Sherlock Story
Forgotten Memories, Chapter 172
*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.
Thank you for your recent post: Guest #1 (Correct, thank you for participating.), gemstone1234 (Thank you for your generous words.), lizzie1250 (Did you enjoy the hobbit?), Bookworm Gal, (Fire up the bonfire. Make it hot! ;) ), Coolness10123, (Anderson/Moran/Moriarty. The trio of evil.), Benfan space (Thank you for the multiple reviews. The storm begins.), socalrose (Thank you for the multiple post. Get more tea.), kassandwich (Thank you much, ready? :)), bruderlein (Thank you for telling me about, The Fifth Estate), foxeeflame (Take a deep breath. Star Trek is coming soon.), Lillkin (Thank you for the multiple reviews. Maybe just tea this time.), eohippus (Thank you for the multiple reviews, and kind words. Are the blanket, and cookies ready?), Cumberbatch Of Derren Brownies (Hang on. Enjoy the ride.), Prothoe (Thank you for the multiple post. Thank you for your moving words.), goanago (Thank you for the multiple post. More to come, I hope you enjoy), Benfan(Thank you for the multiple reviews. Get a warm blanket.), Guest #2 (Thank you much. Prepare your computer for more emotions.), Puky2012 (Thank you for commenting multiple times. Get some chocolate love.), Bookworm45669 Thank you for participating multiple times. I have edited the previous chapters to include your name. ), Natalia (I'll close with your words. Darkness is coming.) To all guests and to those who sent PMs, thank you.
Thank you ; Bookworm45669, foxeeflame, Warelock, lizzie1250, Natalia Trevor, RawrxSushi, kamelion, Kelllie, nourss, Me And The Time Vortex, deaka, goanago, Whosawesome, Rouge Singer, Nourss, goanago, Lillkin, It's-Somebody, lizzie1250, Dawnfire11, RiverSong11, georgiporgiepuddingandpie, . , e la mucca salto sulla luna, kassandwich, T're Urvawi, lizzie1250, Kelllie, Sdale05, jack63kids, kassandwich ,macgyvershe, cim902, 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 your reviews. I appreciate you all.
Warning Moriarty*****. *** T rated ****. ****Need I Say More?
Last week's fun question was; what non-Sherlock film is Benedict Cumberbatch currently featured in? Or, what non-Sherlock film was Martin Freeman featured in?
A few these answer surprised me. Thank you everyone for participating as well as educating me on a few things to look forward to, (happy face.) The Hobbit, An Unexpected Journey, Star Trek – Into Darkness, The World's End, Osage County, Hobbit movie The Desolation of Smaug , and The Fifth Estate,
Edited. Congratulations: Guest, gemstone1234, lizzie1250, Bookworm Gal, Coolness10123, socalrose, kassandwich, bruderlein, foxeeflame, Cumberbatch Of Derren Brownies, goanago, Bookworm45669, RawrxSushi, and Benfan.
A/N: Hi everyone. After today there will be four more post, and then, an epilogue. I have decided it would be fun to title these last posts.
1 It Begins.
2. Feed the Fire. (This week's post.)
3. Burn Baby Burn.
4. Ashes.
5. Epilogue
"… 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 II…"Attack or Defend… Feed the Fire.
"The most persistent sound which reverberates through men's history is the beating of war drums." ~Arthur Koestler, Janus: A Summing Up
Current Day
Current Time
"Are you in trouble love?" The older woman asked, concerned.
She did not answer at first. She knew that she was not supposed to say anything. But, she was in trouble. She had known the older woman for two years. The older woman was as close to a friend as she had ever had.
"Yes. I can say no more." She frowned. "I shouldn't have been here today. I'm going to get a thorough scolding when someone finds out."
The older woman thought for a moment. "Well then, go out that way," she nodded with her head toward the back door, "I'll tell them you went in the opposite direction." The older woman smiled at her friend. "It works in all the movies."
She looked at the old woman with respect, and regret. If this worked she would not see her for a long time. If it did not, she was in trouble. Either way, something would be lost in the next few minutes.
She nodded to her. There were no words right now.
The older woman looked at her. "Let me know that you're okay love, when you can, that is." She raised her chin and said with fake irritation. "Off you pop." The older woman winked at her. She nodded back.
Within minutes, she made her way to the stairs, ignoring the lift. She had to make it outside, then away.
Forty Hours Earlier
Dubai
Abigail sat with her legs crossed. She easily pushed a rebellious strand of hair behind her ears. Her voice was all sweetness and sugar. "I haven't seen you for days, Blake," she whined. "Can't you tell me when you will leave?"
She had asked him the same question every day for the past four days. He had never answered, however, she felt his resistance breaking apart slowly, it felt as if it was about to shatter.
Thomas sighed long-suffering. "I'm leaving in ten days. Happy now?"
"Absolutely happy," Abigail beamed. "If you're leaving in ten days can I see you tonight?"
"Abigail we've discussed this before, as much as it pains me to say it, I will not be able to. I have last-minute details to take care of." There was a slight hesitation on Agent Blake Thomas' part, or Blake Smith as she knew him to be. "Maybe I can steal away tomorrow night, but only for three hours Abigail."
Abigail giggled enthusiastically. "Thank you Blake." Her voice lowered and became seductive, "I promise to make it worth your while, love."
Blake was quiet for a few seconds before clearing his throat. "Stay safe. I'll see you in a few days Abigail."
"I'll see you tomorrow love," Abigail said before disconnecting the phone. The smile left her face. She pressed her lips together as her eyes narrowed. She thought for a few minutes. Her long manicured fingers slid up against her lips once, then again. Her eyes glanced at her mobile. She picked it up again and pushed a number that she knew well.
Her fingers danced on the wooden table impatiently, as she waited for the mobile phone line to connect. It finally did. "Get me Mr. Moran, now."
If Blake was coming over tomorrow night. She would need the poison quickly. It was slow acting. He would think that he had the flue until it was too late.
Forty Hours Earlier
221 B Baker Street
Sherlock heard muffled voices. Lestrade and Mycroft were there. More voices. He now heard John. He was not happy about something. The target of his anger seemed to be Mycroft. He kept his eyes closed but could not help the sigh from escaping.
Voices suddenly hushed.
He may as well bite the proverbial bullet. He ventured to open his eyes.
He opened his eyes blinking slightly and then stared at the ceiling. "I don't suppose that last night was simply a dream from hell or a nightmare of some kind."
"Afraid not Lock."
Sherlock sighed again and then sat up. "Lock, is it?" Sherlock thought aloud, "… must be bad." He now looked at Mycroft whose usually expressionless face wore a frown.
"I see," Sherlock said to no one in particular.
He looked around at several faces staring at him silently. His attention was drawn to the chair. Someone removed his suit jacket. It hung wrinkled from the back of the dining room chair. His shoes were also removed during the night. He was still in his dress trousers and dress shirt.
He was usually a light sleeper and would wake at the slightest provocation. He had no idea why someone's considerate act of removing his jacket and shoes while he was asleep, left him feeling vulnerable. He shuddered before he could stop it.
He swallowed hard as he rebuked himself for what he considered pure nonsense.
"You okay Sherlock?" John frowned as he walked near him now.
"I'm fine," Sherlock, said with a forced smile. The normally appealing smell of toast and coffee, mixed with tea, invaded Sherlock nose like a stench. Sherlock swallowed and wrinkled his nose. John noticed; his frown deepened.
Sherlock looked at each face. When he came to Mycroft, his eyes rested on him.
"I was able to delay the newspaper. It will come out tomorrow afternoon not this morning." Mycroft hesitated. "Sherlock if my hands were not tied, so to speak, I could stop it all together." Mycroft pursed his lips, as he looked down at the floor with interest.
Sherlock looked at him, deducing. Mycroft allowed him to.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow and stood stretching slightly. He was not used to some many hours of sleep at one time.
"I'm not ready for anyone to disappear or be erased from history Mycroft."
Lestrade frowned and pretended not to understand the implications of Mycroft's statements, and Sherlock's reply.
"Sherlock…" Mycroft started.
"No," Sherlock said tiredly. His mind wondered briefly, should he not feel more rested after so many hours of sleep?
Sherlock stopped suddenly then looked at their faces. "What else?" He asked suddenly nauseated. In the back of his mind, he noticed Mrs. Hudson coming up the stairs.
"The media somehow got wind of this. There are just whispers now, but by this evening if not stopped, everything should come out."
"The audiotapes? Will they have the audiotapes?" Sherlock asked in what he hoped was a strong voice. He swallowed more now as the nausea built.
"We're not sure; I have someone looking into that now…"
John interrupted Mycroft. "Sherlock are you okay?" In seconds, John was by his side with a hand on his arm.
Sherlock's eyes widen. He did not think that it was a good idea to open his mouth. He felt John leave him. He looked toward the bathroom as he moved quickly in its direction. He made it as far as the doorway when his knees buckled. John caught him as the burning sensation traveled upward at alarming speed. He heard himself vomited up the little he had managed to consume. He clung tightly to the rubbish bin. He dry heaved now. Sherlock heard John as if far away, telling everyone to please give him privacy. He would have been grateful if he wasn't too distracted trying not to vomit up a lung.
Finally, it stopped.
He felt two pairs of hands lift him. He walked with wobbling legs as they deposited him on the closed loo. A hand gave him water. He rinsed and spit. After a moment's hesitation, he drank a little to get the burning sensation out of his throat. He was red with embarrassment. He stood, trying to regain some dignity as he washed the sweat from his face. He nodded a thank you to his brother and John.
They walked back to the living room. Him on legs that were still slightly wobbly. Both John and Mycroft looked at each other. Neither man commented on the fact that Sherlock held on to the wall as he walked.
"Sherlock, I can make all this go away. Just let me. Untie my hands."
"How exactly will you do that Mycroft?"
"Best not to ask any questions." Mycroft eyes were unreadable to all in the room, but, not to his brother.
"I see."
"No," Sherlock said softly.
"Sherlock Holmes you're being stubborn…"
"STOP!" Everyone in the room immediately froze and was still. "Stop it Mycroft," he said more quietly as he pulled his brother by the hand into the kitchen and closed the sliding doors.
Mycroft glared at his brother. A battle of wills took place, neither man willing to lose that battle. "I need you Mycroft," Sherlock dry wiped his face and exhaled in frustration. Mycroft's mouth was pulled into a grim line but he was quiet. Both brothers dropped their mask. Their faces were raw with emotions.
"I care," Sherlock could not finish but was quiet for a moment as he tried unsuccessfully to contain his emotions. He tried again.
"I care what you think. We argue, we fight. We near drive each other to madness. But, if one of us is in trouble, the other would die trying to help. I know that. Even at our worst, I've always known that."
Sherlock exhaled deeply again and paused briefly before taking the plunge into the deep forbidden waters of emotions.
"I care for you Mycroft." Sherlock whispered surrendering.
"Damn it! Prepare yourself Mycroft. I am about to commit the worst sin against absolute logic. But, the truth is," he took a deep breath, "I l...love you. And don't you dare force me to repeat it!" Mycroft opened his mouth to say something but was dismissed by Sherlock as he cut him off with a wave of one hand.
"I will not torture you by having you to verbally admit to the same. There's no need. I know you care for me, love me as well. You show your love with actions, not words." You always have. I don't need to hear words that I already know in my… my heart I suppose. At least John tries to convince me that I have one."
Mycroft confirmed with his eyes his love for his brother, although his lips remained silent.
"Everyone thinks I'm so bloody strong. They're right, usually I am," he smirked. "I'm not right now," he said embarrassed but determine to finish before he lost courage. "I need you beside me. Don't doubt me, I'm doubting myself enough right now."
"I won't give in to Moriarty, his monkey or his demand, to that idiot Anderson, or to Riley. I won't lose that part of myself." He spoke more quietly now. "I've lost too much already." Sherlock now looked at his brother and told him with his eyes that it was his turn to speak.
"Sherlock, the media will tear you apart. You have not exactly been diplomatic in your encounters over the last few weeks. What about your consultant business. There are irreparable ripples that will affect your life. Once this door is allowed to open, it cannot be closed. Not even by me." He walked closer to his little brother. "I can take care of Moriarty. I just need a little more time." He took one more step invading Sherlock's personal space. "As far as the rest of those idiots, just say the word. One word… One look, I'll know."
Sherlock smiled without humor. "Moriarty is a genius, he is rather difficult to find."
Mycroft raised an annoyed eyebrow. "We're both geniuses as well."
"We both have lines that we will not cross, he does not. At least, there is only one line that I have discovered with him."
"Sherlock, I could…"
"No Mycroft," Sherlock said firmly.
"You're making a mistake," Mycroft said simply, gravely.
"My life. My mistake."
The brothers looked in each others' eyes again and an entire conversation took place. A silent battle of wills was fought. Mycroft was the first to look down. Sherlock inhaled deeply with relief.
"What now…, " Mycroft had a grim look on his face, "might I ask?"
Sherlock thought for a few seconds. "Can you delay the media coming out with the story?"
Sherlock frowned and clarified, "That is, without anyone disappearing, getting into a mysterious accident, or having their lives somehow erased."
"You're very specific." Mycroft noticed.
"I know who I am talking too," Sherlock folded his arms waiting.
Mycroft was impressed, "A very intelligent move, little brother." He thought. "Under those conditions, only forty-eight hours, maybe a little more."
Sherlock gave a slight nod. "I will not need that long. I am quite ready to end this nightmare."
Mycroft took out his mobile and made a call. He gave an authentication code, and then said one word. "Abort." He calmly disconnected the mobile call.
When he noticed Sherlock's folded arms and raised eyebrows he simply shrugged and said. "Old habits die a slow and painful death."
Sherlock shook his head and ghosted a smile. Mycroft half smiled in response. Both smiles left.
Sherlock cleared his throat, "By the way, if you ever mention that I used the word love and your name in the same sentence; Anthea will get that love letter that you hid on your computer, along with the picture of you in your full glory except for your red silk pants. I would consider it my duty to help young love along."
"I never wrote a love letter," Mycroft said with rare confusion.
Sherlock raised his eyebrows higher.
"She'll never believe it was from me." Mycroft said with growing annoyance and apprehension. "And where would you get a picture of me in only my pants?"
Sherlock folded his arms in a dare.
Mycroft rolled his eyes in defeat, before spitting out through gritted teeth. "Agreed."
A few seconds past as the brother stared at each other. Mycroft's annoyance melted away into pride. His brother was clever. He had no doubt that the twit would do exactly as he had said. He shook his head as a slight smile graced his face. His brother was simultaneously the most annoying and the most interesting thing in his life.
Mycroft put a hand on his shoulder. "What now?" He asked.
"Let's go outside and discuss it with everyone." Sherlock said a little louder. "It will save them the trouble of trying to listen at the door."
Mycroft looked at the sliding door to the kitchen, as suddenly muffled feet were heard outside. Mycroft raised his eyebrows.