are found in Deleted Memories (Click on the name Zacha to find)
Sherlock's Kidnapping
123
124
126,
John's Kidnapping
135. Chapter 131
WARNING: Mature themes, M rated
"We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile…
We wear the mask."
~Paul Laurence Dunbar
Several Hours Earlier
Current Day
The doorbell had rung. Mrs. Hudson had opened the door just before she made her way back up the stairs.
Laughter and conversation floated around the room. They were sitting and having a bite to eat, as they had done many times before. John and Lestrade talked and laughed easily. They were taking a break from the case. Mrs. Hudson's footsteps were heard on the stairs as she made her way back to the small group.
John rose, while still laughing and took the plate of biscuits from her. He immediately took one off the tray and bit into it before depositing it on the table. Mrs. Hudson hit his arm playfully.
"Really John," Mrs. Hudson complained, "People would think that I starve you two, not that I'm your cook, mine." John said nothing. He only grabbed another one. Mrs. Hudson chuckled now.
Lestrade's suddenly stopped talking. His eyebrows rose in interest, as his tongue came out and licked his lips. He happily picked one up and bit into it.
"Are you sure you don't want one," John asked while munching.
Sherlock said nothing, but mimicked a smile and shook no with his head. John looked at him a few seconds longer before looking away.
Sherlock sat slightly away from everyone just observing. He would not say it aloud, but having them around was calming. He generally could not abide such normal things for long, but today it was comforting. He looked away and looked at his hands. They were at rest on top of his crossed legs. His mind traveled to his brother. He had only seen Mycroft for short periods of time over the last five days. He had gotten used to seeing him in the evenings after he had left the office, when he was in town. He dismissed the thought as ridiculous. Since when does he look forward to his brother's visits? He quickly dismissed the reflection. He thought about the morning.
Lestrade had brought some case files over for Sherlock to look at. John had asked him to. He insisted that Sherlock was going to spend the day resting. The fact that Sherlock did not start world war three over John's suggestions, had convinced John that he had done the correct thing.
Sherlock's mobile vibrated in the inner jacket pocket of his suit. He took it out and walked away from the group toward the window. The phone number was unlisted.
"Holmes," Sherlock said simply.
Mrs. Hudson's voice came from behind Sherlock. "Oh dears, a package came for you John, along with it was a letter."
Sherlock's body stiffened as he listened to the voice on the other end.
Sherlock glanced out the window. His attention was drawn to a man who moved out of the crowd and stood to the side, standing still. He observed the man in a pair of blue jeans and a cloth jacket with a hood, which was pulled over his long, red hair. The man with the red hair pulled off his sunglasses. Their eyes locked. He knew those dark eyes. He saw the evil at play in them. In a moment, Holmes knew. Even though the only words spoken into the mobile by the red haired man was, "It's time."
Sherlock heard John's voice at that moment. "It says that there will be a special evening news article in The Star tomorrow, followed by a special on the telly tomorrow evening."
He heard Lestrade's slightly heavier steps as he moved next to John. Lestrade's voice was heard next. "It says that it will be on the evening news. It will be a story about Holmes sacrifices to save London two years ago. They say that there are new facts, which have come to light, which shows Holmes to be even more of a hero than what was first reported. It will be on the news later tomorrow, John, they say that you have half an hour to view and call with comments on Sherlock's behalf, if any." He heard Mrs. Hudson remarking, and John and Lestrade were commenting. There was the sound of movement. He could not be sure. They might have said something to him, but his attention was on the red haired man.
"Your brother was kind enough to reveal my secrets, I'm just returning the favor love."
Everyone was focused on the strange letter and package. They did not notice that Sherlock's mouth opened wordlessly as he continued to listen to both conversations. They were also unaware of Sherlock's sudden ragged breath.
The click of a DVD player was heard.
Sherlock watched with one hand pressed against the window pane, as the red haired man gave a smile and a small wave.
"Did they say who sent it Mrs. H.?" Lestrade asked.
Mrs. Hudson thought. "Oh, yes, I think the name was a Ms. Riley."
Suddenly John's movement stopped.
"What's wrong John?" Lestrade asked, "John?"
Sherlock saw Moriarty throw a kiss before he started to move again, and disappeared into the crowd. Sherlock did not register the thud of his mobile, as it hit the wooden floor. He rushed forward. He made it as far as his chair, but it was too late. It had already started. He held on tightly to the arm of the chair, frozen.
Everyone in the room was frozen.
"Very good Jim," He smirked a whisper, before it turned into a pained expression. "I'll burn your heart out." Sherlock whispered to himself. "It begins." He willed himself to move, to jump up, or shout to John, to do something. He could not. His body remained frozen. He felt himself slipping back in time. His mind retreated, trapped. He relived the moment as he listened.
The tape started
*There was the sound of struggling.
"Why are you unbuttoning his shirt you idiot?" (A muffled voice said in a heavy Czech accent.)
* The sounds of tearing then the clinking sound of buttons flying violently to the floor were heard.
*The sounds of struggling and someone being repeatedly punched increased.
*There were curse words in a combination of English and Czech.
*The sounds of clothing being forcibly torn and removed.
*An angry cry of pain from a soldier was heard and then flesh being hit and grunts of pain in the sound of Sherlock's voice.
*Indistinguishable muffled voices in two languages were heard.
"Hold him down!" (Voice one)
"What do you think I'm trying to do?"(Voice two)
*A third voice was heard talking and laughing in both Czech and English.
*The sound of struggling and cursing on both sides were heard.
*A muffled and very angry Sherlock Holmes was heard struggling and protesting.
"Get... your filthy hands... off me."
*The sound of someone being hit and air being expelled from lungs, was heard, followed by a long string of expletives in a thick Czech accent.
(More Curses) "He hit me hard in the stomach. Feels like I'm gonna vomit." (Voice one)
"Serves you right, I tolded you to hold him." (Voice two)
"I'm trying, he won't stop moving." (Voice one)
"Do you too idiots need help?"(Voice three)
Curses were heard that was directed at the third voice.
"You'd better bring the Taser," ( The leader Veselý called loudly to the third soldier who left the room to get torture devices)
*The sound of a zipper being pulled was heard.
*The sound of struggling seemed to increase even more after that sound)
"Get off me! I said get the hell off…"
*There was a loud slapping sound. The sound of Sherlock sharply inhaling air was heard at the same time.
"I don't know if I'm going to last, he's so tight, aren't you, nádherná. Finally, got you quiet." (Voice two was interrupted)
* A soldier's scream of pain was heard.
"The bastard bit me. I can't believe he bit me…Help me hold him!"
*Sherlock let out grunts of pain.
"Our orders are to continue even when he passes out; it has to be at least two hours." (The leader Veselý was heard saying as he looked at his watch)
*The sounds of moving and violent struggling on both sides were heard for a few minutes.)
* A loud thud was heard.
*Silence except for a long moan of pain as Sherlock was finally subdued.
"I'm going to tear you apart!"
*The loud slapping sounds started again.
*Muffled cries were heard from Sherlock then a scream, which quickly became muffled.
*Gunshots were heard muffled in the background.
"Leave him! See what's going on, down there now!" (The leader Veselý's voice is heard again)
John came to himself and stopped the tape. He found that he was physically shaking.
Sherlock looked pale and whispered with a trembling voice, "Well, that was entertaining."
Silence enveloped the room. Everyone looked at each other then at John for direction. No one knew what to say. What could be said?
"Sherlock…" Mrs. Hudson was interrupted. John looked at her and shook a no with his head.
Sherlock closed his eyes and leaned back. He had no memories of walking from the window or even sitting down, funny that. He heard voices talking quietly. Someone put their hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He knew it was Lestrade. He kept his eyes closed. He heard Lestrade rock back and forth on the ball of his heels as if unsure of what to do. Finally he heard him sigh, squeeze his shoulder again, and then move away toward the door. Mrs. Hudson's softer footsteps followed Lestrade's footsteps, and soon a soft thud was heard as the door closed.
John realized that his own breathing was still coming much too quickly. He looked at Sherlock. He doubted Sherlock realized that he was shaking slightly. The sound of his friend screaming boomeranged around in his head, and hitting the walls of his consciousness, produced painful reverberations in his mind, and thoughts. The scream, he kept hearing it. His friend had a high threshold for pain. He wondered what could have produced such a sound. The answer came instantly, along with the unbidden images.
John Watson took a ragged breath in, then out, then in again. He took a few seconds to rein in the chaos in his own mind. He steeled his will, and walked over to his Sherlock. After a slight pause, he sat.