In The Light Only One Can See Me Rise

Chapter 1: Hindsight

***
SEBASTIANA
There's something about being caught in a standoff where you are directly staring into the end of the barrel of your own weapon that makes you feel much more confident as your partner makes his retirement vows to you uttering the words, "Until DEATH do us part." It sure does do a heck of justice especially when it comes down to a good old-fashioned shotgun wedding. And to think all it cost me was one bridesmaid, one general, and an indentured servant whom ties it all together in the most elegant way executing and sealing our fate's, whom keeps us running with a fighting chance. Though, there I am getting ahead of myself. I grin with all the giddyness that now swirls inside of me and glance at the many faces seated before us however I do not take the time as others do in these moments to distinguish who they are. I only recognize that their eyes have darted away from me and the atmosphere is that of silent anxiety and suspense. I am not like most women who would take to uneasiness and seek reassurance from the men beside them. Weak women who would probably tear at said men's shoulders to restore their comfort. I on the other hand am a breed all of my own and instead I welcomed this somber state, encouraged it even. Flashes of the fall graced through my mind, "The problems of your past are your business but the problems of your future are my privilege".
***

The silence was defeaning as I stood in the middle of the room, the quietness never agreed with me. They say silence is deadly because it demonstrates a lack of trust and resistance towards change. It demonstrates an absence of motivation and regard for the benefits of vulnerability. Of course that is all complete rubbish, the whole lot of it. What neanderthal would buy into that marlarkey. This is why I despised psychology a bunch of nonsensical guessing until broad conclusions are made. For instance, one of those frauds would probably say something trivial that my behavior could be attributed to a sense of powerlessness. Reading off that I'd refuse to admit that I needed help and closure that can only come from a path of healing. Whatever that dribble meant because with the current situation none of that prove true.

I just really hated the sound of utter nothingness, the pitch blackness that mocked and ridiculed me. Getting on my nerves asking to be BANG! BANG!

Taking out my frustration with target practice was quite effective much better than therapy. I chuckled to my self at the notion of handing off firearms to the mentally unstable.

After looking over my handiwork, I trudged back toward the monitors that I had left on. Some flickering while others played the same propaganda and mind numbing programming. Where was the broadcast!?

"Up to your obsessions again, Sebastiana. If I didn't know better I'd say you're actually feeling some remorse", I didn't bother engaging his taunts instead I just slumped in my Traditional Queen Anne chair.

Moriarty sighed exhaustively, "Maybe I  should pay a visit to our departed plaything."

MORIARTY
Sebastiana pivoted her gun at me, clearly unpleased by the way I referred to John. Satisfied by hitting such a sore spot I raised my hands defensively, "Not on my westwood".

"Try me."

"Stand down Seb, you know I was only teasing", Maybe another time.

Changing the subject, "What are we going to do now? His name's been cleared" referring to Sherlock.

Sebastiana now disinterested and drifting attention, "I'm surprised his death hasn't gotten that much coverage. I have yet to read an article or watch a news report on the telly about it at all."

Police investigations have proven Richard Brooks was in fact James Moriarty.

Reporter: Charges have been dropped against Sherlock Holmes  as his name was cleared.

Reporter: Alas the consulting detective who had rose to fame has returned to his previous life of recluse. Not having made a public appearance for nearly 3 years.

"I can't believe that conspiracies and sob stories take precedent over murder these days", she rolled her head back and resumed the position she had been sitting in.

Calling out to me, "Would you be a dear and bring me the tape?"

I obliged, rewinding the tape that she had played on repeat, over and over again as if the message had somewhat changed.

JOHN: Okay. Okay. Is it on?
(He sat down in his favorite armchair)
JOHN: Sherlock (He does one of his nervous grins) I know that you find no reason for birthdays to be celebrated because it is just -as you put it a biological occurrence. But by the chance that I do figure out the date someday...
(John stared at the screen, his face unsure.)
JOHN: Let me be the first to wish you many happy returns. (He chuckles and his voices cracks a bit) And I know. I know. I'll try not to make such a big deal out of it. Anyways, Cheers. I will see you again soon.

She perked up and smiled to herself, then laughed quietly and retrieved the prerecorded tape. Looking at it one last time in her hands before handing it to me, "Ensure that this gets delivered."