The Endgame (BBC Sherlock) -3-

8. Gambling Girl

The first thing I heard when I got back with Moriarty was Amanda's piercing screams.

I broke into a run as we got back inside, and I hiked up the stairs, tackling two at a time. I quickly located Mandy's door, and when I tried to burst in, I bounced off. I banged on the door with my fists, trying to break it open with my shoulder.

"Mandy!" I cried out. She couldn't hear me, she was screaming too loud. "Mandy! Open this door!" I panted. "Open the god damn door!" But nobody heard me. Or they did and chose to ignore me.

What are they doing to her? It should be me. I got us into this mess. I remained by the door in a shuddering, huddling mess, as I heard Mandy continue to scream and plea and beg for it to stop.

When abrupt silence started, I scrambled to my feet. Just as I got to my feet, the door opened. A man with a stern-looking gaze filed out, and I was alarmed at the sight of blood on his hands. We locked eyes, and I felt like cowering into a ball on the floor.

The man didn't speak a word as he left, and once I realized he left the door wide open, I rushed in. Mandy was sobbing, trembling, and bleeding. Her face was puffy and swollen, her arms were cut into. I saw a thin red line across her neck. Her skin was layered in sweat.

"Mandy," I whispered in horror as I timidly approached her.

"Get away from me!" she howled, thrashing her head up, her blonde hair getting in her eyes. "Stay away!"

"Mandy, Mandy!" I put my hands delicately on her arms. "It's me. It's Rachel. Mandy, please, shh." She was blubbering nonsense which turned into a mixture of crying and hiccupping.

"W-w-why?" she moaned.

"I'm so sorry," I whimpered. Does Moriarty have that man hurt her when I'm not around? Or it is because I tried to sneak a gun past him? Either way, Mandy was in pain, and there was nothing I could do to make it stop. "I want to help you."

"Y-you can," she sniffled. "I-I may not be able to walk around, but y-you can. H-hurt the bastard for me. A-anyone you can find. O-or better yet, f-find the key." She wiggled her shackles weakly. "T-they only let me s-shower o-once since I've been here. T-they gave me l-little water. S-scraps of stale food."

I pursed my lips. If anyone should be getting this treatment, it should be me. He's doing this to punish me. If I play nice, he plays nice. I sucked in a breath. I really didn't want to have to play good girl to Jim Moriarty of all people, but I couldn't let Mandy keep going through this.

It was a conflicting thought, something I knew I was going to wrestle with for a long time. I have to pledge full, utter allegiance to that son of a bitch. Or fake it as best as I can and hope he doesn't see through it.

* * *

Most of my dreary day consisted of searching for the key to Mandy's shackles and trying to avoid Moriarty at all costs. I managed to succeed in one, the other, not so much.

Night fell, and it made the barred windows feel much more intimidating. I sighed as I stared gloomily. This is what prison feels like...only it's better treatment, no cells, and not a lot of prison mates to share the experience with. I rubbed my temples. They need to find us. I need to get some sort of signal out to them to let them know Mandy and I are alive.

Deflated, I left the dining room and lugged myself up the stairs to the top floor of the building. There's got to be a way to fight back without consequences. I tried to use what brainpower I had at the moment to think up any sort of plan. If I pushed back with fire, Moriarty would match that fire, and turn the heat up. If I played my part passively...