Imagined (Sherlock)
May. 11th, 2011 04:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morganstuartTitle: Imagined
Author: Morgan Stuart
Fandom: Sherlock
Disclaimer: This universe does not belong to me; I'm just an appreciative visitor. I make no profit from this fan work.
Description: Sherlock looks into the mind of Moriarty.
Historian's Note: This can be read as a companion piece to "Enclosed" or as a standalone sketch. This takes place after (and indirectly refers to) the Sherlock episode "The Great Game."
It was a pitifully small bundle to hold such weight.
Three narrow strips of fabric lay entwined and knotted together: fine silk the colour of aged parchment; worn but clean white Oxford cloth; soft cotton in a cosy, earth-toned plaid. Each piece was stained a telltale crimson-brown at one corner.
Seated at the makeshift laboratory assembled on the kitchen table, Sherlock Holmes lowered himself into the mindset of his nemesis like a diver descending into dark waters. He needed to know what the monster planned for the three men whose blood decorated the cloth before him.
Sherlock could almost hear Moriarty's smooth voice, faint as a whisper in his ear.
"You watch over him, fund his so-called lifestyle, and he repays you by resenting your attention and generosity. But I ask myself: why destroy one Holmes when I can destroy two? You can be my personal project. I'd like to take you apart and see what makes you tick before I throw away the pieces. I'm sure you're aware that you're far too dangerous to be allowed to live. Even if he asked me to spare you, which we both know he won't."
"You're a joke to him, and you always have been, even when you were saving his life and getting him clean. You bend the rules to allow him to do the work he loves – he needs – and you're insulted for it. But I have use for you even if he doesn't. My associates would dearly love to have a play date with a copper. Think of yourself as a night's free entertainment: 'use once and destroy.' Great for group morale, don't you think?"
"I wonder: what would it do to your master, if I put his little pet down for good? Even if – no, especially if – he begs for your life? Would he come apart at those stylish seams? I think it would be great fun to find out. Then again, now that you've shown him the joy of adopting a homeless puppy, he might just discover how simple it would be to replace you. The streets are full of strays, after all. Whatever happens, it seems that you lose."
Shocking, how easily it came to him.
Sherlock's fingers roamed over the three scraps of fabric, brushing against each separate piece where gore thickened its fibres, and then curled the bundle into a tight fist.
THE END
Vital Stats: Originally completed in May 2011.
Author: Morgan Stuart
Fandom: Sherlock
Disclaimer: This universe does not belong to me; I'm just an appreciative visitor. I make no profit from this fan work.
Description: Sherlock looks into the mind of Moriarty.
Historian's Note: This can be read as a companion piece to "Enclosed" or as a standalone sketch. This takes place after (and indirectly refers to) the Sherlock episode "The Great Game."
It was a pitifully small bundle to hold such weight.
Three narrow strips of fabric lay entwined and knotted together: fine silk the colour of aged parchment; worn but clean white Oxford cloth; soft cotton in a cosy, earth-toned plaid. Each piece was stained a telltale crimson-brown at one corner.
Seated at the makeshift laboratory assembled on the kitchen table, Sherlock Holmes lowered himself into the mindset of his nemesis like a diver descending into dark waters. He needed to know what the monster planned for the three men whose blood decorated the cloth before him.
Sherlock could almost hear Moriarty's smooth voice, faint as a whisper in his ear.
"You watch over him, fund his so-called lifestyle, and he repays you by resenting your attention and generosity. But I ask myself: why destroy one Holmes when I can destroy two? You can be my personal project. I'd like to take you apart and see what makes you tick before I throw away the pieces. I'm sure you're aware that you're far too dangerous to be allowed to live. Even if he asked me to spare you, which we both know he won't."
"You're a joke to him, and you always have been, even when you were saving his life and getting him clean. You bend the rules to allow him to do the work he loves – he needs – and you're insulted for it. But I have use for you even if he doesn't. My associates would dearly love to have a play date with a copper. Think of yourself as a night's free entertainment: 'use once and destroy.' Great for group morale, don't you think?"
"I wonder: what would it do to your master, if I put his little pet down for good? Even if – no, especially if – he begs for your life? Would he come apart at those stylish seams? I think it would be great fun to find out. Then again, now that you've shown him the joy of adopting a homeless puppy, he might just discover how simple it would be to replace you. The streets are full of strays, after all. Whatever happens, it seems that you lose."
Shocking, how easily it came to him.
Sherlock's fingers roamed over the three scraps of fabric, brushing against each separate piece where gore thickened its fibres, and then curled the bundle into a tight fist.
THE END
Vital Stats: Originally completed in May 2011.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-12 08:19 am (UTC)Agreed. I may have to use threats...OF KITTENS.
"I somehow suspect the soldier won't be manipulated or destroyed by one psycho having survived the Taliban..."
Also agreed. I don't know if I can seeing him rolling his eyes or just glaring.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-12 11:30 am (UTC)I don't know if I can seeing him rolling his eyes or just glaring.
Probably a bit of both, I'd imagine. He's been there, done that, and gotten the shirt (or vest, I suppose). I expect it must still sting, especially knowing the guy's just as crazy as he seems, but I agree, he won't be an easy nut to crack.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-12 06:00 pm (UTC)FINE THEN I WILL DO A MINI RESPONSE OF MY OWN
~~~~~
If it weren't for the seriousness of his situation, John would have laughed. The mad bastard honestly seemed to think his little Goldfinger speech would bother him. After months of having the entire New Scotland Yard team refer to him as all sorts of derogatory things - Sherlock's pet being far from the worst - Moriarty talking about him as though he were a stray puppy made him want to roll his eyes and fake a snore.
Does he really think this even remotely compares to Afghanistan? I'd rather have him monologue at me for a week than spend five minutes in the hands of the Afghani women.
Despite the fact that he ached all over in a disturbingly familiar way, John worried more for the still form of the DI, or the constant pain-filled tears streaming down the silent face of Sherlock's brother. None of them had spoken, apart from screaming during torture - everyone screamed, he knew from long experience - but no words were needed.
Now it was only a matter of time.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-12 08:01 pm (UTC)Oh, how Moriarty would hate being compared to - and being found lacking in comparison with - Afghani women! That was enough to put a smile on my face right there, even though I know John's right. (Although I rather suspect Moriarty would be secretly pleased at the Goldfinger comparison, even if John didn't mean it in that spirit.)
Dear brave, sensible, stoic John, how I love you. But why oh why so still, dear DI? *flails* The idea of Mycroft weeping, not to mention screaming, is almost too painful to bear. And yet I go back to Lestrade and want to give him a shock blanket. Augh, my DI!
Evil, you are - you and your little kittens, too. Eeeevil.
(And by evil, I mean brilliant.)
no subject
Date: 2011-05-13 05:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-14 12:14 pm (UTC)