Consulting Criminal

Time and circumstances turned enemies into friends and viceversa. Moriarty was one of his worst enemies, well he was even the only one he could remember, but here he was walking towards his cabin. Sure, this all situation wasn’t making Moriarty and Mycroft friends, but they had to work together now, thus the memory loss made Moriarty an Iceman’s ally and allies weren’t enemies. Moriarty was still an enemy though. This was complicated. Perhaps suits were the only thing in common between them.

Mycroft told to the other man that he owed him a favour and that this favour was very valuable, but in reality Mycroft couldn’t even remember how intelligent he was, however he had to be very smart because Moriarty accepted the deal. Mycroft understood that he was supposed to be very intelligent because of his surname and what he read in his blog…especially because of what he remembered from Moriarty’s life.

“You know, I once heard a joke about amnesia. I forgot how it goes, though.” Jim pulled his legs down and sat up. He smirked faintly as he regarded the eldest Holmes. He looked different than when last Moriarty had seen him. It was apparent that the memory loss had taken a toll. On the outside Mycroft was still cold and sarcastic, but Jim had to wonder how deeply that ran. Perhaps he would be able to find out, now that Mycroft had asked for his help to understand the internal clockwork of his head. Somewhere there was a broken gear that prevented the memories from ticking. And somewhere else there was one that worked, that still spilled out all the memories of Jim.

He’d been wondering how exactly he would help Mycroft remember ever since he’d agreed to help. And turning the possibilities of favors he could ask around and around in his head. Jim had decided eventually that the best approach was to figure out how the memories had been lost in the first place, and go from there. He had free access to play with Mycroft Holmes, who was suddenly at his mercy, and that was a delicious idea. The favor would keep, and when he needed it, he’d know.

It’ll be quite a lot of debt, are you sure you’re going to come running when I snap my fingers? I’ll be ever so disappointed if you don’t, and it’s never good to make daddy disappointed.

There’s lots of things on this ship that make me curious. That’s the nature of this world. But yes, I’m curious. Mycroft lost his memories! Come see the eight wonder of the world–his empty head! Fascinating.

Clients? Well… not exactly. But you focus on your memories, I don’t feel like bragging just yet.

Please, don’t call yourself daddy is quite…repulsive.

Not just curious about my memories, but about yourself too. You should be curious about the fact that I remember you and you only. I hope that is not making you uneasy. Of course not.

Listen, Moriarty. If you don’t trust my word about the debt then trust this: I don’t want to survive, I want to live, but if I can’t have my memory back then it is just a matter of surviving and you should know very well how boring and futile it is.

I don’t just want to survive, Jim. I’ll repay my debt.

Fine. I’m curious, I’ll help, blah blah blah. Don’t thank me, just see you keep your word.

Isn’t Sherlock the one that’s supposed to swoop in and save the day, while I watch with amusement? I can already tell this is going to be exhausting.

Stop by my cabin sometime, we’ll talk. If you can remember enough to find it, I suppose.

What, you’re going to sic Sherlock on me? I’m terrified, really.

 Debts, however, I might be interested in. Granted you ever regain your memory, I’m not sure how useful you are like this. Can’t put ice back together once it’s shattered unless you melt it first. That’s what’s happening here–look at you, reaching out so desperately now that you’ve lost your dear, darling memories. Surround yourself in the people you used to remember, really open up for once in your life. Except it won’t work.

Oh, you and your nicknames are always so charming.

No, but I remember how you are obsessed with him, writing his name all over the walls in your cell. It’s very telling and very showing, you are an attention seeker.

I’m not useful like this, instead I can be useful to you if I regain my memories because I always repay my debts, Moriarty.

Reaching out? I’m not reaching out to you. But, there must be a reason why you are the only person that I remember. Aren’t you curious, at the very least?

However, nice ice-reference, I’m the Iceman, I got it, that I remember. Probably, I remember it because it’s correlated to you.

It’ll be quite a lot of debt, are you sure you’re going to come running when I snap my fingers? I’ll be ever so disappointed if you don’t, and it’s never good to make daddy disappointed.

There’s lots of things on this ship that make me curious. That’s the nature of this world. But yes, I’m curious. Mycroft lost his memories! Come see the eight wonder of the world--his empty head! Fascinating.

Clients? Well... not exactly. But you focus on your memories, I don’t feel like bragging just yet.

he went to bed and he bumped his head

 and he couldn’t remember in the morning.

How did you manage to lose your memory, that’s what I’m wondering? I imagine it went something like that.

Weren’t those good times? Why do you like umbrellas, though? That’s a good question to start with. I’ve always thought it was to push people away. Your little hermit’s cave in a crowd full of people. Or maybe it’s just your horrible fashion sense and accessory choice. We might never know.

Oh God. You are like this even with Sherlock? Can’t actually remember it, never saw you interacting with him.

I truly hope we…I will know and not just about the umbrellas.

There is no fate, we are too clever to actually believe in it.

What, you’re going to sic Sherlock on me? I’m terrified, really.

 Debts, however, I might be interested in. Granted you ever regain your memory, I’m not sure how useful you are like this. Can’t put ice back together once it’s shattered unless you melt it first. That’s what’s happening here--look at you, reaching out so desperately now that you’ve lost your dear, darling memories. Surround yourself in the people you used to remember, really open up for once in your life. Except it won’t work.

I could probably help you, not that you’ve ever been nice enough to me to deserve it. Pity, as I’m sure you’ve got a lot of ground to cover. Especially here, you’ve really got to know who you are. Who knows what might come out otherwise?

he went to bed and he bumped his head

 and he couldn’t remember in the morning.

How did you manage to lose your memory, that’s what I’m wondering? I imagine it went something like that.

Weren’t those good times? Why do you like umbrellas, though? That’s a good question to start with. I’ve always thought it was to push people away. Your little hermit’s cave in a crowd full of people. Or maybe it’s just your horrible fashion sense and accessory choice. We might never know.

I have been reading my blog to understand who I am because I can’t remember. I was planning to not say anything and pretend that I still remember, but it couldn’t go far. For what I understood from the blog, I am Mycroft Holmes and I like umbrellas very much considering that the last blog post I wrote was about a brolly that I lost. I can’t remember anything more than what I read in my blog, at least for now. However, perhaps you can help me. Please, to all the people who I had a contact with at least once, please, help me to remember who I am. For example: what was I doing before losing my memory? Perhaps some of you might know it? Living without knowing who I am…it is not living. It’s just surviving. Please, help me. 

I could probably help you, not that you’ve ever been nice enough to me to deserve it. Pity, as I’m sure you’ve got a lot of ground to cover. Especially here, you’ve really got to know who you are. Who knows what might come out otherwise?

Since you’ve experienced both–which did you prefer? Human and drowning in emotions, or being free of them completely?

Human and drowning in emotions. There’s far too much to feel in this world to miss out on it.

It was in my hand and then it disappeared. I’m not even surprised, but if you see it then please let me know. Yes, it’s just a brolly, but…just please let me know.

His confession halted her. It looked like she really wasn’t alone in this place. Alone as in everyone here seemed so set on being the hero she was starting to think it was contagious. Finally someone else saw how unworthy of their lives they were living. And it was a human, even more fun. Changing back from Irene to herself she kept a small smirk on her face. The words were on the tip of her tongue, and she believed she could learn anything from him if she just asked right.

Then he asked his questions. It was beautiful. Something rushed through her that she hadn’t felt in so long. Hope, maybe? “Alliances are wonderful if formed with the right people. Or in our case, I guess it would be the wrong people.” She told him before walking over towards him.

“The wrong people indeed.” Jim mused. He hadn’t expected her to drop down in front of him, but the motion brought back that familiar feeling that had been sadly lacking so far in the Pocket, other than when he had held Mycroft Holmes at gunpoint. He had been lying low for long enough that every inch of him was itching to do something. Watch people kneel in front of him, just like Eve was doing now.

The abilities she spoke of only increased his interest and that creeping feeling inside of him. He placed his hands lightly over top of hers and lifted them up, nodding slightly. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip.“Yes, a gift does sound... intriguing.” Jim didn’t want to look as desperate as he felt to receive the gift she was speaking of. He’d channel this impatience once he’d actually gotten it, and had a chance to try the gift out. Maybe on someone that had it coming--Mycroft Holmes’ face still danced at the back of his head, tinged with annoyance at that horrible bossiness the older Holmes possessed. Or perhaps he would go after someone smaller, more breakable. They could be a trial run. “If you’re willing to give it away, I certainly won’t say no. We need all the edge we can get here.”

Since you’ve experienced both--which did you prefer? Human and drowning in emotions, or being free of them completely?

You don’t entirely sound too thrilled about that.

I was hit by a car and then I exploded, two separate events, both ending in my death. So I’m alive again? Or am I some sort of ghost because I’m certain there are people here that haven’t died yet. That I know of.

Yes, you’re alive again. Which is lucky for you, I suppose. Second chances and all that, very exciting.