Posted by Bowen Cates on 4/9/2008, 11:37 am, in reply to "Chapter 24 part two"
24.207.121.197
Chapter 25: In Which Moriarty Gets A Tad Carried Away In Modifying His Little Joy
Silence hung in the air, no one spoke, 1800 Holmes, because he no longer could and Theodore, because he had nothing to say.
Moriarty was far too busy keeping that gloating expression on his face to bother with words at all, other then ordering the guards to bring the other prisoners into the room over his communicator.
Theodore buried his face in his knees and rocked back and forth slowly, he felt lost in the events in front of him, afraid.
So, so afraid.
And alone.
He looked up, Holmes was getting worse, any moment now and the detective would collapse, Theodore wanted more then anything to help, to at least try to make him more comfortable, but there was nothing he could do within his promise besides watch in unspoken despair.
After a few more minutes, Moriarty got to his feet, he was still grinning, as though he were enjoying some delicious treat.
“Your friends are due any minute.” The words slid out of his mouth like tar, thick, moist and dark.
Just then, the door opened and the group of prisoners tramped into the room. Lestrade, Powell and Greg in the lead, the latter looking as though he was about to wet himself, with the three irregulars in tow, each displaying signs of being more haggard then the next.
Hargreaves was the last to immerge, walking beside Silvers who was carrying an unconscious 2103 Holmes in his muscular arms.
As an added woe, the guard seemed to have reclaimed his ionizer, for it twinkled menacingly on his belt.
Theodore gulped.
Holmes looked awful, and, although he did not seem to be infected with his counterpart’s illness, one could tell that moving him had not been the best idea.
Hargreaves had a grave expression on his face; the kind one assumed when you had a patient you really hoped was as stubborn as people said he was.
Watson was not present, no doubt they had not wished to bother transporting a heavy compudroid down the hall, of course reactivating him had been out of the question.
Lestrade was the first, injured though she was, to take real stock of the situation. Her eyes widened as they lighted upon the tank and its two occupants.
She turned to Moriarty, a snarl ripping its way across her features.
“You Slime ball! What have you done to Holmes?”
The criminal sniggered “I have not done anything Inspector, The Coolie disease is more then capable of killing him on it’s own.”
No words seemed sufficient to describe the inspector’s horror.
Moriarty turned, the glint in his eyes lighting unpleasantly upon Silvers.
“If you wouldn’t mind setting him down, I have something I need to say to our dear detective.”
The guard dropped his load on the ground with a resounding thump, Hargreaves, despite the danger of such an action, dived to his knees beside his patient.
“You’re going to kill him, bumping him around like that!” he yelled.
“Thank you Doctor, I am already well aware of that, the syringe if you please,” he held out his hand for it.
“What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“Come, come, don’t be foolish, tell me where you keep the drug that will wake him.”
“Never! It will kill him!”
“Or I shall kill you, and then where will Mr. Holmes be?”
Hargreaves looked helplessly at the group behind him, Greg nodded, and the Irregulars each eyed him reassuringly.
“It’s okay.” Deidre told him “we trust you.”
Lestrade nodded as well, and Hargreaves, getting to his feet, walked over to a locked cabinet, pressed his thumb to the recognition pad, and once the door had swung open, removed a pre-readied syringe full of reddish liquid.
“I shall administer it.” He insisted.
Moriarty nodded.
Theodore watched in helpless suspense as the Doctor slowly eased the needle into 2103 Holmes’ shoulder, all the while assuring him quietly, despite his delirium, that the situation was not as dire as it seemed.
“Just relax Mr. Holmes, Just relax, we’re all here for you.”
He pulled the syringe out, and placed it on the floor after putting the cap back on the end.
The detective’s eyes fluttered, but he said nothing.
Just then, Theodore had a strange feeling, he turned, his fellow prisoner had indeed fulfilled Theodore’s earlier prophesy, he had collapsed onto the floor, jerking his limbs in wild, tyrannical movements.
Lestrade’s voice cut through the barrier. “Theo, stay back, don’t touch him.” her voice was cracking.
“But-”
“She is right.” Hargreaves had been observing the situation from his post on the floor. “he’s having a hallucination, if you touch him his brain will just fit it into the delusion, if he’s being attacked, you become the attacker, it’s best for him if you just stay back.”
Theodore was forced to relent.
Moriarty only laughed. “Another few moments and his dear counterpart of today will be conscious, pray, everyone take a seat, I shall have a very interesting message to deliver to you all.”
He paused for a moment, eyeing Hargreaves. “You too Doctor, there is nothing you can do for your patient at present.”
Hargreaves didn’t budge.
He sat there, strait backed and noble, and Theodore couldn’t help but think that he looked extremely distinguished, exactly the kind of person one knew, would always do the right thing.
“Doctor.” The criminal warned.
“Someone must stay beside him, he needs reassurance right now, and since you have deprived him of greatest friend, temporary as that may be;”
Moriarty smiled, amusedly.
“I must ask you to allow either myself, or someone else he trusts to stay by him, otherwise, I doubt he shall live through the gloating explanation of your tyranny.”
“Oh, I do like a man who thinks on his feet, very well, the inspector may take your post, doctor.”
Lestrade got to her feet, and offered her space on the floor to Hargreaves, who took it.
She got down on her knees and took her friend’s hand in hers.
Deidre, who was sitting beside Hargreaves, looked up at Theodore for the millionth time.
“You alrigh’?” she asked.
“Sure, I’m fine; its 1800 Holmes I’m worried about.”
“He’ll be alright, he’s strong,” Wiggins joined in.
“Beep beep clock.”
2103 Holmes groaned.
“Excellent.” Moriarty grinned, “Now, before I begin, I must ask you all a question,”
1800 Holmes was slowly regaining awareness of the situation.
“You are familiar with the middle age method of torture, in which the victim’s intestines are carved out while he is still conscious, and cooked in front of him?”
Greg gasped; Powell seemed immune, even to this horrific vision.
“Well, although I shall do nothing so outdated, I shall, as it were, attempt something of the same idea.”
“You depraved lunatic!” Theodore screamed through the barrier. “He’s going to make 1800 Holmes watch himself die, that’s why he wants 2103 Holmes conscious, so he can see the look on his own face!”
“Indeed.”
“Well you’re out of luck, you made one mistake!”
“Which is?”
“1800 Holmes is too delirious; he won’t even register it.”
“On the contrary” Moriarty was enjoying this. “he won’t be in six and a half minutes, my, my, I did get a bit carried away when modifying that little joy, now didn’t I?”
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