Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9125329.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_(TV), Sherlock_Holmes_&_Related_Fandoms
  Relationship:
      Mormor_-_Relationship, Sebastian_Moran_&_Jim_Moriarty, Sebastian_Moran/
      Jim_Moriarty, Richard_Brook/Sebastian_Moran, Richard_Brook/Jim_Moriarty,
      Jim_Moriarty_&_Jim_Moriarty's_Mother, Richard_Brook/Severin_Moran
  Character:
      Jim_Moriarty, Sebastian_Moran, Sherlock_Holmes, Mycroft_Holmes, John
      Watson, Irene_Adler, Severin_Moran, Richard_Brook, Greg_Lestrade, Molly
      Hooper, Mike_Stamford, Sherrinford_Holmes, Redbeard, Eurus_Holmes
  Additional Tags:
      Drug_Abuse, Alcohol_Abuse, Addiction, Self_Harm, Abuse, Domestic, Sex,
      Smut, Fluff, Murder, Death, Torture, Mental_Illness, Family_History, Past
      Rape/Non-con, Rape_Recovery, Rape_Fantasy, Rape, Anal_Sex, Rough_Sex,
      Shower_Sex, Sex_Toys, Gay_Sex, Public_Sex, Sexual_Abuse, Suicide_Attempt,
      Faked_Suicide, Suicide_Notes, Implied/Referenced_Suicide, Psychological
      Torture, Psychological_Trauma, Panic_Attacks, Non-Consensual_Oral_Sex,
      Suicidal_Thoughts, Drug_Use, Recreational_Drug_Use, Implied/Referenced
      Drug_Use, Drug_Addiction, References_to_Drugs, Non-Consensual_Drug_Use,
      Sherlock_Holmes_and_Drug_Use, Drug_Withdrawal, Past_Drug_Use, Drugged
      Sex, Self-Medication, Alcohol_Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced
      Alcohol_Abuse/Alcoholism, Child_Abuse, Verbal_Abuse, Substance_Abuse,
      Past_Sexual_Abuse, Childhood_Sexual_Abuse, Emotional/Psychological_Abuse,
      Past_Child_Abuse, Implied/Referenced_Child_Abuse, Past_Abuse, Pain,
      Painplay, Explicit_Sexual_Content, Sexual_Violence, Assassination, Modern
      Assassins, Temporary_Character_Death
  Series:
      Part 1 of JimJam_and_the_Tiger
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-31 Completed: 2017-02-02 Chapters: 49/49 Words: 77391
****** There's Nothing You Can Say ******
by The_man_with_the_key
Summary
     Jim's life isn't normal. Between the constant abuse and the struggles
     to find who he is, he slowly looses sense of reality.
     "Why should I apologise for the monster I am? No one ever apologised
     for making me this way."
     (Mormor story, but mostly the story of Jim's life. Very long build
     up- for Mormor go straight to the chapter titled just that!)
Notes
     Please comment and like and download, I promise you this will slowly
     improve over time. I apologise for any spelling errors, I'm missing
     the 'm', 'n' and 'b' buttons on my computer and it's a struggle to
     try and get them to work. Hopefully I'll edit them in later though,
     and I won't miss any.
     If anything makes you feel uncomfortable during this though, please
     stop reading immediately. This story is going to go from bad to
     worse, mostly because I enjoy very dark and twisted stories. I
     apologise for how my brain works. I love you all, and I hope you
     enjoy.
***** Authors notes and warnings, please read! *****
Hello, I am the author! The man with the key. Quite literally, because I am
unlocking all doors that could possibly lead anywhere within this story.
Through out the story there will be rather graphic violence, depictions of
sexual abuse and physical abuse. There will also be strong language, drug use,
alcohol abuse, murder, torture and rape. I do apologise if any of these make
you feel uncomfortable. I do advise you to read at your own discretion. If it
does make you feel uncomfortable or sick or starts to trigger you in any way,
please stop straight away!!!
Jim will be the main focus of this story, it's a very slow burn, mostly the
life of Jim and Richard for the first half, from chapter 20 I bring Sebastian
into it. I suppose you could skip through and it would still make sense? I'm
not sure, but I advise reading the whole thing.
It sticks pretty close to the BBC series, I've researched the rest of the
information, since I will admit I've never read the books. I'm not too good at
reading things so I just based the whole thing of the series.
This is my interpretation of Jimmy, I refuse to believe the man is a
psychopath. Or at least that he was born that way. So I decided to give him my
own back story, and try and explain things. It's a little rushed, but this is
just a origin story I suppose? I have wrote a one shot of Richard to explain a
part of this series, so I do hope you will read that. The sequel is definietly
more detailed and makes more sense.
Anyways, I'll stop rambling now; to know when I upload follow my twitter;
@JimMoriartyxo and my instagram; jimmoriartyxo !
Enjoy...
***** Beginning *****
Name: James Brook
Age: 11
"Come here you little shit!" He yelled from the living room. He had been
drinking again and that meant that nothing good could come from me leaving the
safety of my room. I had to though, because it was the only way to keep him
happy. To stop him from destroying the one area that I felt safe in. He never
entered my room. It was my sanctuary. It was mostly due to him not wanting to
climb the stairs, but that didn't mean he wouldn't if I didn't do as I was
told.
I took a deep breath racing to the stairs, not wanting to make things worse by
taking too long, although he would probably accuse me of that anyways. "Be a
good boy and get me another drink, will 'ya Jimmy?" He laughed, his head thrown
back, but his eyes dead and cold. I nodded, scurrying off into the kitchen and
taking one of the many beer cans from the fridge. "There's a good boy, why
don't you sit down and watch the match with me?"
He was being oddly nice, which only meant that the social workers were due to
turn up any minute. I nodded swallowing the lump in my throat and taking a seat
on the opposite end of the couch.
I didn't dare say a word to him. I didn't dare to even look in his direction.
It would only cause more problems. He just sat staring blankly at the
television, beer in hand.
The doorbell rang a few minutes later, my mother appearing from upstairs where
she had been cleaning up, to open the door. "Good after noon, Mrs. Brook. May
we come in?" The woman asked. My mother moved to the side, allowing the older
woman to enter the house, her eyes scanning around the room.
"Hello, Ms. Jones." I spoke quietly as she perched herself in the arm chair
across from the television. She smiled, and nodded her head in
achknowledgement, rummaging through her bag for her notebook.
"Good Morning, James. Mr. Brook." She said adressing us both once she had
everything ready. My father mumbled a quick 'hello', before going back to the
football match. "Men, aye? Always watching their football." She joked, I simply
nodded, not daring to say anything, when Richard entered the room.
"Hello, Ms. Jones!" He shouted excitedly. Richard was my twin brother. Twelve
minutes younger than me, exactly identical in every way, yet still everyone's
favourite. Including my father's. Ms. Jones grinned at him as he offered her
tea or coffee, the usual kindness' he shows her. I continued to stay silent.
"So James, how are things in school?" She asked. She was only here because of
the kid that died while we were on a school trip. Carl Powers. He had drowned
while we were swimming. Richard wasn't too fazed by it, he didn't know Carl.
Richard and I were in seperate classes at school, and so he and Carl never met,
and therefore he wasn't there when Carl had passed. I was though, I was there
for the whole thing, and I was even there to steal his trainers so as to not
get caught.
I had killed Carl. He laughed at me for flinching when someone got to close to
me. I couldn't have someone laugh at me. Therefore; he had to go. I mixed his
eczema medication with a poison that was fairly undetectable, unless they were
looking for it.
Ms. Jones was the councellor for everyone who had attended the swimming class
that day, as well as the student's who were to Carl. I had managed to convince
her I was stable and mentally well, but I continued with the 'shy' act because
it would throw anyone off thinking I had killed him, had they traced the poison
back to me somehow.
"Good. Great actually. I got an A in my science project last week." I smiled,
pulling on the sleeve of my shirt and refusing to hold eye contact. Ms. Jones
just nodded, scribbling things down on her note pad.
"And how are things at home?" She questioned. This was the question I hated.
She rarely asked it, but whenever she did I knew I had to be very careful.
I put on another smile, my heart pounding in my chest and feeling as though it
was going to burst through my rib cage. "Good, yeah. Boring if I'm being
honest. Not much to do lately." She nodded again, and again scribbled some
things down on her notepad.
"Anything you would like to discuss with me, dear?" She asked. I paused for a
moment, staring at the ceiling before shaking my head. "Alright then love. This
is our final meeting so I'll write up a report and then we're all done." She
smiled.
"Really? Has it been two months already?" I asked, to which she only nodded
placing her things back in her bag and getting ready to leave. "Well I'll miss
our talks, Ms. Jones. I appreciate everything you've done for me."
"Well that's dear, dear. I'll let myself out, good bye James." She said and
practically ran out of the house. She didn't like staying long, mostly because
I never spoke about anything. It was over now though, and I no longer had to
worry about her randomly turning up at my house.
Richard sat beside me, his head resting on my shoulder as we all finished
watching the football, our team now loosing 3-2. This was not going to make my
father happy, neither was Ms. Jones' visit, and so I knew what was headed to
me.
With the final minute slowly counting down the time until my father would
explode, Richard made his way upstairs and into the bathroom, the faint sound
of his footsteps silencing as the shower began.
Five.
My father was starting to grow angry, his blood boiling and face slowly turning
a bright shade of red.
Four.
His hand was beginning to shake, this was going to be a particular bad
experience.
Three.
The sound of his breathing began to grow louder, each breath more frantic than
the last as his eyes narrowed. His fist tightening around the can threatening
to break.
Two.
The final whistle blowing as the player kicked the ball into the goal, but they
won't accept it. My fathers fury about to blow as he got to his feet.
One.
The leather belt quickly being undone and slipping through the loops of his
jeans. "You little shit! How dare you make her think you were having problems!
You're lucky I haven't killed you!" He bellowed folding the leather strip in
half and smacking them together. "Stand up!"
I did as I was told, scrambling to my feet and waiting for my punishment. 'I
deserve this.' I thought over and over, the only way I could think to
rationalise what was about to happen, the only words that helped me get through
each and every beating.
One.
The leather connected with my face, a large gash made along my cheek and I
could feel blood falling slowly down my cheeks. The familiar stinging sensation
flowing over my skin.
Two.
The second one was straight to my stomach, causing me to keel over almost
falling to my knees in pain, a horrible sick feeling being left and an obvious
bruise forming already.
Three.
This one to the back of my knees sending me forward, only barely managing to
get my arms out in front of me, to catch the fall. The palms of my hands
stinging from where they had rubbed against the carpet. This was nothing new,
however he was taking his time, which only made me more nervous, as it meant
the beating would be longer.
By the time my father had finished I had been hit thirty six times. My face a
bloody mess and my hands a bright red. Black spots were appearing in my vision
and I could barely stand but I knew I had to leave the room before he came
back, get up the stairs and allow Richard to fix me up.
I groaned wiping some of the blood from my forehead and stumbled towards the
stairs, almost loosing my balance twice. "Come on, James." Richard spoke up,
causing me to jump. He wrapped his arm around my waist, slowly pulling me up
the stairs as I hissed in pain, my skin burning from the sudden contact.
Richard led me into the bathroom, pushing me down onto the toilet seat and
began to clean the large gash across my cheek, his soft hands brushing against
my skin every so often. "You should tell someone, James. You know I'd back you
up." He whispered, as he tried to decide if I would need stitches.
"Shut up, Richard. You know why I can't do that. Mother can't provide for us
both alone. It's better this way, for all of us." I insisted, like always.
"Besides, things will get better soon. We're young. Everyone gets punished when
their a kid. It's normal." I lied, and I knew he would eventually work out I
was lying to him, but for now I would take what I could get.
Richard slowly pulling my shirt off, assessing the damage, before starting to
run a hot bath. This was probably the most painful part of any beating, the
look on his face. I wasn't a person who cared much about anyone. Richard was my
twin though, and I couldn't help but care about him. So it made me feel awful
when I would have him taking care of me, and having to see me like this, but
mother didn't care, so it was all left to him.
I slowly stripped off the rest of my clothes once the bath was ready, carefully
laying down in the water. I gritted my teeth so as to not cry out in pain, my
whole body feeling as though it was on fire as I lay there. "You know, I could
pretend to be you while you get better." Richard whispered, knowing very well
what I would say to this suggestion.
"Richard I will actually murder you if you suggest that one more time." I told
him, closing my eyes and allowing the water to sooth my aching body. Richard
sat with his back against the tub, his head falling back to rest on the edge of
it. "I'll be fine. Just need some rest and I'll be right as rain by the
morning."
"What? Just so you can get beat again? James you're eleven. You can barely take
it for much longer, he's going to kill you." He argued. I groaned and opened my
eyes to look at him.
"You're eleven too, Rich. I just don't want you to get hurt. Now drop the
subject and go get me some clean clothes, and pass me that towel." I demanded,
before sliding further down the bath and dunking my head into the water,
quickly holding my breath before I went under.
Richard reluctantly did as he was told, leaving the room mumbling something
about getting an early night before school tomorrow. I sat up again, an empty
pit in my stomach from being so hard on Richard when all he's trying to do is
help, but I needed to get past it, it was for the best.
***** Pain *****
Chapter Summary
     Was Carl really worth it?
Chapter Notes
     So these chapters aren't really the story, these are just things that
     you should know before hand so things make sense when I reference
     them without too many flashbacks...
Name: James Brook
Age: 15
Carl wasn't worth it. Why had I wasted my first kill on Carl Powers? Why hadn't
I chosen Sady? Or Jamie? Leon or Daisy? Why did I choose Carl? Why did I waste
it on someone so easy to kill? Why hadn't I used my first kill to make it
really special? Why hadn't it been my father?
I groaned slowly getting out of bed, the pain from the previous nights beatings
returning suddenly. Things had gotten worse since Carl died. My father had lost
his job, and refused to get another, leaving my mother to work three jobs to
provide for us. My father sat on his arse all day and drank, his usually
muscular body nothing more than fat now.
High school didn't help either. I had one year left until I went to college and
I was struggling to keep myself together. Richard had stopped speaking to me
over the years, he got friends and a girlfriend, he was happy and he was safe.
I on the other hand had myself. I made my way into the kitchen, grabbing a
glass of orange juice and sitting down at the table. "Morning." Richard said. I
nodded and continued to sip my drink staring down at the table, the white paint
chipping away over the years. Richard fixed himself a quick breakfast, and left
the room again, grabbing a box of painkillers along his way.
"James, make yourself useful and bring me a can would you?" My father shouted
from the ajoining room. I rolled my eyes and stood up from my chair, crossing
the room to the fridge. There was no food in it, just beer. I was surprised we
had any food in this house with how much he drank. I suppose he needed to eat
though.
"Took you long enough." He snapped as he snatched the can from my hand, "You
best be on your best behaviour tonight, your Aunt May is coming around and I
will not tolerate your usual behaviour of partying until morning."
"Yes, father." I told him, and went back upstairs. He knew it was Richard who
went out every night. He knew it was Richard who would knock over the vase's my
mother had lying around when he came home, and he knew it was Richard who would
be having sex with a girl at three in the morning. He just liked to blame me.
I threw myself down on the bed and groaned. Maybe I could escape with just a
small beating tonight, with Aunt May being here and all. I thought, that was
until I heard the loud moans of a female coming from Richard's bedroom.
The moaning went of for what felt like hours, each one equaling another
beating. I could feel the pain of my father's belt already, I just hoped that
the girl would stick around a little afterwards, just to put it off. I wasn't
that lucky though.
No more than five minutes after the moaning had ceased the girl was running
down the stairs and out the door. Not it was just a waiting game. I took
several deep breaths, bracing myself for the loud shouting of my name, but it
never came, instead there were footsteps, loud, heavy, echoing footsteps
getting closer and closer to my room.
"Do you think it's funny to fuck someone in my house?" He screamed as he burst
into the room. He was more than pissed, he had made the journey up the stairs.
Richard was standing in the door way now and I could see the apologetic look on
his face. My father grabbed my shirt, kicking the door shut before throwing me
onto the floor. "I'm going to teach you what happens when you decide to fuck
someone in my house!" He told me, slipping his belt through the loops of his
jeans, but this time he threw it on the ground, moving to pull his zipper down
and remove his pants. "On your knees." He instructed, pulling me by the hair.
I could feel my breath getting caught in my throat as I looked up at him, fear
racking through my body. "I'm sure your faggot ass knows what to do already."
He scoffed, now removing his boxer shorts to produce a rather large erect cock.
I swallowed the lump in my throat blinking back tears, as the grip on my hair
tightened. "Get on with it."
I leaned forward parting my lips and placing them at the tip of his dick,
slowly making my way down the shaft. "I thought you would be better than this."
He laughed, pushing my head down and causing me to choke. I fought through it,
waiting until he released his hold and moved my tounge around as much as
possible. Eventually his grip loosened and I could move back up to the tip,
wrapping my hand around the base.
"I'm sure Richard would be a lot better than this, maybe I should tr- Oh that's
better." He said as I moved faster, my mouth moving up and down his cock as
fast as I could, anything to keep him from Richard.
It took thirty minutes, but eventually he came, the warm sticky white fluid
shooting into my mouth. "Pathetic." My father commented, fixing himself and
leaving the room. It was mere seconds before Richard burst through the door
with a first aid kit.
"What happened, where do I need to-" He began to panic, until he saw me. I had
managed to fall to the ground, curled up around myself, every part of my body
shaking with fear and a horrible sense of being unclean. "James... James are
you..."
"Leave me alone..." I cried out, not daring to look up at him. Richard didn't
move though, he just stayed, staring at me. "Get out, Rich." I tried again, but
once again he didn't move. I slowly rose to my feet, my vision hazy from the
tears. "I'm fine." I whispered finally as I walked past him and towards the
bathroom...
Why didn't I kill him?
***** Time *****
Chapter Summary
     "I didn't mean for him to do that!"
     "But you knew he would do something!"
Chapter Notes
     After math of the abuse in the previous chapter. Major triggers.
Name: James Brook
Age: 15
I just sat there, legs crossed as the water sprayed over me. Time seems to have
slowed down, the world comin to a stop as I stared at the silver taps in front
of me.
My throat hurt from choking and my eyes were stinging from holding back the
tears. I could feel my body slowly going into shock and tenseing at the memory.
How could he have done this to his own child? Beatings I could understand. When
he was younger his father would beat him with a belt. They were different times
though. Things had changed.
This.
This wasn't something you do to your child. This was rape. Or was it? I hadn't
said no. Maybe if I had said no he wouldn't have done it? Just beat me instead
and left me for dead. Maybe if I had said no he might have finally killed me? I
wouldn't want to leave Richard here all alone though.
There was a quiet knock on the bathroom door, and I turned around not wanting
Richard to see me cry. I never wanted him to see me cry. To see me as weak. He
came closer, pulling the shower curtain back a bit and holding a bottle of
mouthwash out to me, resting it on my shoulder and sending chills through my
body. "Thanks." I choked out, opening the bottle and drinking as much of it as
possible.
"I'm really sorry that he... It was all my fault." Richard spoke quietly
between sobs. I could hear his manic breathing as I spat the cold blue liquid
down the drain, turning my head slightly to look at him. "I'm really sorry
James. I didn't mean for him to do that."
I looked away again, running a hand through my hair, a nervous habit I had
picked up as a child. "But you knew he would do something." I mumbled, and
poured more of the mouthwash into my gob, swirling it around my mouth and
hoping to regain some of the feeling of being clean.
"James please... We could call the police?" He suggested, and I threw the now
empty bottle at him. "I know... It was just a suggestion." He sighed, picking
up the piece of plastic and turning towards the door. "You don't have to go
through this alone, James. Ms. Jones said you're always welcome to talk to
her."
"She also accused me of killing a child. I think I'll be okay." I spat, and
with that he left the room, the door closing quietly behind him.
I sat there for a moment longer, listening carefully for his footsteps to fade
away, before allowing a single tear to fall down my cheek. Six years I had
suffered for, I can suffer a little longer. I thought as I gritted my teeth.
I stood up again, quickly washing my hair and face, before stepping out into
the cold air and wrapping a towel around my waist. There wasn't much to me, I
was pretty skinny and didn't have much muscle, but I could fight and I knew my
way about a blade. That wasn't enough though, not if I wanted to survive any
longer.
That was the question though. Did I want to survive? Did I want to live and
breath and actually be alive? The final problem in this world. Staying alive.
I looked down at the bruises and the scars, each one a different beating and
each one patched up by Richard. I sighed and ran a hand over the oldest one I
had, a large cut just below my belly button. I had gotten it when I was ten, I
had told my father I was gay, he tried to cut my dick off with a butter knife
but instead my mother convinced him it was "probably just a phase". She was
wrong. But it kept me alive.
I could remember the fear that ran through Richard's eyes as he watched what
happened from the corner, his train set strewn across the floor as he played
happily. That was the day the beatings started. That was the day Richard
learned how to stitch up a wound and tend to bruises.
The next one I saw was on my hip, it was a ciggarette burn. It wasn't too bad
that one, my dad had gotten drunk and it was a genuine accident. The ash tray
was sat between us both and he missed it, plunging the still lit cigarette into
my bare skin. The wound had looked quite bad but thankfully, the only damage
was the burn and a slight scar it had left behind.
I looked over each and every scar, remembering where I had gotten each one,
until I finally came to the one just below my ribs. It wasn't from my dad or
from any bullies, it wasn't even from an accident. It was from Richard.
Thirteen years old and high on drugs, he came home. He was so paranoid he
didn't know who I was or what I was doing as I tried to get him a glass of
water.
There was a knife Pom the breadboard, he dived for it before I even had a
chance to turn around. He swung it left and right, as I slowly backed up into a
corner, watching in fear as my brother threatened to kill me.
Nothing I said was calming him down, not one word could get him to believe it
was me. He just kept swinging it around, almost as though it was a baseball
bat. It all felt surreal after that, the way he ran at me with the silver
dagger, his hands not even trembling as he attempted to plunge the weapon into
my chest. I moved out the way at the last second, causing him to hit the
worktop, almost knocking the blade out of his hands, but he had a tight grip on
it.
I pinned him there, my whole body pressing up against him. "Richard it's me,
it's James. Put the knife down Richard. I'm not going to hurt you." He
continued to panic though, pushing back against me until I finally stepped
away, stumbling slightly as he kicked me back.
He then proceed to spin around, the knife still being held out in front of him.
I didn't realise it at first, but he had managed to cut me, not too deep but
enough to bleed. Adrenaline kicked in after that, I managed to grab the knife,
the silver metal cutting into my skin as I pulled it away from him. "Stop it
Richard. You're not a killer." I snapped, throwing the knife on the ground.
I've never told him about that night, he believes that father attacked me while
he was out. He feels guilty for not being there, and that is definitely better
than him feeling guilty for stabbing me.
I sighed and dryer myself, rubbing the towel over my hair and leaving the room.
I ran to my bedroom, shutting the door quickly and grabbing some clothes. Just
some sweats and a t shirt, my wardrobe not really consisting of much else. It
was four o'clock by this time. I could probably go to sleep but the day isn't
over, so I'll probably get called for another beating soon. Especially if there
was a match on today.
I groaned and pulled my laptop out from under my pillow. I had homework, that
might take my mind off of things. Or at least I hoped it would, but by the time
I had finished the first page of questions it was eight o'clock and I had done
more crying that actual work.
"I brought you something to eat..." Richard spoke up as he entered the room.
His hair was a mess and his clothes a bit disheveled as he stood there. "It's
just some soup, but I figured it would probably help..."
"Thanks, Rich." I told him simply, taking the bowl from his hands and ignoring
the burning sensation it spread across my fingers. "Wanna watch a film with
me?" I asked, dragging the spoon around in the bowl.
Richard nodded with a smile, moving around to sit next to me on the bed, the
laptop separating us. "I really am sorry, James." He spoke again as I searched
through my many films, eventually finding a comedy that I knew we would both
enjoy.
"Never mention it ever again, Rich. Just... Whatever he does to me, ignore it.
I don't want you to be at risk." I instructed him, he nodded reluctantly, his
eyes turning to the screen.
I sat quietly, slowly eating the soup. I didn't watch any of the movie, I just
stared at the screen blankly. My mind couldn't focus and I knew I needed to do
something to keep myself sane.
What am I going to do?
***** Help *****
Chapter Summary
     Jim's first friend. But Jim doesn't be have friends...
Chapter Notes
     Just in case you were wondering, Jim will change his name eventually.
     It all makes sense for the story okay?
Name: James Brook
Age: 15
We had just finished swimming. It was roughly two o'clock in the afternoon and
we had a yearly ritual of going back to the swimming pool where Carl died in
honour of him. It was a rather sick tradition, but I enjoyed it. I looked
forward to it every year. The memory of how he looked engrained inside my head,
but today I didn't want to go.
Today I wanted to just sit on the side, or stay at home. I knew I couldn't do
that though. People would know something was wrong, I never turned up the
opportunity to swim. So I gritted my teeth and took a deep breath.
No one asked questions about the scars. No one ever did. No one cared enough to
ask, and they figured it was from fights. I was careful how I went about my
days, when I was in a lot of pain I would start a fight, get beat and go to the
nurse. They would then believe the bruises were from the fight and the pain as
well. I wasn't stupid. I knew how to lie.
The problem wasn't getting them to believe me though, it was getting them to
not ask questions. I hated answering questions. I hated the way people would
pry into my life and the way they pretended to care. I didn't see the point. I
made my way into the changing room, heading straight for my locker. Everyone
was quickly changing as I fiddled with the combination. 0221 it was simple but
the lock never seemed to register the 0 correctly.
"James! Hey James! Come over here!" One of my fellow classmates called waving
his hand. I rolled my eyes grabbing my clothes and wandering over, taking my
time to show how much I didn't want to acknowledge him.
"What?" I snapped, throwing my bag down on the bench in front of me. The boy
smirked, placing a hand on my shoulder as I began to dry myself off.
"The names Josh. I admire your work. What you did to that boy four years ago.
What was his name? Car-" I slapped my hand across his mouth, my eyes widening.
"Relax I won't tell anyone."
"What do you want?" I sighed, pulling my shirt out of the bag and throwing it
over my head, the material sticking to my skin.
"A little birdy told me you're not exactly the straightest guy around." He
laughed, his eyes lighting up with an idea. I bit back a laugh, hiding the fear
of what he was about to say to me. "I'm sure we can figure something out."
That was the first time I met Josh. That was the first time I ever had a
boyfriend of any kind. It was also the first time I ever felt what true fear
was.
Why did I waste my first kill?
Josh and I waited around a little longer than everyone else. We hid in one of
the private cubicles until the swimming pool opened for the public, the room
now filling with people. "I'm sure we'll be safe now." He joked, pushing me up
against the wall.
I wanted to push him away and run, but I couldn't risk my secret getting out. I
couldn't risk leaving richard alone with our father and I definitely couldn't
risk going to jail.
So I let him do what he wanted with me.
Josh gave me a horrible grin, his perfect white teeth shining as he watched the
fear on my face. "Come on James, don't be shy." He laughed, slowly pulling my
shirt up over my head again. Every scar and bruise on show for him to see. He
didn't question them though, he had other things on his mind.
I felt my heart about to burst through my chest as he took control. The
terrifying look in his eyes as if he was staring at the body of an animal he
had just killed, the feeling of playing God coursing through his vains. It was
the same feeling I had when I had killed Carl.
"Come on James. Still feeling shy? For a kil-" he cut himself off as I
scrambled to remove my swim trunks. I could barely breath as I stood there, my
entire body on display. Josh bit his lip, running his hands down my sides. "So
this is what you've been hiding from everyone." He laughed.
I continued to stare at him, focusing on keeping my breathing fairly regular,
when he began to undo his own pants. Falshbacks to my father appeared in my
mind, and a horrible sick feeling returning. "Turn around." He demanded,
placing his hands on my hips and spinning around. "Is this your first time
James? Am I your first?" He asked. I nodded, choking back tears.
I don't remember what happened next. I remember a lot of pain and a lot of
crying. I don't remember anything other than that, the next I knew I was sat on
the floor of the changing room, tears falling from my eyes. Sobs racked through
my body, each one filled with pain.
I struggled to my feet, every inch of my body shaking. I pulled my clothes on
as quick as I could, throwing my bag on my back and running out of the
cubicle...
***** Silence *****
Chapter Summary
     Can James really go on?
Chapter Notes
     Things are moving pretty slowly, I know. I will start the proper
     story soon. It just makes more sense this way. It is a Mormor fic. I
     will include Sebastian soon, like three more chapters!
Name: James Brook
Age: 15
I stopped talking after that. To Richard, to my father, mother, teachers. The
only person I would speak to was Josh. He kept me around as his 'boyfriend'. No
dates or anything, strictly just sex. We would never speak in school either, I
was to deny having anything to do with him. I wasn't even allowed to say his
name, but I wasn't allowed to show any interest in anyone else either.
That wasn't too hard though. I hated people. I wanted nothing to do with any of
them. I hated everything to do with people, I never wanted to be near them.
Which is why I enjoyed Sunday's so much. Sundays were match day. My father
would meet with his friends and go to the pub, my mother would work in the shop
and Richard would be at his girlfriends. This allowed me to spend time at home,
or at least it did before Josh...
I now spent Sunday's awaiting the three knocks on the door. The scurrying up
the stairs to my bedroom. The key in the lock, and the falling onto the bed.
The sloppy kisses that meant nothing. The clothes lying on the floor and the
pathetic attempts of foreplay.
There was never any condoms. Never any lube. Just pain. Pain and nothing else.
No moans of pleasure, or cries of pain. No enjoyment.
Nothing.
This was one of those days. As I knelt on the bed, my face buried into one of
the many pillows, muffled whines as Josh moved his hips slowly. I had taken too
long to answer the door and therefore he demanded punishment. The slower he
went the more painful it felt, and he knew this. The pauses in between each
thrust causing a ripping sensation. Almost as though he was stitching me back
together only to rip me apart again.
Tears continued to fall, and I could feel his hand gripping onto my hair, each
thrust matched with a tug. His other hand was used to drag his nails down my
skin, large red lines being left behind in their place. He would repeat this
process until the skin tore apart, the crimson red liquid bubbling up across
the patches of skin, contradicting to my usual pale complexion.
Josh slowly began to speed up, his hips moving in a more frantic motion. This
was only the first time we had done this today though, and there would probably
be more to come. "Don't you dare come, James." He demanded, his breathing more
sparse as he came close, his body tensing.
"I-I won't." I mumbled, lifting my head just enough to be heard. Josh dug his
nails in further, pulling my head back.
"You won't what?" He demanded, "Who am I?"
"I-I won't... Daddy." I cried out, he laughed, throwing my head down again and
thrusting into me a few more times before pulling out, the horrible white
liquid landing on my back before Josh collapsed down on the bed.
"I've gotta go, mum's birthday. I'll see you tomorrow." He told me, jumping up
from the bed. I nodded, falling down onto my side and watching as he ran out of
the room, fumbling with the lock for a moment. I groaned pulling the blanket
around me.
There was not point in getting cleaned up, I never felt clean anymore, no
matter how many showers I got. I would still be left feeling dirty. It felt
like the dirt was inside of me. Instead of blood and oxygen it was mud and
glass. A constant pain burning through my vain's.
Daddy. The word repeated itself in my brain. The horrible pet name he had told
me to call him. The power and the fear one word had. The way it made me feel
sick to my stomach and shake with fear. Daddy. Almost as if he was rubbing it
in my face that he had all the power.
Richard returned home early that day, finding me curled up in my bed, face red
and puffy from crying. He didn't say anything, his eyes telling me all I needed
to know. He slowly helped me to sit up, the pain coursing through my body
causing me to flinch and wince at every little movement.
"You're going to have to tell someone eventually." He spoke. Richard knew
nothing of Josh, he was a ghost to him. He thought the pain was simply from my
father, he figured things were getting worse, and I wanted it to stay that way.
Never telling Richard the truth about fucked up his brother is. How his brother
had killed a boy and was now being blackmailed into having sex with a boy he
knew nothing about.
Richard didn't deserve to witness any of this. He deserved a happy life, a life
without worry or fear or having to take care of anyone, and maybe he would get
that if it weren't for me.
James Brook the man who was broken and only held together by the fear of
loosing his brother. "Let's get you cleaned up, you look awful." Richard spoke
up breaking me from my thoughts, and shoving a dressing gown into my lap. "Grab
some clothes, I'll run the bath."
"Thank you..." I choked out as I walked into the bathroom, the whole room full
of steam and helping me to relax to some extent. I was safe with Richard, I
knew that. He wasn't going to hurt me, yet I couldn't stop my heart from
racing, the constant flinches when he got too close and the horrible feeling in
my stomach again.
"It's okay." He eventually spoke up, noticing how uncomfortable I felt. I
pulled the house coat further around my body, my back pressed firmly against
the wall and eyes never leaving him, watching his every move. "I'll be right
outside if you need anything." He whispered after a few more minutes, turning
the taps off and stalking out of the room.
I panicked turning to grab his wrist, pulling him towards me, my body now
running on auto pilot. Richard looked up at me with hope filled eyes, a small
smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Don't leave me alone..." I pleaded.
"Okay. I'll sit right over here." He told me, walking over to the corner,
sitting with his back to me. I took a deep breath shrugging off the dressing
gown and placing the clothes on the toilet seat. "It'll be okay eventually...
Won't it James?" Richard asked. I didn't reply. I couldn't bring myself to lie
to him.
***** Sherrinford *****
Chapter Summary
     When James meets the Holmes' eldest brother, he learns that not all
     people are bad.
Chapter Notes
     James and Sherrinford are just friends, I'm not going to write them
     into a relationship or anything. Sherrinford is straight. I swear.
Name: James Brook
Age: 15
Josh came around the corner, his jacket pulled tight and hood pulled over his
head. He didn't seem too bothered, not really caring that I was there, only
caring about what he was going to get. His eyes glassing over with the familiar
look of power. "I brought a friend, you're going to do exactly as he says."
Josh laughed.
I nodded, my eyes focuses solely on the floor, when Josh's friend appeared. I
could tell he was a jock, his long fairly toned legs giving it away. "This is
James. He's all yours tonight, but I want him back in exactly the same
condition." Josh spoke like I was nothing more than a piece of furniture.
"James you do exactly as he tells you. No questions asked." He smirked.
I nodded again, watching as the jock moved closer. "The names Sherrinford.
Sherrinford Holmes." He spoke once Josh had disappeared. I looked up at him, a
smile on his face. "Come on, do you like ice cream?" He asked. I felt my heart
skip, fear suddenly disappearing and being replaced with confusion.
"W...what?" I stuttered. The jock, Sherrinford, ran a hand through his hair
staring at me with bright blue eyes.
"Do you like ice cream?" He repeated. I nodded my head, still confused to
what's going on. "Great, come on. I'm paying."
I followed the taller boy through the streets and into the town centre, neither
of us saying anything as we walked. I looked him up and down, wondering why
Josh had left me with him, and why he would even want to be around me. "Come on
James, the shops only around the corner now." He smiled, his teeth showing
slightly and eyes scrunching up. "You don't have to be so nervous. I'm not
going to hurt you."
"Sorry..." I mumbled, tugging on my sleeve and trying to catch up with him.
"You don't talk much do you?" He asked, to which I only shook my head. "That's
fine, I can probably talk enough for both of us anyway. Come on, right in
here." He smiled, holding the door open to a small cafe. I looked between him
and the door a few times, assessing my situation and deciding finally that it
was safe to enter, my eyes scanning around the room and watching as people went
about their business.
Sherrinford led us to the counter, the many boxes of ice cream out on display
behind some glass, each one brightly coloured. "What would you like?" He asked,
looking down at me, his bright eyes shining slightly. I shrugged, and looked
around the room, the feeling that this was all a joke overcoming me and
swallowing me whole. "How about we both get two different flavours and we
share?"
"S...sure..." I choked out finally. Sherrinford grinned again, giving our order
to the woman behind the counter, before turning back to me, two bowls in hand.
"Come on, I like sitting in the corner, you can watch all the people outside
and they can't see you." He laughed. I followed behind closely, before slipping
into the booth, an uncomfortable silence falling over us both. Sherrinford
cleared his throat, and extended his hand holding a spoon out for me. "I know
this is probably really weird. Josh told me about what he was..." He trailed
off, my body visibly tensing and eyes glassing over with tears. "Sorry." He
whispered, pushing a bowl of chocolate and vanilla ice cream towards me.
"It's okay..." I told him, breaking a small amount off and staring at it. "I'm
used to it." Sherrinford looked down at the bowls in front of us, a look of
sadness flashing across his face.
"He shouldn't be doing this, James. You don't deserve it. You deserve better.
That's sort of why I made the bet with him. I wanted to talk to you, try and
help you." He told me. I shrugged again, eating the now melted ice cream, not
daring to look up at him. "We could go to the police if you wanted? I can back
you up."
"No, I don't want that. Josh has something much worse to use against me. I can
deal with it myself." I told him, neither of us believing a word I said.
Sherrinford just nodded, dropping the subject and swapping our bowls.
"You don't have to be nervous James. I'm not going to hurt you. We're just two
friends, eating ice cream." I shrugged and continued to eat small amounts of
the flavoured ice. "So what do you like to do?" He asked, hoping to ease some
of the tension.
"I don't know..." I admitted, only one idea coming to mind, but knowing I
couldn't tell him that. Sherrinford furrowed his eyebrows, resting his chin on
his left hand and continuing to eat.
"You don't have many friends do you?" He asked giving up on the small talk. I
shook my head tapping out a simple rhythm on the table with my right hand, a
nervous habit I'd acquired over time. "Any siblings?"
"Just one. Richard. My twin." I told him, Sherrinford nodded. The silence took
over again.
"I've got two brothers, both younger than me. Mycroft and William. Mycroft's
about your age, maybe a year younger." He spoke, not really caring, just trying
to continue the conversation. "Josh tells me you're in his swim cla-" I cut him
off, frantically shaking my head to get the thought to disappear, the horrible
memories of what had happened the last time I was there flashing through my
mind.
"Shit, sorry, I forgot!" He panicked, placing his hand on my shoulder. "It's
okay James, I won't mention it again." He cooed, his eyes scanning my face for
any sign of recognition of what he was saying. I took a few deep breaths, my
heart slowly returning to normal. "I'm sorry. Let's finish these up and then we
can go for a walk if you want? You don't have to, I just thought it might help
you relax."
I gave a small smile, Sherrinford breathing a sigh of relief before we finished
eating in silence.
•••
Sherrinford led the way again, slowly walking beside me this time, his hands
swaying at his side. "So you and Richard then, are you close?" He asked after a
little while. I nodded and gave a small smile. "I wish I was close to my
brother, he's a bit... Reclusive though. Keeps to himself a lot and the other
ones only eight, and he thinks he's a pirate." Sherrinford laughed, his lips
turning up into a smile.
"It's not that great. Richard's awfully annoying." Sherrinford nodded and
smiled, listening to each word I said. "He's obsessed with staying healthy and
he insists I do it with him, I can't even a simple piece of cake without him
telling me how fattening it is."
"I'm glad my brothers aren't like that. I eat like a pig. But I work out a
lot..." He shrugged, looking back down at his own body. "You shouldn't worry
though, you're pretty thin, you look like you'd break if the wind picked up."
"I'm just naturally thin." I shrugged, slowly starting to relax around the
taller man.
"Here we are." He grinned turning the corner into a park. "I love walking
through here, it's peaceful." Sherrinford grabbed my wrist, pulling me through
the gate and towards the swings. My breathing sped up for a moment, panic
setting in at the sudden contact and my body tensing, before slowly relaxing at
the realisation of what he was doing.
"You know, this is a place for children." I laughed, taking a seat and pushing
myself forward. Sherrinford shook his head, sitting beside me. It was pretty
late and so there wasn't any children around, which I was quite thankful about.
"Maybe I am a child." He joked, raising an eyebrow and leaning back slightly.
"You're just jealous because I'm going higher than you."
I rolled my eyes, pushing myself more and gaining more height, both of us
trying to get higher than the other. "Okay, I feel like I'm about throw up
strawberry ice cream..." I laughed after a few minutes, scraping my feet across
the floor to stop the swing. Sherrinford laughed, allowing himself to slowly
get lower and lower until he came to a stop.
"Are you okay?" He asked, looking over to me, my skin slightly paler. I nodded
and gave him a smile. "You're pretty cool you know, James."
"Th-Thanks..." I mumbled. Sherrinford grinned. "Youre not too bad yourself,
Sherrinford. What kind of a name is Sherrinford? I've never even heard of it."
I asked him.
"What kind of a name is James Brook? So ordinary." I laughed and shook my head.
"My mother had a friend called Sherrinford once, he died unfortunately in a car
accident." He shrugged. "Personally I just go by my last name, Holmes, it's
easier for people to remember."
"I think Sherrinford's a lot better than Holmes. Holmes is too boring." The
taller man laughed, and stood up, walking behind me.
"Hold tight."
•••
I walked home alone, Sherrinford had offered but I knew my father would not be
happy. We had exchanged phone numbers though and I couldn't help but feel happy
about finally having a friend. Even if it was just a trick...
I got home a few minutes after nine, the house surrounded in darkness. I didn't
bother lingering in the doorway, quickly running up the stairs two at a time,
and straight into my bedroom.
I shut the door carefully, hoping no one had heard me coming into the house.
Richard was probably already asleep and I figured my father was at the bar,
meaning he would be home late.
I groaned lying down on the bed and pinching the bridge of my nose. How did
this become my life? Being loaned out to people and used for sex. I sighed,
pulling out my phone and setting an alarm for the next morning when a text from
Sherrinford appeared on the screen.
/'09:23 Hey, it's Sherrinford. I just wanted to say thanks for today. I had a
nice time. It's nice having a friend who doesn't use me for popularity. -SH'/
/'09:27 Its okay, but it should be me thanking you. I've been thinking about
the whole Josh situation... I figured it was probably time to do something
about it. -James'/
/'09:31 That's great, James, I'll support you no matter what. -SH'/
/'09:34 Thanks, I'm going to sleep. Good night. -James'/
/'09:35 Good night, James. -SH'/
***** Friendship *****
Chapter Summary
     Ever wonder why James is so obsessed with the Holmes'? Read...
Chapter Notes
     THE SIX THATCHERS WAS SO GOOD! If you go to @JimMoriartyxo on twitter
     you will find my reactions to the whole episode <3 Hope you enjoy
     this rather dark chapter!
Name: James Brook
Age: 15
I did try to sleep that night, but the horrible silence flowing through the
house made me nervous. The lights from cars going past creating horrifying
shadows on the walls, the sound of people walking down the road sending shivers
down my spine, the dogs and cats rummaging through the bins causing panic to
flow through my veins'.
My father still hadn't come home and I was growing more and more nervous as
time passed. Before I knew it, it was three o'clock in the morning and the
sound of a key in a lock echoed through out the house. My body began to shake,
and goosebumps rose from my skin, a chill running down my back.
I reached for my phone, the light blinding as I unlocked it searching for
Richards phone number. '03:11 Headphones. -James.' I typed out, throwing the
phone under the bed and waiting. Footsteps climbed the stairs, heavy, booming
footsteps. Time seemed to be running in slow motion, the ticking of the clock
almost coming to a halt as I sat there, my eyes focused solely on the door
knob.
The room seemed to grow cold, and I imagined I could see my breath, puffs of
white smoke floating in front of my face. "James..." My father slurred, his
drunken state causing his voice to sound like something from a horror film.
"You worthless piece of shit." He spat, throwing the door open and stumbling
into the room.
Light poured in from the hallway, my eyes slowly adjusting and the silhouette
of my father stood before me. I swallowed the lump in my throat, the familiar
sick feeling filling my stomach.
My father looked down at me, everything about him reminded me of Josh, right
down to the sinister look in his eyes. This wasn't going to be fun. But then
again, nothing including my father ever was...
He fell onto the bed, a loud thud emitting from the sudden contact and his body
weight causing pain to shoot through my leg. He scrambled to get up, pulling me
down by my ankles, causing the pain in my leg to grow worse. There wasn't much
time to pay attention to the pain though, within seconds my sweats were being
pulled down to my knees and my boxer shorts following suit. "Let's see how good
you really are." He laughed, his voice bellowing and probably loud enough to
wake the neighbours.
My breath hitched and he flipped me over, moving across the bed so he was
kneeling behind me. I bit down on the pillow so hard it felt my teeth were
going to break. "This will only hurt a little." With that he shoved his finger
into my hole, moving it in and out as fast as he could, the pain shooting
through my body and causing me to flinch, which only made him laugh.
He didn't wait long before adding a second, and soon a third. Tears fell down
my cheeks and spilled onto the pillow. "We're gonna have a lot of fun." Those
seven words hung in the air, a silent threat now lingering. My father continued
to work his fingers though, each thrust hurting more than the last.
Finally he pulled out, a mere ten seconds of freedom, ten seconds were the pain
subsided even just slightly, before my body grew weak. Shock started to set in
and I could feel the heat from my body starting to dissipate. I could feel his
cock as he positioned it at my entrance, a cold wet feeling covering it.
Everything stopped at that point, my mind going silent for the first time in so
long, the pain becoming so overwhelming.
I couldn't stop shaking under his touch, black spots appearing in my vision. I
tried to think of anything to distract myself but I was stuck in this horrible
scenario. I shut my eyes tight, the sound of skin connecting with each and
every thrust, ringing in my ears.
My father gripped my hair tightly in his fist, pulling my head back and forcing
me to watch everything he did in the reflection of the window. The hate filled
look on his face as he thrust into me again, sending my body forward, only to
cause more pain as he pulled my head back farther.
I watched each and every movement, Josh's face flashing in front of my eyes
every time I would blink. I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry out for help, to
disappear.
Twenty minutes. Twenty agonising minutes. Finally he pulled out and left the
room. Tears fell freely down my face, every inch of my being feeling dirty and
violated...
I finally fell asleep two hours later.
•••
I awoke the next morning to the sound of a phone ringing, a cold sweat covering
my skin. I reached out, feeling around on the floor for my phone, finally
finding it and hitting the answer button. "Hello..." I mumbled, my voice
cracking half way.
"James? Hey, it's Sherrinford. I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out?"
He asked, when I received a text. I raised an eyebrow holding the phone in
front of me. 'Say yes. It will stop Josh asking you later. -SH'
"Yeah, sure." I rushed out, flinching as I attempted to sit up.
"Great, I'll meet you at the entrance to the park, where I left you last
night." He told me. I couldn't help but grin, feeling relieved that I had a
reason to leave my house today.
"Great. I'll see you in an hour!" I announced, hanging up the phone and slowly
attempting to stand up. I grabbed a pair of sweats as usual, and a shirt that
was two sizes too big, before making my way to the bathroom.
"James?" Richard spoke up from his bedroom. I jumped at the sudden noise, fear
and paranoia suddenly kicking in and wrapping it's self around me. "What...
What happened to you?" He asked.
I raised an eyebrow quickly walking into the bathroom and standing in front of
the full length mirror. My lip was split and dried blood trailed down my skin.
I had large red hand prints covering my back and chest from being thrown
around, my hair a mess and sticking up. Dry cum was covering my lower back and
a horrible amount of nail marks trailed down my spine, along with some healing
cuts from where Josh had tore the skin apart.
This was the first time I had seen how bad I looked. This was the first time
Richard had witnessed how bad things had gotten. Large purple bruises blending
with bright red cuts. Pale skin barely visible through the horrible patches.
"What the fuck is going on James? This is more than just dad. What the fuck
aren't you telling me?" He demanded, his eyes scanning over every inch of my
body on show, bruises forming around my ankles and a dull ache in my leg, my
eyes bloodshot and red.
"Nothing, Richard. Forget about it. Just go back to bed. I'm going out for a
bit, so don't stay at home too long." I told him, ushering him out of the room
and locking the door.
I took a deep breath, staring at the shower, mentally preparing myself for the
burning sensation that I was about to endure. "Here goes nothing..."
•••
Sherrinford was leaning against the mental railings, his dark curly hair
blowing in front of his face and his bright blue eyes shining in the early
morning sun. "Hey." He grinned, holding his arms out, before cautiously
wrapping them around my thin frame.
"Hi..." I choked out, as he pulled away, forcing myself to smile. I didn't look
up at him, hiding behind my hair that had gotten way too long over the last few
months. I didn't want to cut it though, cutting it meant I couldn't hide behind
it anymore.
Sherrinford began to walk, leading the way through the park, his arms crossed
over his chest. "So what would you like to do?" He asked after a few moments of
silence. I shrugged and picked a few leaves from a bush we were passing, slowly
ripping them apart, my hands still shaking from the previous night.
"I don't know... I don't really know what there is to do. I don't get out
much." I admitted, throwing the ripped up leaves to the ground and grabbing
another handful to destroy. Sherrinford watched intensely his eyes dancing as
he followed my fingers across each leaf, a few pieces falling before I could
catch them.
"Well... There's a really nice pond over this way, there's usually ducks
there." He smiled, leading the way, finally tearing his gaze away. "Did you
really mean what you said last night, you were going to do something about..."
He trailed off, figuring I would know what he meant.
"Yeah. It's about time things ended." I told him with a smirk. I knew exactly
what I was going to do. I knew he wouldn't like it though. "I'm not going to
the police though." I told him when I saw his mouth open, as though he was
going to say something.
Sherrinford closed his mouth again, furrowing his eyebrows and tilting his head
to the side. "What're you going to do then?"
"You'll see." I grinned, sitting down on the grass and staring out at the pond.
"So why do you wear sweats all the time? Surely you've got jeans or something?"
He asked after a few minutes of silence.
"You really can't just enjoy the quiet can you?" I joked. Sherrinford shrugged,
lying back on the grass and staring at the sky, his head resting on his arms.
"They don't press on any of my bruises or cuts." I told him. This peaked his
interest I suppose as he sat back up.
"What do you mean?"
"I have a lot of cuts and bruises. You know Josh causes a lot of... The sweats
are just to make sure I don't cause myself any more pain." I shrugged.
Sherrinford continued to stare, his eyes making their way up and down my body,
examining every inch of me.
"You're lying. It's not just Josh is it?" He said bluntly, his arms crossing
over his chest again. "Tell me the truth James. I'm not going to hurt you.
You've been in pain since we met up, your walking slightly weirdly and I know
you haven't seen Josh since he left us yesterday. You havn't looked at me once
since you got here and I can tell there's something you're hiding from me, and
it isn't just a secret. It isn't your brother because you spoke fondly of him
yesterday and I could see you smile when you mentioned his name, not a forced
smile either.
"Your hairs a bit of a mess, could be from a shower this morning, but it's
still a little greasy meaning you haven't washed it, so I'm surmising it's from
something else, you winced every time you took a step I figured it was your leg
to begin with but then I saw how you struggled to sit down and you're now
leaning slightly forwards on your legs to not cause discomfort. Care for me to
go on, or are you going to tell the truth?"
I looked at him with wide eyes, my jaw practically hitting the floor. "I...
I... You..." I stumbled over each of my words, unsure of what to say and
struggling to form a coherent sentence as I stared at him.
"Please James, just tell me the truth." He pleaded, and so I did. I told him
everything. I told him how I killed Carl Powers, how my father would beat me,
the way Richard was always his favourite, how my mother never cared and thinks
of me as a disappointment, how I don't eat and I struggle to put on weight from
always being sick due to fear. I told him how the sexual abuse started with my
father and how Josh eventually joined in, how Richard knew nothing about Josh
nor how bad things were getting at home. And he listened. He hung onto every
word, his eyes softening and arms wrapping around my shoulders once I was done,
as he wiped away the tears on my face and rocked us both back and forth.
"It's okay, James. I'm here for you. It's going to be okay." He whispered,
rubbing my back. I pulled away, a slight hiccup escaping my lips. "So what're
you going to do about everything?"
"I'm going to kill them." I told him, my face turning to stone and anger
boiling up in the pit of my stomach. "I'm going kill them slowly, and painfully
and they're going to feel every bit of it." I laughed this time, and I could
see the fear in Sherrinford's eyes, an uncomfortable silence growing between
us.
"So you really did kill that, Powers kid?" He asked allowing everything to sink
in. I nodded, a cynical grin playing on my lips as I thought back to it, how it
felt to play God, to have something life be in your hands. The way his body
floated on the water and the panicked look in his eyes as he begged me to help
him. The way his limbs went from moving frantically in a panic to stiff and
lifeless, how his body drained of all colour and the look of acceptance on his
face. "How?" Sherrinford asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Botulinum." I told him simply. He nodded, an uneasy feeling settling over him,
as he shifted under my gaze. "You should've seen the way he looked at me, his
eyes filling with fear and resentment when he realised what I had done." I
laughed again.
"Oh... erm..." Sherrinford struggled to find something to say. For someone who
never shut up he sure was quiet now, that was until the police began to
surround us.
Their large jackets hanging on their shoulders and their uniforms making them
look twice as big. I looked around quickly assessing my situation, before
looking back at the jock. "You tricked me." I said simply. He nodded, slowly
moving away from me and towards the officers around us.
I dove forward, my body slamming against his and grabbing his shirt, feeling
the wire below it. I worked my hand under his shirt, grabbing the device, my
hands working quickly to remove the tape and throwing it on the ground. "It's
for your own good James." He panicked. My grip tightened on his shirt, as I
threw my foot down, smashing the tape into many tiny pieces.
"Get fucked!" I screamed, throwing him back, before an officer had the chance
to get his hands on me. "You'll pay for this, Sherrinford Holmes. You will
fucking pay!" I screamed as they dragged me away, their hands gripping tightly
to my arms and legs, each digit digging into another bruise or a cut.
What have I done?
***** Prison *****
Chapter Summary
     James, the worlds first consulting criminal.
Chapter Notes
     Please leave comments guys, I'd love to hear your feedback and if you
     have any idea's on where this could be going, also leave your
     thoughts on the Six Thatchers episode? RIP Mary Morstan.
Name: James Brook
Age: 16
It was three months before I got out. Richard would visit every week, new
information about my case being the only thing we spoke about. The crime ring I
had began to build within the walls of my prison slowly starting to fit
together.
Richard didn't like it, he hated crime, but he knew that this was the only way
I would get out. We hid the shoes within a plastic bag, buried in a random
neighbours garden. The poison was thrown into the Thames, completely destroying
it and all evidence to link it back to us. I had a guy make sure all copies of
my 'confession' were destroyed, and I had the jury rigged by another.
I smirked to myself as I sat down in front of Richard in the cafe. "I can't
believe you pulled that off!" He said, possibly a little too loud. I just
shrugged and gave a wink, picking up the fork beside my plate.
"It's not over yet, Richy. I still have more to do." I told him, taking a bite
of the steak I had ordered. Richard raised an eyebrow to this though, sipping
away on his coffee. "I have to take care of a few things. I had to make trades
in the prison Richard, I get something then they get something. I have a empire
to start up, a world of crime at my finger tips."
Richard shifted in his seat, a look of fear passing across his face, the kind
of fear I only ever saw when he witnessed my father and I... My father. That's
the first person that needs to go.
I stretched my back out, finishing up my food and taking my phone out of my
pocket. '01:32 Warehouse by four. I have a job for you, in exchange I'll find
someone to take your brother's case.' I typed into my phone, and looked up at
Richard.
"We're going out tonight, I just have to meet someone first." I smiled, as
Richard gave me a pleading look, almost as though he knew what I was going to
do. "There's things you don't know Richard, that you never need to know. Just
trust me that I know what I'm doing."
Richard curled his fingers around the mug in front of him, his eyes watching me
carefully. "You've only just got out James, you can't really be trying to get
back in?" He laughed nervously, the silence falling around us as a silent
answer.
"Five o'clock at the Hounds." I mumbled, and with that I slipped out of the
room.
•••
"Good after noon." I spoke confidently, feigeing power. The man laughed, his
large muscular silhouette slowly walking towards me, his arms swinging loosely
at his sides. "So you're Mr. Moran?"
"Yeah. So you're Smith? You're jus' a kid! I was expectin' a man." He laughed
again, to which I only shrugged. "I should've guessed, only a kid could've come
up wi' a name like Smith for a 'it."
"Well I only got out this morning, I didn't have much time to think up a good
alias." I reasoned, gritting my teeth. Moran stopped laughing and straightened
up, as I jumped down from the box I was sitting on. "So your brother, what's he
in for?"
"Second degree murder. He was framed though. Police won't listen, his two sons
left to fend for themselves in a half way house." He complained. I rolled my
eyes and moved forward looking him up and down.
"I need you to kill this man. Make it look like an accident, he's a drunk and a
child abuser but he'll never go to trial. I need it done by tonight, after five
o'clock. You'll find all the details on the back of the photograph. Your
brother will be released by Friday." I told him handing over a photograph of my
father.
"Right. I'll have it done. Jus' remember to use something other than Smith next
time." He nodded, turning around to leave. "Try somethin' unusual, a latin name
maybe?"
"Thanks." I told him, his footsteps growing quieter. "Your brother's sons?
What's their names?"
Moran stopped, not turning around to look at me, just staring ahead at the
wall. "John Sebastian, and Severin Moran. I'll see you around Smith." He
laughed, and with that the man left the room, the door shutting behind him and
the darkened room being the only thing comforting me.
•••
"Hey!" Richard cheered, slightly drunk already, when I arrived at the bar. I
grinned, waving at him and crossing the room. He had a few of his friends sat
around the table with him and a pretty red head on his arm.
"Hey, Richy." I sat down next to a rather thin guy, his bright green eyes
staring up at my brother. "Hey everyone." I mumbled, my eyes scanning across
them all, their small 'hello's being passed around before they went back to
their conversations.
"Names Charlie, you must be James." The boy next to me spoke up, holding his
hand out to shake. I nodded giving him a small smile and shaking his hand.
"That would be me." I told him, hoping that I could make it through the night
with my brother's friends. I needed a believeable alibi, and what better than a
crowded pub with friends?
I drank as much as I could to still be in control, everyone laughing and joking
as I sat back and watched. "Come on James! You've gotta sing with me!" Richard
laughed, pulling on my sleeve. I rolled my eyes and stood up, following him
towards the karaoke machine, both of us tripping over ourselves. "Let's do the
Lion King!" He laughed, thrusting a microphone into my hands.
"Fine, let's just get this over with." I laughed, and the music started up.
"I'm gonna be a mighty king, so enemies beware!" I sang into the microphone, as
Richard danced around me, shoving a plastic crown on my head.
"Well I've never seen a king of beasts, with quite so little hair!" He laughed,
his words slurring into each other, slinging his arm around my shoulder.
"I'm gonna be the mane event, like no king was before! I'm brushing up on
looking down, I'm working on my roar!" I laughed, each of Richard's friends now
pulling their camera's out and dancing along with us. "Oh I just can't wait to
be king!"
•••
The rest of the night went along uneventfully, more drinking, more laughing,
more joking. That was until a familiar blond walked into the pub, his face as
cold as stone as he looked over at me, a simple nod being all I needed.
The job was done.
I pulled out my phone, sending a simple text out to everyone I knew. '12:32
Moran. I want him out by Friday. Second degree murder- framed.' Richard raised
an eyebrow as I stood up, watching as I walked towards the man. "Friday." I
whispered, and with that I left the pub, heading home.
***** Moriarty *****
Chapter Summary
     "What are you looking for?"
     "A good alias, something that sounds cool."
     "In a Latin dictionary?"
     "What else?"
Chapter Notes
     There are a lot of trigger warnings ^ up there ^ and I know this
     story is pretty... dark? I just want to apologise again for how it's
     going. Once again though; stop reading IMMEDIATELY if you start to
     feel sick/disturbed/scared/anything that isn't normal. You can
     comment/message my twitter (@JimMoriartyx) to complain/suggest
     anything for this story.
     This story will only get worse so if you're already uncomfortable
     don't continue. However I will break up the really bad stuff between
     some fairly 'fluffy' or just general stuff.
     There will also be Richard x Severin in this book, maybe Johnlock? I
     haven't quite decided on that yet.
     Leave comments and kudos! <3
Name: James Brook
Age: 16
I continued to flip through the book. I had taken Moran's advice and decided to
look for a good alias to keep. I had several fake ID's already from earlier in
life, when I would buy my father's drinks.
This had to be something good, something that sounded powerful and sexy.
Something that was easy to remember and yet sounded complicated. "Mori art ti?"
I mumbled, flipping through the book again, when Richard walked into the room.
"Still no news about dad... You haven't heard anything have you?" He
questioned, genuine concern filling his voice. I shook my head, still reading
my book and ignoring him as he paced around the room. "Mother's worried..." He
mumbled, sitting on the edge of my bed. "I know you didn't like him, James...
Please just tell me what you have done to him." Richard pleaded.
I shrugged as my phone sounded alerting me to a notification. 'Sherrinford
Holmes sent a text.' Nevermind.
"What are you looking for?" Richard asked eventually, dropping the previous
subject, and watching as I flicked through the pages for the millionth time.
"A good alias, something that sounds cool." I scribbled down another name,
'Abaddon', it wasn't even Latin...
"In a Latin dictionary?"
"What else?" I joked, turning around in my chair. "What do you think of
Moriarty?"
"Isn't that three words?" He argued, I rolled my eyes and threw the book over
my shoulder, landing on the desk with a bang.
"No, spell it slightly differently, still the same meaning but now it's a
name." I grinned. Richard sighed and shrugged, pulling out a card. "What's
that?"
"Guy came looking for you this morning, or at least I'm summising you're Smith.
Real imaginitive by the way." He laughed, "Anyways he left this for you, said
to give him a call." He extended his hand, the plain white card pinched between
his thumb and index finger.
'Theodore Moran' I spun around again, picking up my phone and dialing the
number on the card. "Smith?"
"Hello, if you're alone continue talking, if not make up an excuse and leave
the room, preferably somewhere inside, I hate the sound of wind in a
microphone." I informed him, a habit I had gotten into from prison.
"I'm alone, other than my grandson John. I figured I should inform you of our
situation." Theodore spoke quietly, his voice strong like it had been the night
before. "My brother has been hospitalised, no longer able to give evidence at
the trial."
I pinched the bridge of my nose, thoughts swirling around my head as I tried to
remember what I had read about law. "Okay. Get me any information you can about
his condition and what happened, I'll get to work, I'll try and get a plea
deal."
I threw the phone on the bed beside Richard, just narrowly missing his head and
leaned back in my chair. "Whatever you've done James, fix it."
"I can't do that, Rich. It's for the best. I can't go back to doing... I can't
deal with what he put me through anymore. There's things you don't know Richy,
things you'll never know." I told him simply, refusing to look at him, refusing
to see the look of pain on his face. "Come on, I'm hungry!"
•••
"Just listen to me, I need Moran out by Friday, but now he's in the hospital
wing. I don't have time for you to loose documents, you have one hour and I
want three plea bargains ready." I groaned, hanging up the phone and pacing the
room. How idiotic can people be?
It was almost midnight and I could feel my eyes getting heavy, sleep weighing
in. "Rich!" I called out, grabbing my notebook and leaving my bedroom, coming
face to face with my mother. I stumbled backwards, my eyes going wide as I saw
the state she was in. "H-Hi ma."
"Which one are you?" She questioned, her eyes red and full of tears, dirty
blond hair matted and knotted. I sighed and rolled my eyes.
"James." I told her through gritted teeth. My mother wasn't good at tell Rich
and I apart, but she never really spent much time at home anyways, three jobs
didn't really leave much free time.
"Right. What do you want?" And she didn't like me either.
"Nothing from you. Where's Richard?" She shrugged, her hair slipping over her
shoulder. "Well thanks for all your help. I'll see you in another eight years.
You know I was in prison last week! You could've visited or something!" I
called after her. It was petty, I know, but that's how I am.
Richard was in the kitchen, his body shaking as he leaned against the sink.
"Who's Josh?" He mumbled as I entered the room. I froze in place, my breath
hitching in the back of my throat. "James, tell me. Who the fuck is Josh?!" He
screamed, balling his hand up into a fist and slamming it down on the counter.
I flinched, my body shaking under the sudden loud noises. "James I need an
answer, this is important." I stayed silent though. I couldn't speak, my body
completely shutting down as flashbacks appeared in front of me.
"Gay? You're fucking gay? I will not have a faggot in my house!" My dad
screamed, his face appearing before my eyes, his anger raidiating through the
room. In that moment I became a ten year old child again. The fear I felt when
he tried to attack me, pulling the silver metal from the drawer and lunging
forwards, his hands gripping my wrist as tight as possible and pulling me
towards him.
I fell to my knees, my arms in front of my face and a horrifying scream
escaping my lips. "I'm sorry..." I cried out, as the halloucination faded, my
surroundings slowly coming back to me.
"It's okay, James. I'm right here. I didn't mean to shout, I'm sorry, I just
need to know who he is." Richard held me in his arms, rocking back and forth.
"Please James, just tell me who he is."
I took a few deep breaths calming myself before finally resting against the
wall behind me. "He was in my swim class... He found out about what I did to
Carl." I started. Richard nodded his head and stayed silent waiting until I was
ready to talk. I took another calming breath, closing my eyes and silencing
everything around me. "He... He blackmailed me into... Into sex to keep his
mouth shut."
"James why didn't you-"
"He then told this jock a year above us. Sherrinford Holmes. He 'loaned' me out
to him and we went and got ice cream and walked around for a while. He was the
snitch to got my confession, the reason I was in prison." Richard gave me a
sympathetic look, his eyes softening.
"James you need to stop keeping secrets from me. I can help you." He smiled.
"Josh came around while you were on the phone, told me to give you a message.
Sunday." I stiffened again, my mind growing silent.
"I've gotta work. I'll see you in the morning." I muttered rising to my feet
and scramling to pick up my notebook. "Good night, Richard."
•••
I finally checked Sherrinford's message at three in the morning.
'10:45 I'll make sure you get what you deserve. Watch you back James. -SH'
***** Bruises *****
Chapter Summary
     James is slowly working his way up the food chain. How much can
     Richard handle though?
Chapter Notes
     Okay I know I promised Sebastian but this is going a slightly
     different direction than I originally planned, which is actually so
     much better than the original idea!
     Mentions of drugs within the next few chapters, I kind of forgot to
     add that to the tags ^ above ^ I will change that now, so if you're
     reading this and it's already there well ignore this whole paragraph.
     Also James will be changing his name to Jim soon, we're taking it one
     step at a time, we'll also be bringing Sherrinford into the story
     soon! Probably the next chapter probably not. What ever did happen to
     him? Five days til we find out!
     LEAVE COMMENTS AND KUDOS I CAN'T SAY THIS ENOUGH I JUST LOVE HEARING
     WHAT YOU GUYS THINK. I love you all!
Name: James Moriarty
Age 16
This isn't how you should live your life. Constantly in fear and constantly
fighting through hallucination after hallucination. James Moriarty the only
criminal in the world that still cried himself to sleep.
I woke up early the next morning to my phone ringing, groaning at the sound and
the fact I had to work. "Hello?" I spoke into the microphone my eyes still shut
and face just barely above the pillow.
"James, you' done it! I can't thank you enough for this." The familiar voice of
Theodore Moran rang through my ears. "I didn't think a kid like you was capable
of this, but you've fuckin' done it. If you ever need anything, jus' give us a
call. Anything you need."
"No problem, Moran. There's only one thing I need you to do. Give my number to
your grandson's, if they ever need any help with anything, you tell them to
call me." I told him, and he hummed in reply. "Oh and I'll need the full
details of the job I had you do. I'll need to cover it up as soon as they find
it."
"Sure, I'll have it to you by the end of the day." He rushed through his words,
the sound of people's voices faint in the background. "Did you take my advice
by the way? The name?"
"Uh... Yeah. I won't tell you it, I'm just Smith to you. I'll see you around,
Moran." With that we ended contact.
•••
Richard was nervous about something and I could see in his eyes he was
deseperate to let it out. He was paranoid and his hands were shaking as he
walked around in a circle. "What are you doing James? You're gonna get yourself
killed if you carry on like this!" He panicked. I rolled my eyes, searching
through my wardrobe and finding a simple black suit, the one I had wore to my
grandmothers funeral.
"I'm making something of myself, Richard. If you don't like it then fine, just
ignore it." I argued, pulling the shirt on. "I'm gonna be fine Richard, I'm
getting their slowly. One day I'm gonna rule this country."
"What is with you and power?" He scoffed, standing toe to toe with me now, his
eyes narrowed.
"I don't know, maybe I just like having some after spending so long with
nothing." I stepped back, shoving my legs into the pants and fixing the tie.
"I'll be back late, so don't wait up for me. I have a lot of work to do, with
so little time."
Richard looked at me with his large brown eyes, his lips forced into a smile.
"James you're not like this. You know you're not. You're a good person, you've
just had a shitty life."
"No Richard. You're a good person, I'm a murderer. I'm a criminal. I deserve to
be in a jail cell but here I am standing in front of you, doing everything I
can to make sure I don't go back there. I started this thing, and I'm sure as
hell going to see it through." I swung my jacket over my shoulders, shoving my
arms through the sleeve and buttoning it. "I will not apologise for the monster
I have become, because no one ever apologised for making me this way."
•••
"Mr. Rodriguez, you skipped out on me." I piped up as the man entered the
warehouse. It was now a regular meeting spot for my clients and I. It wasn't
mine, I had no idea who's it was, I just knew it was always deserted.
"You're a kid, what are ya' expecting?" He smirked. I shook my head, my hands
shoved into my pockets as I walked towards him. He didn't seem frightened and
he shouldn't have been, I was a kid. Sixteen years old, a murderer and running
a crime ring. How unexpected.
"You're underestimating me. You've seen what I can do. Did I not get your son
off the hook for a triple homicide?" I laughed. I didn't have money and it was
hard to get anywhere without a few hundreds, but law was a speciality of mine.
Getting people off the hook was easy. Paying people was a struggle and it was
something I was hoping Rodriguez could help me out with.
"You're still only a child. Besides I don't even know your name, how can I
trust you?" I cocked an eyebrow and began to circle around him.
"Moriarty, that's the name. Now, if you decide to skip out on me again, I will
make sure your brother is locked up for the rest of his life and your whole
operation tore down, do I make myself clear?" I didn't raise my voice, I stayed
calm. I knew how terrifying it felt to have a threat made to you with no power
or emphasis to back it up.
"Fine, one months trial. You do well and I'll supply you with more, but how do
you expect to distribute the stuff?" He questioned, prying into my operations.
I just laughed, offering him a simple wink.
"What you don't know, can't hurt you. I'll make you a rich man, Rodriguez. One
months trial is fine. I want a fifty percent cut though." I bargained. He
looked at me with wide eyes, as if I had just shot him and he was bleeding to
death on the ground.
"Sixty-forty. You do well, I'll renegotiate." I thought for a moment, re-
evaluating my position and fixing my plans around a sixty-forty share, before
agreeing. He shook my hand, a rather strong grip for a man who weighed around
eighty pounds. Obviously a heroin junkie. He would have to go once I took
control.
"Nice doing business with you. I'll have your money by the end of the month,
just drop the gear off at this address, and have McAdam pick it up." I
instructed him, handing him a piece of paper with an address on it. "I'll be in
touch."
•••
Richard was still on edge when I got home, sat on the couch staring at the
wall, completely oblivious to everything going on around him. I walked towards
him, my eyes heavy from a long day. "Glad to see you're still alive." He joked,
his voice completely serious.
"I told you, Richy. I'm gonna be completely fine." I smiled, when he turned to
look at me, the darked room making it hard to see his features.
"You know James, you're gonna have to tell me what happened sooner or later.
You can't continue to hide it from me. So when I turn that light on and you see
what you have caused, you're going to tell me everything." My heart dropped to
my stomach, a shiver running up my spine as I watched him move swiftly across
the room. "Josh came looking for you. I told him I didn't know where you were."
The light flickered on and the reoccurring nightmare I had began to play out in
front of me. Richard's clothes were torn slightly, a large bruise covering his
cheek and blood still trickling down his chin from where his lip had been split
open.
I took a shaky breath, my head starting to spin as I begged to wake up, as I
pleaded for this to be just a horrible nightmare. I swallowed the lump in my
throat, my eyes glazing over. "What happened?" I choked out, leaning forward in
my chair.
Richard walked closer, more cuts and bruises becoming visible as he got closer.
"It's not just sex that he wanted was it?" He asked.
"No. It wasn't. It was rape. It started at the pool, he never forced me into
it, but he never exactly made it very enjoyable. He made it as painful as
possible and in between fucking he would hit me. It happened every Sunday when
everyone was out and after school, wherever we could find."
I refused to cry. I refused to let a single tear fall from my eyes, as I bit
down on my lip. "You could've said something, James. You could've said
something, you knew I would've helped you." He snapped, sounding almost
betrayed.
"I didn't want to get you involved. I'm working on it though. I'm going to fix
this. I'm going to fix all of this." I told him, standing up and cupping his
face in my hands. "I'll make this okay, all of it. You'll see, we'll be set for
life. We'll have everything we want."
"That's not what I want James. I don't want the constant risk I'm going to be
killed, the horrible sense of paranoia someone will think I'm you. I don't want
to be the king of a crime ring. I just want a simple life, maybe get married
and have a kid or two. I don't want power James." He demanded. I shook my head,
fighting through the tears that threatened to spill, stopping the sobs that
fought to come out.
"I'm sorry, Richard. This is something I'm good at. This is all I have. I don't
have GCSE's to get a job and I don't have a perfect police record. I don't have
friends and I certainly don't have a family, I just have you and the empire I'm
building." I sighed, seeing the look on his face, the look of hope slowly
leaving his eyes. "I'm going to keep you safe though. I know how to keep you
safe. Just give me a year, one year and everything will be perfect. I won't
tell you anything about it, I'll make sure there is nothing ever tying you to
this. I promise."
Richard shook his head, moving away from me. "If this is what you want, then
count me out. I'll always be there for you, but I never want to hear anything
about what you're doing." I nodded in agreement, glad we found a middle ground.
"Thank you." He waved me off, stalking off up the stairs, never looking back as
my phone began to ring. I took a moment to compose myself, calming myself down
enough to take the call, before checking the I.D 'McAdams'.
"Hello?"
"Moriarty, the gear's just been dropped off. Sixty three kilos." I nodded
although he couldn't see me, thinking through the plan and making sure there
were definitely no loose ends.
"Great. I want the first ten kilos gone by Saturday. Two days. Give it to Krane
and tell him to work the north, I want six thousand by tomorrow morning."
McAdams hummed in reply, silently counting out the shit he had been landed
with. "I'll be there around four o'clock tomorrow afternoon, I want a full
report. We have a month to prove ourselves here."
"Yes sir. What would you like me to do about the Rodriguez guy?" He questioned,
expecting the answer to be something exciting, unfortunately I still needed
him.
"Leave him. I still have a few things for him to do, you will get the job soon
though, don't you worry." I assured him, pulling out my notepad and ticking off
another item on my list. "I need to take control of his cartel. It shouldn't be
too hard, he's addicted to the shit. Which reminds me, make sure none of the
gear is used by your men. I want every gram they stick in themselves payed
for."
"Yes, sir. Of course. I have my best men on it."
"Good, good. Now I have to go. Remember, four o'clock." With that I hung up,
the excitement of the game filling me up. I just can't wait to be king.
***** Drugs *****
Chapter Summary
     Drugs?
Chapter Notes
     I know I'm promoting this a lot but follow my twitter for updates!
     Also ask all your questions and your requests! @JimMoriartyxo
     Read at your own risk.
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 16
"McAdams!" I screamed as I entered the building, the walls crumbling. The small
man walked around the corner, stubble covering his face and a cigarette hanging
from his lips. "Put it out, or I will burn you with it."
McAdams removed the cancer stick, holding it between his thumb and index
finger, before stumping it out in an ashtray to his left. "I'm surmising you're
Moriarty." He smirked, his voice rough. I nodded, following him through the
corridors and into a large open room.
"We've sent ten kilos North, and Krane has prepared a plan to have it sold by
ten o'clock tomorrow." He informed me, pushing one of his other workers off a
chair. "Fuck off would ya' Spence."
"Spence?" I questioned, looking down at the brown haired guy lying on the
floor. "One of your staff, I assume?" McAdams nodded, rolling his eyes as he
clambered to his feet, one hand rubbing the back of his head.
"My eldest son, Spencer. Sorry about him, he minds the stuff when I'm not
here." He shrugged. I held a hand out with a small smile on my face.
"Nice to meet you Spencer, names Moriarty. You're realiable I assume?" I
questioned as he shook my hand. Both men looked at me, their eyebrows raised.
"Well, are you?" I pressed. Spencer nodded his head, his long brown hair
falling in front of his face. "Sit there then, and be quiet. I expect you to
keep everything you hear to yourself, not one word leaves this room. Do I make
myself clear?"
"Yes, sir." He smiled, and sat back down in a chair, staring up with interest.
"Great. Now. You Mr. McAdams!" I annouced spinning around to look at the older
man. "You want Rodriguez dead. I want his cartel. One month is all we have to
prove ourselves, and we need to get him more hooked on smack than he is
already. Spencer!" Once again spinning around to look at the boy. "This is
where you come in. You don't mind do you, McAdams; not that I care. You're
going to meet with him, he's gay obviously, the way he dresses and worries
about his appearance, along with the way he ignores the obviously attractive
women surrounding him."
Both men looked rather confused, their faces void of anything. "I've had people
following him all week. Spencer you're going to be our little actor. I'll have
someone following you the whole time for protection, I'll text you the details.
Best be off now, I have work to do. I'll be in touch, and do inform me of how
Krane is getting on, also send out another ten kilo's. I'll trust you to decide
who to give it to."
"Yes, sir. Oh a Mr. Moran came around looking for you. Said you'd take care of
anything he needed." He explained. I rolled my eyes, as he rushed out of the
room, "Left you this note."
"Alright, well thank you." I mumbled, and with that I left.
•••
Dear Smith,
My uncle Theodore says you can help me. The names John, John Sebastian but I'd
rather you call me Sebastian. You helped my father be cleared of murder, I
wondered if you could help me now though?
I appreciate everything you have done for my family, I wouldn't be asking if I
didn't need the help. I'm joining the army. Or at least, I want to. I was
wondering if you could maybe, fix the waiting list? Change my medical records a
little? Anything you can do to help me get in a little quicker.
There's a lot I need to get away from here in London. I will be forever in your
debt. Anything you want. Please.
Yours sincerely,
Sebastian Moran.
•••
John Sebastian Moran, 18
6ft 3inches. Blond hair, blue eyes, muscular build. Trained cadet and handy
with a gun, no serious crimes.
I think I can help him out.
***** Mental *****
Chapter Summary
     James is slowly growing in power and he's still struggling with his
     own mental stability.
Chapter Notes
     Okay kind of just a filler chapter on what's happening to Jim's
     mental state. Bare with me guys! Also thoughts on if you want me to
     skip ahead or not? I'm thinking age 18?
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 16
The dark was no longer comforting, the once calming atmosphere now tainted with
the horrible memories. The thoughts of pain and fear consuming me completely.
The silence being all that kept me sane. The comfort of hearing Richard's
breathing beside me grounding me in this world.
There were constant haloucinations of the life I had lived, the memories
projecting themselves out in front of me, the screaming and the crying, the
constant state of paranoia. It wasn't worth it. I had no choice though, all I
had was the empire I was building and if this was the consequences then so be
it.
I sat with my back resting against the head board. My laptop resting on one
knee and my phone on the other, Richard sleeping peacefully to my right, his
mouth slightly open and soft snores filling the room.
I had decided to work on Moran's request myself, hacking into his medical
records and starting to edit them. I had to make sure he sounded like the
greatest soldier they could ever have, erasing any evidence of broken bones or
other medical defects, which thankfully there weren't many off.
His police record was harder to erase, several assaults and a burglary charge.
He was trained in several martial arts and had been in many fights, including a
bar fight that left him hospitalised for a week. There wasn't anything serious,
he just slipped into a coma.
Now he was Sebastian Moran, perfect citizen.
I sighed and picked up my phone, feeling rather pleased with myself, after
deleting all evidence I ever hacked their server. Theodore had thankfully sent
me his grandson's number's, which was a great help, since I figured Sebastian
wouldn't appreciate me passing messages on through his family members.
'03:36 It's done. You should get a call sometime next week at the earliest.
Good luck and don't die out there. I have you down as a special ops, you'll be
trained as a sniper. You can then become a colonel. - Smith'
With that I was done. I sat staring at the screen illuminating the whole room,
a blank expression on my face and an empty feeling in my body. The empire was
running smoothly and the world was sound asleep, no fun for a sixteen year old
just starting out.
I switched the computer off and lay down, staring at the ceiling, the light
from the street lamp outside casting an orange glow across the roof. I began to
wonder about my father, how he felt when Moran had killed him. How he looked
when he realised he was about to die, as his blood slowly drained from his body
and his skin went pale. The fear that coursed through him, the same fear that
he had fed into me all these years, the same fear that still controlled me now.
That was when the banging began, the loud thuds growing more powerful the
closer they came. The angered breaths echoing in my ears, and the low growl
that would escape his lips when it was a particularly bad day. The sick feeling
in my stomach and the chills down my spine. His voice ringing through the air
as he shouted abuse at me.
I cowered in the the corner, my heart pounding so hard it physically shook my
whole body. "Please... No..." I whispered, my voice cracking as I spoke. A cold
sweat began to grow, my shirt sticking to me as I stared at the door handle,
any minute now it would turn and the door would fly open, a horrifying bang as
it hit the wall creating a slightly larger hole.
"You disgusting fag!" His voice whirled through my head and I could see the
smirk on his face. The hate filled look in his eyes as he raised his fist, the
blood curdling scream bouncing off the walls.
That's when I jumped awake, the sun shining in through the window and birds
singing. I struggled to catch my breath, my hand resting over my heart as it
beat a mile a minute. "James..." Richard croaked from the door way.
I lifted my head, our eyes meeting for only a moment, before he looked away.
"You need to come downstairs." He didn't say anything, no indication as to what
was going on, but I knew.
They'd found him.
I knew it wouldn't take them long, and I had already arranged everything so
that Moran would never be caught. No evidence of murder, just a simple suicide.
I sighed and regaining my thoughts and grabbed a new shirt from the ground,
quickly changing.
I could hear faint sobs coming from the living room as I made my way down the
stairs, two police officers stood in front of the fire, sympathetic looks on
both their faces. "Good morning, officers." I spoke as I entered the room,
feigning my best confused face. I looked down at my mother crying on the couch,
Richard sat beside her with his arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
"What's going on? Is it dad? Have you found him? Can I see him?"
Neither Richard or my mother found this strange. My father had gone missing
several times in the past, and each time I would react in roughly the same way.
It was the only way to maintain a 'family environment' and for him not to get
caught abusing people.
"I'm afraid you won't be able to do that son. Your father's body was found down
by the train tracks just past Kent. He's dead. I'm sorry." The taller officer
informed me. I stood there for a moment staring at them, my eyes wide as I took
a few deep breaths.
"He's... He's..." I stuttered out, and brought my hand up to my mouth. "I'm...
I'm sorry, I need a moment." I told them, running into the bathroom. This time
I was sick, the overwhelming feeling of relief crashing down on me. He was
never coming back. I was safe. I was free.
•••
The police left after questioning each of us, mostly trying to work out why he
would be headed towards Kent. I continued to act the grief stricken son and
kept the plan in motion to keep Moran from being caught.
'12:53 Found. Plan in motion. - Smith'
***** Hate *****
Chapter Summary
     James has a lot of work to do.
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 16
Moran needed to be in the clear, meaning that I had to make sure people thought
my father was suicidal. Which surprisingly wasn't hard. My grandmother and Aunt
May turned up around two o'clock after Richard called them. Uncle Charlie and
my cousin Leigh, appearing a little while later, and Steven, my dad's best
friend, not long after them.
I was left to fetch tea and coffee for everyone. Richard comforting my mother.
"I never thought he would actually do it..." Aunt May whispered to Charlie,
their backs to me, but I still managed to over hear them. "He mentioned it in
the past, but I always thought it was just an over exaggeration."
"Well at least the kids are safe now. He might have thought he was being smart,
but we all knew what he was doing to poor James." Charlie replied to her,
tightening his grip on the mug in his hand. I continued to prepare the drinks,
while listening into their conversation. "I'm just relived that he never did
any worse than a few beatings, can you imagine how James would be if he had
tried to do anything more..." He trailed off as Aunt May elbowed his side.
"Keep your voice down." She snapped, "He was a lot of things, but he wasn't a
rapist."
"I never said he was, I only thought... Never mind. It's just nice to see James
free of harm." With that he walked away from her, going to talk to my
grandmother.
I placed the mugs of tea and coffee on a tray, slowly making my way back into
the room and handing them out. Each member of my family in a different stage of
grief with my mother slowly starting to slip into anger.
Richard gave me a simple look, one that meant I should leave the room, but I
couldn't. As I stood there the room growing quiet. "This is your fault!" My
mother screamed, jumping up from the couch. I didn't try and move, there was no
point, it was either now or later. "You hated him and now he's killed himself,
and it's all because of you!"
"Come on Sarah, it's not James' fault, you know that. This was inevitable."
Aunt May tried to argue, but it was useless. My mother wasn't going to listen
though, she was already thinking of three hundred different ways to kill me. We
were very alike my mother and I, that's why we would argue and cause problems,
we were too alike.
"Come on Ma, you know I didn't do anything to cause this." I tried to argue,
frozen to the spot and eyes never moving from my mother's face. "You know what
he was like, Ma. You know I didn't do this!"
It was no use though, just as I had thought, her hands were around my neck and
slowly getting tighter. As she looked into my eyes all I could see was hate.
"He raped him!" Richard screamed.
My mother dropped me to the ground, her whole body going stiff, a terrifying
stillness falling over the room. "He raped him, mum. Dad... James... I'm
sorry." He whispered, his voice giving up on him.
My mother looked down at me, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. "Is... Is he
telling the truth?" She whispered, every part of her wishing for me to shake my
head and tell her Richard was lying. I couldn't do that though.
"Yes."
Everyone's eyes fell on me, each of them wearing their own expression of either
shock or sympathy. I climbed to my feet, using the fireplace to steady myself,
and looked around at everyone. "I'm sorry, Ma."
•••
I spent the night in bed watching films, the volume turned up as high as it
could go, my headphones blocking out any sound that was coming from downstairs.
Richard had tried to apologise multiple times since the incident but I couldn't
deal with it. I had work to do anyways, which I was currently neglecting.
Everyone had figured that he had killed himself out of guilt. Finally coming to
his senses and not wanting to live with the consequences. "Taking the cowards
way out" as they so kindly put it.
Aunt May had left not long after it had been announced, unable to face the
truth. She was the one who would probably figure out that it wasn't actually a
suicide. I had people following her none the less.
Richard entered the room again, a tray of food in his hands as he sat down on
the end of my bed. "Please talk to me James." I saw him mumbled, another
explosion crashing through the headphones. "James, please. I didn't mean it, it
just slipped out!" He pleaded, and another explosion.
He looked down at the food in his lap, his eyes red from crying and skin pale.
He looked almost sickly. "Please James... Just talk to me." I sighed, pausing
my film and pulling the headphones from my ears. "You know I didn't mean it.
I'd never tell any-"
"But you did, Richy. You told our whole family." I cried, and threw the laptop
to my side. "You told our whole family... You don't have to deal with the
questions now, and the sympathy. The whole 'If I knew then I would have stopped
it'. You don't have to deal with people calling you a liar, or a victim."
Richard placed the tray down on the table beside him and stood up, turning to
leave. "She would have killed you if I didn't say something, James."
"Maybe that's what I want."
•••
'09:43 We might have a problem, I'll keep you informed. Should be resolved
easily. - Smith'
***** Work *****
Chapter Summary
     James is surrounding himself with work, hoping to stay ahead of
     everything.
Chapter Notes
     Okay, so I'm going name each chapter with one word (As I have been
     doing already) so when Jim and Sebastian finally meet it will be in a
     chapter titled Mormor, for those of you who just want to read the
     mormor side of this story. I promise it is coming soon!
Names: James Moriarty
Age: 16
McAdams and I were hiding in the back of the bar, a screen blocking everyone's
view of us as Spencer sat at the bar. "Are ya' sure he's safe?" He asked me for
the millionth time. I nodded, watching carefully as we waited for Rodriguez to
make his appearance. "He's not a fighter, what if he-"
"He'll be McAdams now shut up, I'm trying to pay attention." I demanded, his
body language telling me that he was worried about his son. It sickened me.
I pulled my phone out and checked my e-mails, scrolling through the many spam
messages, until I came across the one I needed. '07:20 He's on his way, no men
with him. Possibly hoping to do business with someone.' I sighed and rolled my
eyes, as the bell above the door rang out, the high pitched sound alerting me
that the target had finally entered the building.
'07:34 He's hoping to do business with someone. Keep your eye on him. Don't be
so quick to engage. - Moriarty'
McAdams attention turned straight to his son, watching carefully as he drank
the last of his pint, and quickly ordered another one. His eyes were trained on
Rodriguez, watching his every move. A dangerous move, but I admired his
courage.
"He's doing well. He's got his attention." I informed Spencer's father, who was
now completely on edge. I was actually quite worried he was going to ruin
everything, before it had even started.
'07:52 Stay calm, he's noticed you. Also stop staring, he'll take it as a
challenge! -Moriarty'
Spencer looked down reading the text quickly as Rodriguez made his way over to
him. "You're girlfriend checking up on you?" Rodriguez asked, leaning against
the bar. Spencer smirked shaking his head.
"Oh no, my boyfriend couldn't care less. He's probably off sleeping around
anyways." He joked, and took a sip of his drink. Rodriguez looked intrigued by
this, his eyes widening for just a second before he composed himself again. I
grinned as I watched them talk for a little while longer until Rodriguez's men
showed up.
"I have to go, but here. Call me sometime." Spencer nodded, taking the piece of
paper from him and shoving it into his pocket. "I didn't get your name."
"Spencer. Spencer James Norwood." He smiled, and with that Rodriguez left.
Spencer sauntered over, a smug look on his face as he slid into the booth next
to his father. "You owe me twenty quid."
•••
I avoided going home that day, making appointment after appointment. An arms
dealer, a counterfeit, three hackers and a women who went by the name of Ammo.
Things were growing pretty fast, and I was slowly starting to make money. Just
a few hundred here and there.
I took cuts from everything. Always a bigger cut than anyone else. Soon I would
be able to pay people for their work, no longer working for favours. The
thought of the power I would have making me hungry for more.
I got home around midnight, the lights in the house all off and silence filling
every corner. A large contrast to the previous night that was full of yelling
and arguments. I strolled through the living room towards the kitchen to get a
drink when a quiet sob broke through the quiet. It wasn't Richard, he would
never cry in the living room, a habit from a young age.
I flicked on the light, the small figure of my mother sat on the couch before
me, her head in her hands as she cried. I sighed, walking around the sofa and
sitting beside her. "What's the matter, Ma?"
She looked up for a moment, her eyes meeting mine, the dark brown of her iris
mixing with the black hole of her pupils. "I'm so sorry I never tried to stop
him... I'm so sorry I never noticed that-" She cut herself off with another
sob, her whole body shaking with the force of it.
"It's okay Ma, you couldn't have done anything. You know how he was." I
reassured her, pulling her close to my side. "It's not your fault, Ma. Now come
on, go to bed it's late. You have work tomorrow."
She dried her eyes and nodded reluctantly. "You're right. Good night, James."
She mumbled and stood up. "Thing's will get better. We'll go out this weekend.
You, me and Richard. Just like old times."
"Yeah, Ma. Of course we will."
***** Rodriguez *****
Chapter Summary
     James and the Holmes brothers, how exciting.
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 16
I sighed watching the CCTV I had set up in the bar, each camera discreetly
hidden and focused solely on Spencer and Rodriguez. Spencer was relaxed, and if
I didn't know better, I'd have thought he was actually into the guy.
"How's it looking?" McAdams questioned, entering the room with two cups of tea.
I shrugged taking one of the mugs, my eyes never leaving the screen. "If this
goes wrong, Moriarty-"
"It won't go wrong. Everything is perfectly fine." I assured him. He sat down
beside me, nervously sipping at his tea. "There's four guys hidden in that
room, if things start to go bad, they'll be the first ones in. However it does
mean you won't get your kill."
"Just so long as my son gets out alive." He sighed. I nodded, a pain shooting
through my chest at the thought of how he cared for his child. The love he felt
for his son. It hurt to think I would never have that.
"He will. Only two more meetings and he should be able to convince him to use.
Once we've done that, I can convince him to sign the contract to state I own
his cartel. You get your kill and everything can start building from there." I
grinned, pulling out my phone when I saw Rodriguez stand to leave. "I'd like to
keep you on, the head of the whole thing."
"Seriously?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest and starting to relax.
"I'm pretty sure I can trust you. You're an efficient worker. We can figure out
all the complicated stuff at a later date, but I'll leave you to think about
it." I smirked, as I saw Spencer place a hand on Rodriguez's chest, pushing him
against the table. He was good at this. I thought, and glanced over at his
father.
'11:52 You're father's about to have a heart attack, get out of there soon.' I
typed out, waiting for the right moment to send it, so Rodriguez wouldn't be
able to read it as it flashed on the screen.
"You're a smart kid, you sure you know what you're gettin' yourself into? This
is a dangerous game to play." McAdams spoke up after a few minutes, placing his
tea on the table in front of us.
"I'm not an ordinary kid" I smirked, as Spencer left the bar. '12:13 Car. Bar.
Now.' I typed into the phone, making sure Spencer would be gone by the time
Rodriguez had time to regain himself. "I'll see you next week. Here's your cut
by the way." I smirked, handing over roughly three hundred quid to the man.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Moriarty."
•••
Three hundred and forty five pounds. That's all that was left after paying
everyone for their work by the end of the month. I sighed and threw the money
into my pocket, and rounded the corner towards the warehouse. This is the day
we were going to find out how well we were doing, and to get the cartel.
Spencer had managed to get the man to fall in love with him, before crushing
his heart into a million pieces. It was just a matter of days before he started
shooting up again. I smiled as I walked into the warehouse, my hands in my
pockets as the man stood in front of me.
His hair had grown out a lot since I had last seen him, unable to watch Spencer
and his meetings. He had stubble covering his chin and he looked like he hadn't
washed in several days, his eyes bloodshot and his skin a sickly pale. "Good
afternoon, Mr. Rodriguez. It's nice of you to join me."
"Yes. Mr. Sorry who are you again?" He squinted his eyes, trying to remember
who I was. "Moriarty!" He yelled, his mind returning to him.
"Mr. Rodriguez I am not sure you are completely competent to be running this
cartel in the state you are in." I smirked, watching as he struggled to stand.
"You haven't been using have you, Mr. Rodriguez?" I raised an eyebrow and
watched as he attempted to walk towards me, his body giving out on him, as he
sank to his knees.
"I'm going through a tough time." He snapped.
"Yes I know, your boyfriend left you and you don't know how to continue with
out him." I rolled my eyes as he looked up at me. "Shall I tell you a secret?
He worked for me." I laughed. "In fact he's here with me now. Let me introduce
you to Spencer McAdams, you might remember his father as well. If not let me
refresh your memory. You killed his daughter."
Fear flashed through his eyes as he watched the two men enter the room, a large
rifle in hand. "We're going to cut you a deal. You sign over the cartel to me,
you get to leave with your life."
McAdams shot me a quick glance, hoping that I wasn't being serious, as
Rodriguez stared up at us. "You get Spencer too, I'm sure he's taken quite the
shine to you." I smirked.
"It's yours, take it. I wanted out of the game anyways!" He panicked, his body
shaking as he stared up at the young boy. "Please, take anything. Just don't
kill me!"
Rodriguez continued to panic as he made a few phone calls, setting everything
up. His body trembling with fear. My lips curled up into a smile as I received
message after message, each one informing me of a new employee.
"That's it! That's all of it. Please, just let me go!" He begged, tears falling
from his eyes. "Please!"
"Sorry, that's not up to me. He's all yours McAdam. I'll see you Monday with
all the details." I waved, pulling out my phone and saving the many contacts
that I had suddenly acquired. Next thing on the list; bodyguard.
***** Morstan *****
Chapter Summary
     Jim knows exactly what he's doing.
Chapter Notes
     Hey guys, I know I update this a lot, it's because I have no life. I
     hope it doesn't really bother you guys though. Please don't forget to
     leave comments and kudos. I love reading every single comment and I
     will reply to every single one aswell. It's only fair if you take the
     time to comment that I do the same <3
     Also follow my twitter @JimMoriartyxo and my instagram that I
     recently started which is also JimMoriartyxo I will keep you posted
     on when I update on both of them. I will also entertain you with my
     many ways of procrastination.
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 16
Everything seemed to slow down as the gun fire echoed through the quiet
surroundings. Rodriguez was definitely dead after that. "I'm in need of a body
guard. Do you know anyone?" I spoke into the microphone, starting to head back
to the car.
"I have a few good ones, but none within your price range. I could maybe send
an assassin squad to you, sort of a stand in?" Ammo spoke back, her voice was
soft and I could hardly believe this was the woman I had met with the previous
month.
"What's the best you got?" I questioned, willing to compromise. I heard her
shuffling papers as she searched through the many people she had in her
control. I opened the car door, sliding into the back seat and waiting for the
two men I had left at the warehouse to join me.
"I have a group of four, go by the name of A.G.R.A." She spoke finally. "Each
trained to kill, the best being the girl. She goes by the name of Rosamund
Mary. However if you're looking more for muscle I'd suggest A.J." She advised.
"How good a shot is the girl?"
"Perfect." She replied. I hummed and agreed to the group of assassins, before
hanging up and placing the phone back in my pocket.
•••
Richard was lay on the couch when I got back, his arm covering his eyes.
"Evening." I mumbled, heading into the kitchen and pouring myself a glass of
orange juice. Richard followed me out, mumbling something about how I'm always
working.
"You know, you could have told me what you did to dad." He spoke up after a few
minutes. I turned around to face him, a stone cold look on my face. "Moran came
around, said something about the army?"
I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Right... I've gotta go out again,
it seems. Don't wait up." I mumbled and left the house again, making my way to
the pub down the road. "Moran, lovely to see you again."
"You helped my grandson get into the army!" He yelled, slamming his hand down
on the bar. I crossed my arms and watched as he turned himself around,
narrowing his eyes at me. "You've signed his death warrant."
"Your grandson is training to be a sniper. A colonel. He asked me to do it for
him." I told him and smirked. Moran was a lot taller than I, and he was
obviously a lot stronger than I, but fear was not something I was willing to
show. "He'll be fine. I've payed a guy to keep an eye on him. A Mr. John
Watson. He's going to do whatever it takes to save your grandson."
"If he dies, it's your head on the line." He growled into my ear. I just
nodded, with a small smile.
"He'll be fine, Moran. Don't you worry about it. Now if you'll excuse me I have
somewhere to be."
•••
I was crumbling from the lack of sleep. Days were merging together and nights
becoming just extra hours. Large purple bags began to appear under my eyes and
I was longing for the days when I could relax.
This wasn't one of those days.
"Hello." I smiled as I entered the office. "You must be Rosamund." I held out
my hand politely, watching as she moved around the room, short brown hair
bouncing with every step.
"You must be Moriarty. Forgive me, I was expecting someone older." She grinned,
her eyes lighting up as she stood there. "I hear you're looking for a temporary
body guard?" She questioned.
"I was told you were the best." I stated, "I hope I wasn't misinformed."
She smirked, pulling out a five pence coin and tossing it in the air. Before it
had even started to fall, she had her gun out and fired a shot. "That good?"
She asked, raising her eyebrow as she caught the coin, holding it in the air
between her thumb and index finger. A hole in the centre.
"Well she wasn't lying." I smirked, as she flipped it in my direction. "Here's
my number. I'll be in touch soon."
***** Choice *****
Chapter Summary
     Jim's first big scheme
Chapter Notes
     So sorry for not updating yesterday, I had a horrible appointment to
     go to, and didn't have time to write. Here we are though. Jim's first
     big scheme.
     Unfortunately no Moran yet. I promise you guys we're getting to him,
     so I really hope you don't mind!
     Also the version of Mrs. Hudson in this story is basically just what
     I read on wikipedia while searching for her first name. So I know
     some of it is inaccurate ect. it just works with the story line...
     Sir Arthur Conan Doyle must hate me
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 17
I had finally moved into my first office, large windows overlooking London, a
huge desk with four laptops placed upon it, each with a different IP address
that was traced to a different location every ten minutes. A rather comfortable
leather chair, that could spin off course! Two lights in the furthest corners
of the room, beside the door and a giant bookcase that stretched across the
back wall, each shelf adorned with many books and files.
Six telephones were set up, each traced to different locations just like the
laptops, and a long water tank filled with jellyfish, just for the sake of it.
Along with two chairs in front of the desk for those who dared to meet with me.
I hadn't used Rosamund yet, she wasn't needed due to how small my empire had
been. Tonight was the night though. Everything was in place and nothing could
go wrong. Sherrinford and Josh would pay.
"Hello?" Rosamund spoke into the receiver. Her voice was quiet and I could tell
she was currently either sleeping or on a job.
"It's Moriarty. Eight o'clock at the cafe on Bakers street. Three thousand for
the job, if you want more we can negotiate later. Just be there." I demanded. I
didn't give her a chance to answer, just hung up and continued to tie any loose
ends within my plan.
Phase one of taking down the Holmes'.
•••
"So what's the plan?" She questioned as she sat down. The cafe was fairly empty
at this time, other than Mrs. Turner, the owner, and her daughter Martha. She
was a fairly beautiful young woman, in her late twenties, engaged. Obviously an
addict, not her fault of course, and her mother was trying to help her.
Possibly pregnant which is the cause for her sudden engagement, however not
obvious from just looking at her.
I snapped my attention to the assassin in front of me, her dark brown hair now
short and blonde. "Have you ever heard of the Holmes brothers?" I asked with a
smirk. She shook her head and took her cup of tea in hand, pressing the cup
against her lips. "Group of three brothers, each of which I had a personal
vendetta against. Tonight we go after the eldest. I want him to break."
"What do you want me to do?" She grinned. I liked this girl, she didn't ask
questions. Not useful as a body guard, but definitely useful for intricate
plans. No family members so she's easily replaceable and barely any friends
other than those within her assassination squad.
"Do whatever I say. You do well at this and there's an extra thousand in it for
you. You just have to bring a gun. Preferably one with a red aiming beam,
mostly because I like the dramatics of it." I laughed. She nodded, quickly
jotting it down in a notebook before looking up again, she was intrigued.
"You'll also need to be very precise shot. If I give the word I want the shot
straight through the heart, first time."
"You know I can deliver on that." She smirked, sipping her tea again. I nodded
in agreement and looked around the cafe once again.
"I also need you to kidnap someone for me. Two people in fact. Two thousand for
both, to whoever you get to do it."
"When do you need all this?" She questioned, as she wrote down my final
request.
"Three hours. The pool where Carl Powers died. Trust me, they'll understand
why. Their names, by the way, are Josh Lieson and William Sherlock Scott
Holmes." I grinned. She nodded, pulling her phone out and typing out what I
assumed to be a message, before standing up.
"Three hours. I'll see you then. I do hope you don't mind if I bright a couple
friends?"
"Not at all, so long as they don't get in my way."
•••
Time couldn't pass quicker. I paced my office sixty four times before it was
time to leave. My heart was pounding in my chest as I all but skipped down to
the car waiting for me. Rosamund had informed me of the successful capture of
the two men I had asked for, each of them tied up and gagged at the pool.
'10:47 Carl Powers won't be the only one to die here. You better hurry. -
James.' I smirked, eagerly awaiting Sherrinford's response. The car sped
through the streets due to the lack of traffic, as I bounced in my seat, the
excitement of the game too much to bear.
•••
Sherrinford entered the pool a short while after eleven. His hair was a mess
from running his hand through it and his clothes dishevelled. "Hello!" I called
out to him, A.G.R.A. setting their sights on him as I sat beside the pool, my
feet kicking about in the water. "It's been a while, how are you?"
"Don't play games with me, James! Where is he?" He demanded, his voice rough
but weak. His eyes were red and blood shot and his skin a pale colour, the
familiar signs of fear.
"Who?" I asked, playing dumb and also wondering which one he had noticed
missing first. Sherrinford walked around the pool, still unknowing of the
snipers watching his every movement.
"You know very well who I'm on about." He tried to sound confident, but his
voice gave out on him, cracking half way through the word 'who'. I just
shrugged, splashing some water at him, and swaying side to side.
"I don't believe I do." I smirked, pulling my knees to my chest and sliding
backwards on the floor. "You'll have to give me a clue." I joked, and jumped to
my feet.
Sherrinford stood toe to toe with me almost, his height giving him an obvious
advantage as well as the obvious muscles protruding through his shirt, that was
so skin tight it might as well have been painted on. "Where's Josh?" He
demanded, his teeth gritted and eyes narrowed.
"Oh is that who you're here for? I thought you were here for little William.
It's a shame really. I was hoping to keep him alive, he's quite adorable."
Sherrinford's expression fell, his mouth hanging open, and a look of disbelief
taking over.
"Sherry?" A small voice spoke up from behind me. I smirked and walked back a
few paces, spinning around to look at the smaller boy, his long black curly
hair hanging in front of his face. He was younger than I, only by three or four
years, but his mind was highly developed. I was pleasantly surprised when he
deduced my entire plan from only a single glance. The only link he couldn't
make was why I was doing this.
"The names James. James Brook, it's nice to meet you William. Unfortunately our
meeting will only be short, as your brother obviously cares more for a rapist
than you. I do apologise, hold still. I wouldn't want my men to miss you,
you'll die slower and it will be more painful. I wouldn't want to put you thro-
"
"No!" He screamed suddenly. I grinned like a Cheshire cat, my smile reaching my
ears. "Let him go James. It's me you want."
"No, you're wrong. I don't want you." I laughed, turning around again. Tears
had started to fall from his eyes as he stood before me. He was no longer
strong or confident. His eyes were glossed over with tears and his body
trembling. "I'll give you a choice. Only one can live. Your brother," I
narrowed my eyes at him, pursing my lips as one of Rosamund's associates
brought Josh out from the room on the opposite side from where we stood. "Or
Josh."
I nodded in the direction of my previous 'daddy', and he turned his head to see
the smaller man behind him. His hands tied behind his back and a tie stuffed
into his mouth. He looked scared, tears falling down his bright red cheeks and
hair sticking to his forehead. "Your choice."
Red dots appeared on both men, just over their hearts, and Sherrinford suddenly
realised how real this was. His eyes went wide and I could see him trying to
figure something out, a way for them both to survive. "Take me, James. Kill me!
Just let them go!" He pleaded.
"No. That's not how this works. You're going to suffer, just like I did." I
laughed, crossing my arms over my chest. Sherrinford began to hyperventilate,
his pulse racing and eyes darting around the room. I began to walk away from
him, making my way towards Josh, his body tensing the closer I got. "Don't
worry, daddy won't hurt you. Daddy just wants to play." I joked.
Each word dripping with venom as his eyes followed me around the room. Daddy,
The most terrifying word I had ever heard. The most terrifying word I had ever
uttered. Yet children would say it as if it was nothing, as if the word was the
safest thing they could think of. Their daddy's never beat them though. Their
daddy's were kind and loving and caring. Nothing like Josh, or my father.
Daddy. The most powerful word in my vocabulary.
"Please, James. Just let them go!" Sherrinford begged as I made my way back
towards him, smiling wide as his brother squirmed in the grasp of who I assumed
to be A.J.
"Play the game." I whispered into his ear, quickly moving away from him and
towards William. "I do apologise for this. Your brother's been a rather nasty
person though. I suggest you delete this from your memory; if you're the one he
chooses of course." I laughed.
Josh managed to spit the tie out after that, struggling to break free from the
assassin. "Let them go, James. Kill me. Kill me!" He screamed, the red dot
moving frantically over his body. I was quite surprised how calm the younger
boy was in this situation compared to the others.
"No. I need him to choose, shut him up would you?" I snapped, glaring at the
two men.
"Pick him, Sherrinford. Pick your broth-" He yelled, as the tie was shoved back
into his mouth. I pulled my phone out and quickly tapped out a message to the
clean up crew I had hired. I couldn't risk anyone finding the body, especially
not here.
As I looked up I saw Sherrinford staring at Josh, his eyes puffy and biting his
lip. "I can't do it... I can't loose either of them." He cried out, more to
himself. Josh calmed for a moment, giving him one long and loving look. It was
sickening. The way his eyes softened and his whole body relaxed. It was a look
of pure love. "Forgive me." He whispered, before turning back to face me, he
couldn't breath, as he fell to his knees. "I pick William... Let him go."
I snapped my fingers, and the young boy ran to his brother, his hair bouncing
on top of his head. He fell into Sherrinford's arms, his face buried in his
chest as he let out a heartbroken sob.
I nodded subtly, neither of them watching and Rosamund took the shot, a loud
bang erupting from the higher level of the room, and a blood curdling scream.
The two Holmes brothers flinched, turning around to see Josh fall to the floor
with a thud. His head cracked on the side of the pool, a stream of crimson red
liquid spilling into the crystal water, his whole body going limp. "Good night,
Mr. Holmes." I laughed, sliding my feet into my shoes as the assassins gathered
their things and ran out.
I carefully stepped over the body, stopping in my tracks, the sound of crying
filling my ears. "He was going to die either way." I confessed, looking down at
the body. Blood was still pouring out, dying the floor tiles a bright red and
reflecting the lights from the ceiling. "I suggest you get out of here. The
police will arrive in three minutes and forty eight seconds."
Sherrinford choked out something to his brother, both of them running through
one of the other doors, and I smiled to myself. I was going to destroy the
Holmes' one brother at a time.
***** Wonder *****
Chapter Summary
     Jim notices how different he is from others.
Chapter Notes
     We're getting closer to Moran, I promise. This all makes sense.
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 17
I did that. I did that. I caused that blood to leave his body, his heart to
stop and his limbs to fall limp beside that pool. I caused him to die. So why
didn't I feel anything? I didn't feel relieved like I had my father, I didn't
feel ecstatic as I had with Carl. I just felt less empty. There was no emotion
though. It was like a compulsion, I had to do it. I had to kill, to threaten,
to lie, to steal, to cheat to get that rush I felt the first time. It had to be
bigger, better! It was like a drug and it was consuming me completely. I needed
it.
Rosamund sat before me at my desk, her left leg crossed over her right. She was
being very quiet and I could see the look in her eyes. She was feeling guilty.
She had just killed a seventeen year old kid. Of course she was guilty. I
should feel guilty, but I didn't. "So I said three for the job, two for whoever
kidnapped them and an extra thousand for how well you did. Six thousand." I
smiled, placing the money on the table within her reach.
"Do you not feel guilty? He was just a kid." She mumbled, taking the money and
stuffing it into a duffel bag along with her gun. I shrugged, pulling a box of
cigarette from the top drawer, placing one between my lips. A good kill was to
me what sex was to everyone else. And a single cigarette made everything that
little bit better.
"He was a disgusting person. Of course I don't feel guilty. Now get out of
here, Ammo has a job for you." I waved, sending her away. Rosamund sighed, and
grabbed her bag making her way out of the office, only stopping to open the
door.
"Just because he was a disgusting person. Doesn't give you the right to kill
him."
•••
I groaned, spinning around in the chair to face another one of my laptops, each
of them with another secret forum that controlled my empire. '03:42 I need
someone to watch Sherrinford Holmes for at least the next week. Six thousand.'
They all worked for me, they were all payed on a regular basis even if they
didn't have a job. Giving them a little extra for certain things just helped to
keep them there.
'03:58 I'll do it. Augustus Evens, ex-CIA.' Someone replied. I smirked,
wondering how Sherrinford was handling the death of his fiancé. Hopefully just
as I had predicted, after all it wasn't me who chose to kill him. He did.
'04:08 Send updates every two hours. Need him followed on CCTV if he leaves the
house, extra thousand for everyone who gives me more that two updates. I'll be
in touch.'
Two days until I needed to get back to work, I needed to catch up on sleep. I
needed to figure out what's going on in my head. I needed to find what was
going on with me. Maybe Richard will help?
•••
I got home a little while later, it was roughly six o'clock in the morning and
I could hear footsteps above me. I began to panic, the flashbacks taking over
again. My father, the beatings. What if he was really dead? What if he was
coming for me? I panicked, frantically looking around the room, my eyes darting
everywhere. I needed to hide, but I was frozen. "James?" The familiar voice
spoke from the top of the stairs.
I looked up with confusion, breathing a sigh of relief to see Richard. "Hey." I
smiled, quickly composing myself. He smiled and ran down the steps two at a
time, his arms quickly wrapping around my shoulders.
"I've missed you, you haven't been home in weeks!" I pulled away looking into
his eyes, and just grinned. This was genuine. Pure. This was caring.
"I know, I'm sorry. Works been insane lately. I've got two days off though." I
told him. This only caused his smile to grow, a light returning to his eyes as
he stood there. "How about we go get breakfast, catch up and then we'll go out
for the day. You, me and Ma."
 
"Sure sounds great." He agreed, pulling me into the kitchen.
•••
We had ended up going to see a movie, the weather betraying us and rain pouring
down. I didn't mind though. It was nice to relax and do something other than
work. "Which would you like to see?" I questioned, looking over each of the
titles. Richard shrugged, his eyes dancing over each name.
"How about that one?" Ma spoke up from behind me, pointing to one of the names.
I shrugged and Richard nodded. I guess that was our film.
After buying the tickets, we made our way into the theatre, seating ourselves
towards the back. Ma was next to Richard and I at the end near the aisle. Each
of us falling into silence and staring up at the screen. My eyes felt heavy and
I could feel them threatening to close as I sat there.
Richard nudged me, and I jolted awake, turning to face him. "You fell asleep."
He laughed. I nodded and stared at the screen, with no idea what was going on
anymore. All I knew was that some guy was about to be killed.
And I was right.
The 'hero' stabbed his sword into the 'villains' neck, blood spilling out,
quite innacuratly. I laughed none the less. Blood pooled around the body, his
eyes staring up as he died. It wasn't as good as the real thing, but watching
someone die was always enjoyable.
•••
By the time we got home I was exhausted. Without the work, I could feel my body
giving up on me. All I wanted was to sleep, but I needed to spend time with
Richard. I needed to spend time with Ma.
We all sat down in the living room, Ma on the couch and Richard and I sat on
the floor, the coffee table between us all. "So have you found a job yet,
James?" She questioned. I nodded, grinning at her.
"Yeah, I'm the CEO of a rather successful company now, Ma. In fact that's why
I'm here. I've bought the house." I told her. She raised an eyebrow starin at
me in shock, her mouth slightly open. "You could've told me you were trouble
with the bank, Ma."
"I didn't want you to worry." She admitted, her eyes watering with joy. She
really had tried to make up for lost time, for not seeing what my father was
doing to me, for not stopping him. She had tried so desperately to make up for
everything, that she was now in debt.
"Well now you don't have to worry. I'm paying for the house now. If you need
anything, you just let me know." I grinned. Richard gave me an unfamiliar look,
his eyes full of worry, that I simply just smiled.
"Thank you, James. I'm so proud of you." She cooed, moving around the table and
wrapping her arms around me. This was what parenting was. Family.
So why didn't I feel anything? Why didn't I feel warm inside like people said?
Why did I just feel empty? Voided?
•••
Late that night I went to bed, staring up at the ceiling and curling myself up
in the blanket. "Do you think there's something wrong with me?" I mumbled to
Richard who was currently lay next to me. It had become a regular thing after
dad died, the flashbacks and nightmares had gotten so bad, that Richard had
started to sleep next to me.
"I think you're ignoring your PTSD and now you're making bad decisions." He
stated simply. I elbowed him in the side, which just caused him to laugh. "What
do you mean then? Like illness or mentally?"
"Mentally. I just don't feel anything. Emotions I mean. I could kill a guy and
it'd be the same as if I had just broke a plate." I told him, lying slightly.
"Maybe you're a psychopath." He joked, rolling over onto his side, "Now go to
sleep, I'm exhausted."
I nodded, rolling the opposite way, our backs pressed together. "Good night
Richard." I whispered, pulling the blanket up under my chin. Psychopath. I'll
have to look into that.
***** Thoughts *****
Chapter Summary
     Burying things inside your head is never a good idea.
Chapter Notes
     Mind palace explination incoming, don't worry if you can't understand
     it, neither can I. I'm going by a random article I clicked on so if
     anything is wrong, please don't blame me, it's wikihow.
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 17
I woke up late the next afternoon, my body felt relaxed and my eyes had stopped
hurting so much. Richard was already up, leaving me alone with my thoughts, the
horrible memories replaying on a loop.
I needed to find a way to get rid of them. I needed a way to delete them from
my mind. I grabbed my laptop from the floor, the screen flickering on. I didn't
know what to search for and decided to just start with 'rape recovery'.
I found a few articles, each talking about medication and therapy, suggesting
that talking to people would be helpful. Unfortunately, each would take a long
time, years possibly, before I could even come close to 'recovering'.
I sighed and decided to try something different, this time searching for
'memory techniques'. Nothing caught my eye as I searched through the first page
on google, each one talking about breathing exercises and memory games. I
rolled my eyes and skipped through to the fifth page, deciding nothing useful
would appear on the others, when one of them caught my eye.
'Method of Loci.' I raised an eyebrow but decided to find out what it was none
the less, clicking the link and waiting for the page to load.
The process seemed pretty straight forward, start in one room and slowly
expand, placing memories with each of the items within. I lay back, grateful
the house was still silent and closed my eyes picturing my office. Each book
was replaced with a memory, each memory filed away on the shelves and each
shelf filled with the most important parts of my life.
That was until I got to the nightmares. I could remember them so vividly, the
emotions each memory brought back. The fear, the pain, the sadness, the
emptiness, the anger, the hurt, the betrayal. It was all there, flowing through
every inch of my body, itching under my skin dying to get out. I pushed them
down into my least favourite books, each of them filling the pages as if they
were it's own. "Never again." I whispered, taking a deep breath. Mind office.
I looked around at the room I had built within my head, smiling slightly before
an idea popped in. I opened another book, the only book I had never opened in
my entire life, that my grandmother had gave me as a child. It was a pop up
book about dinosaurs, never touched and left to gather dust under my bed. This
was for emotions. They were never going to get in the way again.
I slowly came back to reality after that, my mind feeling empty and quieter. I
smirked checking the time and finding I had been zoned out for three hours, and
had unfortunately missed the whole day. Although I didn't mind. I had needed a
day to relax and just be on my own.
I rubbed my eyes, sitting up and crossing my legs beneath me. "Rich?" I called
out, hearing footsteps outside of my room. My heart beat sped up, as I stared
at the doorknob, but no flashbacks came, no memories, no thoughts of what would
happen when that door opened. There was no fear or panic, just an eerie sense
of calmness. "Richard?" I called out again, standing up and walking towards the
wooden door, my hand reaching out to open it.
"Rich what are you-" I tried to question, when he clamped a hand over my mouth.
"Mother and Aunt May are talking, so shut up sit there and listen." He
whispered, perching himself on the top step of the stair way. I sat down beside
him, hugging my knees to my chest and listening to their conversation.
"Did you not think it would be a good idea to call the police?" Aunt May
sassed, her arms probably folded across her chest in a defensive stance. "Your
son was abused and raped by your late husband and you're acting like nothing
ever happened, did you ever talk to him about it?"
"Of course I did, but ultimately it's up to him what he does. It's his life.
I've assured him that I'd be there for him no matter what, and I'd always back
him up." Ma argued, her tone strong, it was quite strange to hear her so
defensive. It quite strange to hear anyone be defensive over me. Things really
had changed since my father died.
"You're lucky I haven't phoned social services on you!" Aunt May shot back, the
sound of a glass smashing against something sounding from the room. Richard
jumped to his feet, about to run down when I grabbed his wrist.
"Get out of my house!" Ma demanded. I recognised the tone of voice she used,
this was the same as when she tried to attack me, after Richard had announced
what he had done.
I smiled knowing that the flashbacks weren't coming, they were stuck on the
shelves, trapped inside a mind that would never let them free. No emotions to
get in the way of what I was doing, nothing to drive me to save her, nothing to
effect my judgement, just a stone cold heart.
Aunt May stomped towards the door, an angered groan as she went. Richard
continued to stand, my hand wrapped tight around his wrist. "I know what you
did." She stated, never turning to see us.
"Good bye, Aunt May." I spoke, each word dripping with sarcasm.
•••
'09:00 There's a problem, Mr. Moriarty. His brother works for the government.
Very minor position just above the mail room. He's pulled a few strings.'
'09:03 Details. -Moriarty.'
'09:12 Sherrinford Holmes has been sent to Winterfall. The man went insane,
having random breakdowns and harming himself. You truly broke him, sir. Mycroft
has set it up for him to leave tomorrow. Thirteen hundred hours.'
'09:15 Thank you, Augustus. Follow him until he leaves, and I want pictures. -
Moriarty.'
***** Nothing *****
Chapter Summary
     Eighteen and almost the most powerful man in England
Chapter Notes
     All translations are from google, I have no idea if they're right or
     not. I'll put a translation next to it, and the language it's written
     in.
     We're skipping ahead to eighteen year old Jim, this is the end of
     part one I suppose? The end of Jim's life. That's everything you need
     to know. How he got started and the rest of it. We're gonna be
     skipping to twenty four year old Jim next, Moran in the next chapter
     guys!
     Things will start getting darker again after this. Things will be
     brought up. These twenty chapters are going to have a big part to
     play in the rest of the story.
     Don't forget to comment and kudos and maybe even share it. I love
     reading your comments they make me so happy, I blush at every single
     on and have them all saved to my phone. I love you guys!
     Also Jim says you have to continue reading or he'll turn you into
     shoes! Not nice shoes either.
     (More notes at the end.)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 18
"Má isteach tú dom níos mó ama, an tUasal Deleo, déanfaidh mé cinnte go bhfuil
tú riamh a fheiceáil do leanaí arís!" (Irish: If you interrupt me one more
time, Mr. Deleo, I will make sure you never see your children again.) I
screamed at the man in front of me, his eyes going wide as the image appeared
on the screen behind me, two children huddled together in fear, a sniper
pointing straight at them. A.G.R.A had become very useful over the last year,
each of them efficient workers who followed orders well and never asked
questions.
"Le do thoil a dhuine uasail, logh dom. Ná ghortú iad." (Irish: Please sir,
forgive me. Please don't hurt them.)He pleaded, his eyes filling with tears. I
laughed, slamming my fists on the table, my eyes never leaving his.
"Tá tú ag obair dom. Má tá tú ag fuck suas, tá sé olc orm. Mar sin, a shórtáil
sé amach, roimh I ndáiríre dúnmharú do pháistí!" (Irish: You work for me. If
you fuck up, it looks bad on me. So sort it out, before I really do murder your
fucking children!)
Mr. Deleo nodded hurridly his eyes focused solely on the children behind me.
"Good, a fháil anois amach as mo radharc." (Irish: Good, now get out of my
sight.)
He scurried out of the room and dived through the front door of my office
building, sprinting to the car I had waiting for him. I watched as he
disappeared, following the car with my eyes as I stared out of the window. "Bit
harsh wasn't it sir?" Rosamund questioned, entering the room.
"I don't pay you to judge me, Rosie." I snapped, and crossed the room to sit at
my desk. I had spent most of my days learning ten different languages and the
rest organising the largest crime ring in England. Richard and I drifted apart
since I no longer relied on him to keep me sane and Ma had started travelling
and was rarely home.
McAdams had unfortunatly passed after a heart attack, his own fault really, he
shot up three times too much heroin and tried to fix it himself. Spencer now
ran that part of my empire. I was making money than I knew what to do with,
four houses, eight safe houses and a holiday home in Ireland, my home town of
Dublin. I didn't get there often but it was always nice to go back to the place
that I had grown up, before the age of ten. When life was simpler, before
school got in the way.
My mind palace had expanded to being eighteen rooms, each one filled with
information. A whole room just dedicated to the languages I had learned,
another to psychology and another to the TV shows I was currently watching.
I had a whole team that watched the remaining Holmes brothers and I now owned
the asylum Sherrinford was occupying. They took good care of him, keeping him
insane without the knowledge of his brother. Mycroft had slowly built his way
up to being a rather powerful member of the government, although he would never
admit to it, and William was now going by Sherlock. They weren't very close
after Mycroft had Redbeard, Sherlock's pet dog, put down. The poor thing. It
was my fault of course. I had the dog shot in the leg.
It killed me to give the order don't get me wrong. I was a psychopath but I had
morals. I never hurt kids, I used them to threaten people but I'd never hurt
them. I also never hurt animals. So ordering someone to shoot a dog, an
innocent creature, was the hardest thing I ever had to do.
"The team and I have a job over seas tomorrow, James. We'll be back in a few
days. If you need anything, I have wrote down the contact to a brilliant guy I
know." Rosie interrupted, knocking me out of my head and ruining my filing.
"Thank you Rosie. You can go home now, I won't be needing your assistance
tonight."
"Good night then, sir." She smiled, pulling out her phone before she had even
turned to leave the room. Probably making plans for the night.
"Good night."
Chapter End Notes
     Very short chapter to end part one of this story. Next chapter will
     be Mormor. I'm actually quite excited to start it, it's like starting
     a brand new story. So yeah. I'll probably write it either later
     tonight or tomorrow.
     Don't forget comment and kudos.
     Instagram: jimmoriartyxo
     Twitter: JimMoriartyxo
***** Mormor *****
Chapter Summary
     Jim meets Sebastian, and he's more like his uncle than he thought.
Chapter Notes
     So this is sort of a part two of this story. Sebastian is now canon
     (to this book only, because apparently it's too much to ask Mofftiss
     to write him into Sherlock...) I swear I'm not bitter.
     In case anyone is wondering after Jim shoved his memories of his
     father into the book, he never thought of them again and forgot them.
     He no longer remembers what his father had done to him, because he
     never looked in those books ever again. No mentions the events of his
     father believing its a 'touchy subject' after Richard told them about
     the nightmares and panic attacks.
     He does remember that he killed his dad but his memory of it is a
     little different. He thinks it's because he found out about his
     empire and was threatening to expose him.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 24
It was late and I had just finished yet another meeting with the Spanish mafia.
They had a slight problem with distribution and needed a 'consultant' as they
had so delicately put it. My actual job was to locate the reason for these
problems, and kill it. Literally. Thankfully that didn't mean leaving the
country.
I breathed in the cold night air, fixing my suit jacket and walking towards my
car. Things were more relaxed now, the empire practically running itself.
"Hello, sir." Bill, my driver, greeted me. I nodded, as he opened the door for
me, my tired eyes already slipping closed. "Back to the office, or are we done
for the day?" He questioned.
"We're done, Bill. I wouldn't mind heading to a bar though. I could do with a
drink." I mumbled, leaning my head back in my seat, eyes shut tight. "Care to
join me?"
"I have to drive sir." He said simply, closing the door and walking around to
the drivers seat. I nodded and continued to sit back, enjoying the silence that
had filled the car, before staring out the window.
The streets were empty and an orange glow covered everything as we sped through
the streets. Slowly getting closer to the centre of London. There were more
people here, some groups of girls out to celebrate hen parties, birthdays and
guys celebrating stag do's and that days football results. Each one of them
stumbling and swaying with the effects of the alcohol within their system.
We turned another corner, a street of loud clubs and rowdy teenagers. I had
never seen the joy in getting drunk and making a show of yourself. It never
appealed to me. Plus the effects of a hang over the next day, it all sounded so
pointless.
"Wait, stop here." I told Bill as we passed an alleyway. He complied, stopping
the car instantly. I swung the door open, jumping out the cold air quickly
hitting my skin. I made my way closer to the alley, watching as the man tripped
over his own feet, obviously drunk. I laughed, deciding that the best way to do
this was pretending to be drunk myself.
"Hey mate!" I called out, slurring my words and stumbling forwards. He jumped
slightly, turning around in a panic and staring at me with wide eyes. "You're
that..." I hiccuped, getting closer to him, wrapping an arm around his
shoulder. "You're that government guy, aren't ya'." I stated, poking his chest
with my index finger.
"What's it to you, kid?" He questioned, he obviously wasn't as drunk as I was
pretending to be, but I could smell the strong scent of liquor on his breath.
"You're not... Not particularly liked, are you?" I laughed. He pushed me off
him, and I walked back three steps, regaining my balance and leaning on the
wall beside me. "You're gonna die tonight." I told him, before I burst into a
fit of laughter.
The man looked at me, his face dropping to an expression of fear and confusion.
"I could probably snap you with my pinky finger, now fuck off." He snapped,
waving his hand and going to turn around again.
"Oh I'm not going to kill you. He is." I smirked, falling forwards and catching
his wrist, pulling him back. "Right there, hiding on that fire escape. Do you
see him?" I asked. He searched the darkness, his eyes darting left and right as
he searched for the assassin.
"You shouldn't joke about these things, kid. Could get you into serious
trouble." He laughed nervously, a thin layer of sweat now covering his
forehead, body trembling. It was beautiful to watch.
"I'm not joking. Hey Mr. sniper dude, can you fire a warning shot? I'll give
you two thousand pounds, I have it here!" I grinned, holding out a rather large
amount of cash, that was probably more than two thousand. It was probably a bad
idea though, since the warning shot went straight through the centre of the wad
of cash. "Told you so." I whispered in the man's ear.
He stared at the hole in the bills, his eyes darting between the area the shot
had been fired and the cash. I straightened myself up, dropping the green
pieces of paper, along with the drunk act. "You can shoot him now, he's boring
me." I called out, stepping away from the target.
Within seconds a shot was fired, bullet hurdling towards the guys heart. I
watched closely, the piercing scream that came from him as the bullet ripped
through his skin, embedding itself in his heart, before promptly reappearing
from behind him. Very little blood sprayed out, the rest seeping through the
wound and slipping down his skin, soaking through his white shirt. His last
breath was weak as he fell to his knees all the strength leaving his body, eyes
never leaving mine until he finally hit the ground going limp.
I grinned, kneeling beside him and snapping a quick photograph on my phone.
"You're a pretty good shot." I complimented the shooter who was now stood
behind me.
"And you owe me two thousand quid. You could've been killed!" He yelled,
readjusting the duffel bag on his shoulder.
"Names Moriarty, you are?" I smiled, fishing a hand into my pocket and pulling
out a few more pieces of paper. I counted them out slowly, awaiting his
response, but not daring to look up at him.
"Sebastian Moran." He informed me through gritted teeth. My body went tense,
the name sounding so familiar, but why? I'd have to work it out later on.
"Well Mr. Moran, you certainly are one hell of a shot, are you free lance?" I
asked, handing over the two thousand, and a bit extra for getting in the way.
He counted it himself, not bothering to question about the extra, probably not
caring.
"What's it to you?" He argued, looking around the small alley we were in and
making sure we were still alone.
"I'll be in touch, Moran." I winked at him as I passed, nudging him with my
shoulder and heading towards the car again. "You might want to run, the police
are on their way."
•••
I went straight home after that, no longer needing a drink. It was dark and
lonely within the penthouse apartment I had bought, the silence comforting. I
walked through to my bedroom not bothering to turn the lights on, and changed
into a pair of sweats, actually quite glad to get out of the suit I was
wearing.
Sebastian Moran. Why was his name so familiar? I flopped down on the bed,
closing my eyes and entering my mind, the many books that lined the walls
coming into view. Moran. Moran. Moran. I thought searching through the many
titles, each one completely useless in this situation.
Theodore Moran? I thought as I came across another. Shot my father after he
found out about the empire, made it look like a suicide, I helped get his
brother out of prison. Second degree murder, framed, hospitalised, out by the
Friday. Two younger sons. Twins. Severin and John Sebastian.
That was it! I threw the book back on the shelf, quickly coming back to
reality, sitting up straight on the bed like a vampire would in his coffin. "I
got him into the army. He knows me as Smith!" I yelled, thankful I lived alone.
I jumped off the bed, running through to my kitchen and sitting at the table,
my laptop sitting in front of me. I needed more information on him. The
computer took forever to load, each second ticking by that could be used to
find answers to questions I had.
Finally it loaded, the usual forum I used already on my home screen. '05:32 I
need information on John Sebastian Moran. Everything you find send to me. - M'
Within minutes I had his life story, slowly storing everything away.
•••
Name: Colonel John Sebastian Moran
Age: 27
Career: Ex-soldier, currently a gun for hire.
Fired from the military after 'going insane'. Apparently he enjoyed killing
people too much and it made the other members of his team uncomfortable. He
then tried to kill one of his privates. He was sent home to London where he
turned to crime.
Younger brother, twin, named Severin Moran. Severin works for a rather large
trading company. Still very close to his brother, disapproves of his actions.
Father, Sir Augustus Moran, another military man. Wrongly sent to prison for a
second degree murder, managed to get it thrown out of court after a lack of
evidence against him. Eventually completely cleared after a confession was made
by Mr. Roderick Davis.
No history of any crimes, medical records clear. Family is also quite powerful
owning an awful lot of land and several businesses, well respected and
extremely rick. Very humble.
Chapter End Notes
     Don't forget to comment and kudos. I apologise again for how long it
     took me to get to Sebastian but here he is!
***** Moran *****
Chapter Summary
     Sebastian is curious about Jim.
Chapter Notes
     One of chapter in Sebastian's POV. I might do a few more in future
     but I'm not sure? Let me know what you guys think.
     Drug use in this chapter, continue at your own risk. I do not
     encourage drug use either guys. Please don't take drugs. Also if
     anything is wrong bare in mind I've never done heroin, never intend
     to either. I just read a few peoples accounts on how they described
     it. So yeah...
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Name: Sebastian Moran
Age: 27
"Moriarty?" I questioned, staring at the wad of cash spread out across the end
of the mattress I was sitting on. The name sounded so familiar, but I couldn't
think why. It was Latin I knew that. Usually separated into three words though,
mori art ti. To die was an art. Poetic. Obviously not his real name.
I groaned, and stood up walking across the room to find my phone. A numbed I
had never messaged, but a man I once requested the service of. Theodore said
anything. Maybe it wasn't just a one time offer. Smith. Who was he? In all the
years I had searched I had never found him and now here I was about to text a
man I had never seen. Never even heard spoken off apart from that one frightful
night that I got my father back.
And what a horrible night that was.
'05:32 Hello. I don't know if this number is still in use and I don't know if
you would help me out again. I hope you will though. I met a guy tonight, bit
strange, goes by the name Moriarty. You couldn't help me find out some
information on him? -Sebastian Moran.'
I typed it out but I couldn't bring myself to press send. Could I trust this
guy? Before it was nothing more than a mere job I was asking him to help me
with. Now I was a wanted hit man, living in drug dens and shooting up whenever
I had the chance, for all I know this guy could be FBI. I doubt it though. He
had to be just as sleazy. He did after all, edit the police records and get my
uncle out of prison.
Plus he knew uncle Theo. That was never a good sign. Although he didn't realise
it, we all knew what he did for a living. It was actually him who killed the
guy that my father went to prison for. I don't know how they got a confession
out of the other guy, I suppose the murder of a simple criminal was better than
the murder of whoever he did actually kill. He'd probably get the death penalty
for that one.
I took a deep breath, pacing the room a couple of times, before hitting send.No
going back now.
I slumped back down on the mattress, my back resting against the wall, the
paint chipping off and dusting over my shoulder. "One hit, and then sleep." I
said to myself, gathering up the money currently covering the floor, and
shoving it in my duffel bag, securing it with a padlock.
I sat back, taking the syringe in hand, allowing it to shine in the light of a
streetlamp just outside the window. I had kept my drug use quiet since I left
the army, none of my clients suspected anything, none of them could tell once
they put a job offer on the table. They didn't care either, so long as they got
their kill, they didn't care who fired the shot.
I didn't bother trying to get my vain up, shooting directly into the vain was
no fun. Anticipation was what I enjoyed, waiting for that first hit to kick in.
The feeling of euphoria when it did, how you could feel it come crashing over
you like a wave. It was worth every second of the wait.
I placed the needle against my arm, the tip of it just barely touching my skin,
before sliding it in. The cold metal penetrating my body and sending shivers
down my spine. This was better than any cock in the world. The sharp pain as it
rested and I allowed my skin to stop tingling.
I waited, my breathing steady and an eerie calmness falling over the room. It
was like waiting for the jump scare in a movie, but it never came. The build up
so perfect, so tense. When my phone alerted me to a text.
I threw my head, banging it slightly against the wall and causing more flecks
of white paint to fall around me. Maybe I could ignore it? But what if it's
Smith? Just wait until after I take this hit, then I'll reply while I wait. No
I can't do that, it would be a bad idea.
Eventually I decided to read the message. I balanced the syringe on my arm,
making sure it didn't slip out, a trickle of blood falling down from where I
had torn the skin.
'05:59 Moriarty. Business man, runs a rather large empire. Drug cartels and
organised crime. Connections with many powerful people. No information on his
past, no alias' and no immediate associates, any reason you're asking?'
The information was vague but I knew something now. I at least knew who he was.
'06:03 Met him tonight. Any idea of his first name? Maybe something to help
give me a clue to what he wants?' I responded with, deciding to wait for a
reply, before going back to my business.
'06:08 Nothing about a first name here. He does a lot of recruitment, half of
London's crime is orchestrated by him. Perhaps he's after you for a job? I
suggest you take it, especially if you want to get anywhere in this career of
yours.'
Great, now even a guy I've never met is judging me. I rolled my eyes at the
text and locked the phone, deciding not to reply to him again. Crime lord. What
would he want with a simple sniper? Especially to warrant enough interest to
tell me his name. My clients never spoke their name, it was a unspoken
contract, that way I could never give them up for the crime.
I shrugged, allowing my attention to turn back to the piece of metal sticking
into my arm. Now I could relax. I took a long, deep breath, wrapping my fingers
around the plunger and emptying my mind. Three, two, one. I thought before
pushing it down. Now it was a waiting game. It usually only took three to four
minutes to kick in, since becoming a gun for hire, I was able to afford some
pretty good shit.
I discarded the needle to the side of the mattress, moving so I was lay down,
my eyes fixed on the ceiling above me. I continued to focus on my breathing,
each breath taking me slightly closer to the eventual bliss that would overcome
me. The night air blowing through the broken window causing me to shudder.
"I'll be in touch." Those four words rang through my head, the thick Irish
accent filling me with warmth. I had always had a fondness for accents,
especially Irish. What did he mean though? A job offer? Maybe a threat? He only
looked to be a kid though, couldn't be older than twenty. Could he?
I shook the thoughts from my head, relaxing again, waiting. The pleasure was
starting. I could feel my body fall limp, the sensation of being rocked gently
as my mind went blank. My eyes fluttered closed as I experienced the full
effect, the sudden explosion of fulfilment as I lay there.
My lips parted as I could feel my body tingling, warmth surrounding me and
protecting me from the harsh winter weather. Everything seemed to float away,
not a care in the world as I gently slipped into the darkness. The whole world
didn't matter in that moment, no. In that moment all that mattered was me.
Chapter End Notes
     I really hoped you liked this chapter guys! It was rather fun to
     write as the lovely Sebastian Moran. Let me know if you want more Seb
     chapters! Also once again I do not recommend/condone using drugs,
     unless they are prescribed to you.
     Comment, kudos and share <3
     Mori art ti!
***** Jobs *****
Chapter Summary
     Jim and Sebastian's first job together. Sebastian knows Russian?
Chapter Notes
     Before anyone asks, I decided to write down the dialog in the
     language because I enjoy learning languages so I figured I'd try and
     learn some phrases while I wrote this. I'm currently learning German,
     but Russian is my next goal!
     The translation is in the brackets though and it's italic so you can
     just skip over the change of language if you like.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
It had been a week since I had any contact with Sebastian. He hadn't questioned
any more about who I was, he didn't even message 'Smith' back, and I assumed he
had just gotten busy, until I spotted him at the local bar.
"Should you really be drinking when you could have a possible job offer at any
moment?" I questioned, sneaking up behind him. Sebastian was startled, spinning
around in his chair and grabbing me by the collar of my shirt. "Now, come on
Sebastian. Is that any way to treat your new boss?"
Sebastian grunted, dropping me and grabbing his glass, swallowing half the
drink in one swift movement. "I don't work for you." He snapped, slamming the
now empty glass down on the wooden surface.
"You haven't even heard my offer." I pouted, pulling a card from my pocket, my
phone number scribbled on the back and the address of my office. "Call me when
you're in need of a job. I give you two weeks." I laughed. Sebastian screwed
the piece of paper up in his fist.
He didn't respond, just turned back to the bar, ordering another drink. I
watched as his sleeve moved up his arm, his jacket at least two sizes too
small. His veins were quite prominent, long blue lines standing out from the
pale skin. He was quite muscular, obviously strong and liked to work out, but
underweight. Malnourished would be a better word.
His short blond hair was unkempt and slightly overgrown, stubble covering his
chin and dark rings under his eyes. His lips were pale and chapped, and it was
very obvious he didn't have anywhere permanent to live.
"Is there a reason you're still here?" He growled, curling his hand around the
second glass. The brown liquid spinning around in a calming pattern. He didn't
turn to look at me, his eyes cast down to watch his drink.
"Just trying to figure you out a little more. I can't hire someone I can't
trust." I joked, "John Sebastian Moran. Ex army colonel, twin brother, assassin
for an uncle. Father wrongly convicted of a murder, you tried to kill one of
your privates in the forces for being a traitor and you're now a gun for hire."
He turned his head to look at me, his eyes narrowing. "You researched me?" He
demanded through gritted teeth, not really looking for an answer. "What do you
really want? You don't get in the way of a mans kill and then offer him a job
for nothing, so what do you want?"
"I need a body guard. My last one... She needed to go. You seem like a pretty
good choice. I also need a new sniper though, so which would you prefer?" I
spoke calmly, putting emphasis on each word.
"What could a kid like you, need a body guard for?" He laughed, throwing his
head back and finishing his second drink. "Bullies picking on you in school."
He teased, raising and eyebrow.
"You're on very thin ice, Moran. I will not hesitate to have you killed." I
spoke coldly. "How about I take you for a test run? One meeting, you do well
I'll work out a fair salary for you. You fuck up, and I'll turn you into a
throw rug for my living room."
"Look kid, I don't work for anyone. I'm freelance for a reason." He argued,
narrowing his eyes at me. I shook my head and laughed.
"Oh I know, you can't take orders. You almost knocked out a guard in prison
because of it. Maybe that's why you couldn't make it in your military career."
I blinked twice, trying to look as innocent as possible, hoping that I could
avoid getting punched.
"How did you-"
"Shush that's not important. Now you have five minutes to decide. I'll be in
the car outside. You can either come with me, or you can go back to your
pathetic little life." I turned on my heels, sauntering out of the building and
back to my car. Waiting. That was all I ever did now, just sat back and waited
for the next job that needed fixing. The next situation that needed handling.
Maybe I should find a hobby?
"I need to see Spencer, how's the traffic today?" I asked, Bill before climbing
into the back seat.
"Pretty heavy today, sir. Plus it's rush hour. I know of a short cut, but it
will still take us around an hour to get there." He informed me, shutting the
door and making his way to the drivers seat.
That was when Sebastian left the pub, his eyes catching mine. I gave a small
smile, tapping Bill on the shoulder and signalling for him to wait. The blond
stood there, his eyes never leaving mine, as I watched him battle with his own
thoughts. He raked a hand through his hair, turning as though to walk away,
before taking a step closer to the car, right foot, then left, then right,
left, right, left.
He stood there, his hand resting just above the handle of the door. "What's he
waiting for?" Bill whispered, still facing forward and watching the whole thing
from the side mirror, just out the corner of his eye.
Sebastian pulled the door open, sighing as he ducked his head down. "What's the
job?"
•••
"Dobryy den' g-n Trenton. I byli s neterpeniyem zhdu nashey vstrechi segodnya.
I nadeyus', chto vy ne protiv moyego tela okhrannika, g-n Naro." (Russian: Good
afternoon Mr. Trenton. I have been looking forward to our meeting today. I do
hope you don't mind my body guard, Mr. Narom.) I smiled, as I entered the room.
The short man didn't stand, he barely even raised his head from the stack of
papers in front of him.
"You know Russian?" Sebastian questioned, leaning over my shoulder slightly,
the scent of alcohol still lingering on his breath. I nodded, and waved my hand
telling him to be quiet before crossing the room.
"Vo vtoroy polovine dnya g-n Moriarti. Prostite menya za to ne stoit ya ispuga
zanyat. Yest' li zanyat' mesto, khotya, tak chto my mozhem nachat' etu
vstrechu. Yest' chto-nibud' ya mogu poluchit' tebya na puti, ili, vozmozhno, vy
mister Narom?" (Russian: Afternoon Mr. Moriarty. Do forgive me for not standing
I am frightfully busy. Do take a seat though, so we can start this meeting. Is
there anything I can get you by the way, or maybe you Mr. Narom?) He spoke with
a thick accent, his voice rough.
I sat down, Sebastian standing just slightly behind me, his hands clasped
together in front of him. "Khoteli by vy chto-nibud' mister Narom? Voda? Chay?
Kofe?" (Russian: Would you like anything Mr. Narom? Water? Tea? Coffee?) I
asked, crossing my left leg over my right.
"Net, ya dovol'no khorosho, spasibo." (Russian: No, I'm quite alright, thank
you.) My eyes widened slightly. He spoke so fluently, as if it was no effort at
all. It was like second nature to him, as though he was speaking his native
language. I had a feeling he knew some Russian, mostly because he had
recognised it so easily, but to actually be able to speak it.
Mr. Trenton looked up at this point, a small smile pulling at his lips. "Vy
znayete russkiy, mister Narom? YA vpechatlen, kak pravilo, prinosit Moriarti
idioty na eti vstrechi, kotoryye yedva znayut, kak skazat' privet." (Russian:
You know Russian, Mr. Narom? I'm impressed, usually Moriarty brings idiots to
these meetings, who barely know how to say hello.) I rolled my eyes, and
cleared my throat, indicating for them to shut up.
"Ty skol'zya, mister Trenton. YA nablyudal, kak vasha rabota pogruzhayut v
posledneye vremya, i ya zdes', chtoby ispravit' eto. Ukhod, chtoby ob"yasnit',
pochemu vy vnezapno prekratili postavki na severo-vostoke?"(Russian: You've
been slipping, Mr. Trenton. I've watched as your work has dipped lately and I'm
here to rectify that. Care to explain why you have suddenly stopped supplying
to the north east?)
Mr. Trenton's eyes went wide again and his face dropped, all confidence he
originally had now gone. He knew what happened to people who disappointed me.
Unfortunately for him this was not something I could fix within a matter of
days. He had stopped supply completely. There was no way to get fifteen kilos
of this shit there by tomorrow. Never mind the rest of the shit that hadn't
been sent.
"YA sozhaleyu, ser, vy vidite, chto my ne imeli bol'shogo biznesa na severo-
vostoke v techeniye neskol'kikh mesyatsev. Nikto ne khochet kokaina bol'she.
Eto skorost' i MDMA, chto kazhdyy teper' khochet. Tam prosto net biznesa tam."
(Russian: I'm sorry sir, you see we haven't had much business in the north east
for a number of months. No one wants cocaine anymore. It's speed and MDMA that
everyone wants now. There's just no business there.) He argued, completely
ignoring the stack of papers that he had been working through.
I rolled my eyes, rising to my feet and walking around the table. Mr. Trenton
sat back in his seat, anxiety sweeping over him. "U vas yest' nedelya, chtoby
ispravit' eto." (Russian: You have a week to fix it.) I threatened, placing my
hand on his face, and squeezing either side of his chin with my thumb and index
finger. "Ili Narom zdes' budet platit' vam vizit." (Russian: Or Narom here,
will be paying you a visit.)
I gave a small wink, knowing he would be unable to fix the little problem he
had caused, and turned around. "I v sleduyushchiy raz ya plachu vam vizit. Vy
budete stoyat' i proyavlyat' uvazheniye." (Russian: And next time I visit,
you'll stand and show respect.)
I threw his papers to the ground, pulling a match out and striking it.
Sebastian gave me a knowing look, taking a few steps back and watching as I
threw the little stick onto the ground. "Toodles." I laughed, as it went up in
flames.
Mr. Trenton ran round his desk attempting to put out the flames as I walked
away, Sebastian holding the door open for me.
"I think I'll take the job sir." He laughed, following me out of the building
and into the street.
"I thought you might say that. Be at this address at eight o'clock tonight. You
will shower and shave before changing into the suit I will have ready for you,
before accompanying me to the Spanish mafia's ball. You will not be able to
bring a gun of course so I am hoping you know other ways to deflate a
situation. We will then discuss the business of your salary and I will give you
the full information of your job. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal, sir." He smirked. I nodded, making my way to the car again as Bill
came to open the door.
"And one more thing. You can be replaced Mr. Moran. Don't think you're
special." I told him, pulling my phone out. "Oh and the names James by the way.
James Moriarty."
Chapter End Notes
     Please let me know what you think of this story guys. I have some
     brilliant ideas, and it will follow the story line to all four series
     aswell, but it will be told from Jim's POV and shit. Trust me I know
     what I'm doing.
     Also OMFG THE LYING DETECTIVE TELL ME EROS ISN'T SHERRINFORD! WHY
     WOULD MYCROFT CONTINUE TO CALL HER SHERRINFORD IF HE KNEW SHE WAS
     CALLED EROS? IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE MYCROFT NOT BEING POLITE AND
     REFUSING TO CALL HER EROS MAKES NO SENSE AND WILL DESTROY ME! PLEASE
     SOMEONE EXPLAIN!!!
***** Ball *****
Chapter Summary
     Jim finds out that Sebastian looks awful good in a suit.
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
Eight o'clock came and I was sat in the car outside of the hotel that Sebastian
was staying in. I had left instructions on the bed as to what he was to do, and
I hoped he had followed them all correctly.
I began to grow impatient as the clock turned to show a minute had passed. I
liked everyone I worked with to be on time and ready, I hated waiting,
especially when it came down to a job like this one. '08:02 Sorry boss, in the
lift now. -Moran.' I read at the top of my phone screen.
I rolled my eyes, not bothering to respond and turned my attention to the email
I had been reading. Trenton had sent two of his best guys to the North East to
deliver the gear like I had demanded. Twice as much as was previously demanded,
but somehow he had rectified the problem. Hopefully it would be there on time.
Sebastian rushed out of the hotel doors, hastily making his way towards the car
and taking a seat next to me. The cold air from outside, penetrating the warmth
from within the car. "You're late." I spoke, my eyes still completely focused
on the email, although I had already finished reading, and responding to it.
"Sorry. I was struggling with the tie." He admitted. I looked up, seeing that
he truly had struggled, the knot at the top being far too big and crooked. I
sighed, motioning for him to move closer, before fixing it for him, my hands
moving swiftly as I secured the now more presentable knot close to his throat.
"Er... Thanks." He mumbled, moving back to his seat and staring out the window.
"You don't happen to know Spanish as well do you?" I questioned, raising an
eyebrow as I shot a text to Don Diego alerting him to our current predicament.
I did hate to be late.
"Spanish? I'm not so good with the 'el' and 'la' but other than that..." He
trailed off, never turning back to face me. "I also know French, Hindi, Latin,
Russian, German, Swedish, Dutch, Chinese and Welsh. Oh and I was learning Irish
before I left the army." He spoke smugly.
"Great, I need a Dutch translator later this week." I smirked, and pulled out
the card I had prepared. "This is the guy I need killed, he's been stealing
money from me over the last several weeks. Don Diego has been informed of what
I have planned, and therefore has prepared a weapon for you, you only have one
bullet though; so make it count. We will then need an escape route, you have
one hour to work it all out whiles I fix another problem, clear?"
"Crystal." He spoke confidently, his lips twitching into a smile of sorts.
"Oh and don't let anyone see it was you who killed him. Just because the Don
knows doesn't mean everyone else does." Sebastian nodded understandably and
studied the card I had handed him, his eyes glancing over every inch of the
guys face.
"We've arrived." I announced as the car came to a halt, Bill stepping out and
opening my door for me, as Sebastian stepped out the opposite side. He shoved
the card into his pocket, clenching his hands into fists and letting them fall
at his sides. "One hour." I reminded him as we entered the tall building, the
cream walls giving me a headache and the bright lights already getting on my
nerves.
The Mafia Don's parties were always the best. Once a year he would invite
everyone around for drinks and drugs, and this was the reason I had showed up,
rather than ignoring his invite like every other year.
Sebastian Moran; avid drug user.
I hoped he could carry out a job and ignore the obvious triggers around the
room. He seemed fairly calm as we entered though. His eyes scanning the crowd
for his target. "
Moriarty, bueno verte! Y éste debe ser el Sr. Moran. ¿Hola como estas?
Bienvenido a mi casa, por favor ayúdate a cualquier cosa!" (Spanish: Moriarty,
good to see you! And this must be Mr. Moran. How are you? Welcome to my home,
please help yourself to anything!") He grinned.
Diego had aged a lot since I had last seen him, which was around the same time
I had started making a name for myself. "Diego! Qué bueno verte, gracias por
invitarnos. Me preguntaba sin embargo, ¿recived el paquete que le envié? Es muy
importante que recibamos todo esta noche. Nuestro marco de tiempo es muy
limitado" (Spanish: Diego! How good to see you, thank you for inviting us. I
was wondering though, have you recived the package I sent to you? It's very
important that we receive everything tonight. Our time frame is very limited.)
Diego nodded, motioning for us to follow as he manoeuvred his way through the
crowd, greeting people as he walked. Sebastian followed closely, his eyes still
scanning the room and I could see desperation growing beneath his skin. He
needed a fix. I had sent a man to watch him since we had met, each night
receiving the same report that he would find a run down house and shoot up. It
didn't surprise me. However, it did need to change.
"Espero que sea por ti, Moran. ¿Sabes manejar uno de estos, si?" (Spanish: I
trust this is for you, Moran. You do know how to handle one, yes?) Diego
questioned, pulling out a small revolver, the barrel a smooth silver colour
with an ivory handle, a delicate pattern cared into the side. Every inch
cleaned perfectly and inside, one small silver bullet.
"Sí señor. Entrenado durante ocho años para ser un francotirador, pero siempre
he preferido los cañones más pequeños. Hace la matanza más personal." (Spanish:
Yes, sir. Trained for eight years to be a sniper, but I always preferred the
smaller guns. Makes the kill more personal.) I smiled at his choice of words,
the sadistic side of Sebastian Moran showing through. The side that caused him
to get thrown out of the army.
We turned around, each of us tumbling back in to the hall where the ball was
being held. Sebastian stalked around the edges, the gun tucked tightly away
withing his jacket. His blond hair beginning to fall in front of his eyes as he
was pushed about, trying not to look to suspicious.
I made my way around the room as well, mingling with the crowd, every person I
spoke to more boring and stuck up than the last. My eyes almost fell out of my
head from rolling them so much.
"Have you done it yet?" I questioned, when I found myself standing next to
Sebastian again. He looked a little nervous his eyes darting around the room,
before finally settling on mine.
"He's dead. I figured hanging around for a little longer would be a good idea.
We can slip out at any time in the next five minutes, that's when they'll find
the body." He smiled, nodding his head towards the door. I had to admit even I
was impressed by his work ethnic.
"Let's go then. I can't handle another moment with these idiots." I told him,
turning on my heel and starting to walk towards the door. Sebastian slipped the
gun to Diego on his way out, saying a quick 'thank you' before catching up and
following me to the car. "You're rather good at this aren't you Moran? You can
stay at the hotel tonight, tomorrow I want you at this address, on time. We'll
discuss our further business together then."
Sebastian nodded, climbing into the back of the car, and shoving the card into
his pocket. Bill opened the door for me, allowing me to slide in next to the
taller man, phone already in hand and scrolling through emails.
"So why Moriarty?" Sebastian asked after a few moments, his eyes studying my
features for a response or a reaction of some kind. I shrugged, pulling my
headphones out of my pocket and shoving them into my ears.
"To die was an art."
***** Voices *****
Chapter Summary
     Sebastian is really struggling to cope.
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
I sat behind my desk, switching on the computer and typing in the password.
Sebastian should be in his room by now, and I was going to make sure he didn't
make any stupid mistakes. I needed to track down his dealer as well. We needed
to have a little... chat.
The security system wasn't hard to hack and I had placed my own cameras around
the room to watch his every move. I couldn't have my newest employee going
unwatched. The blond man came sauntering into the room, calm and confident as
he sat down on the couch. He seemed pleased with himself, the high from the
kill still coursing through his body.
I picked up my phone, searching through the contacts and sending an image to
Spencer. '11:20 I need to know who sold what to this guy. You have twenty
minutes. -James Moriarty.'
'11:23 Richards sold to him last week, names Sebastian Moran. Payed for both
heroin and cocaine. Payed fifty quid for three grams.' Spencer replied.
'Regular.' He added after a few seconds. I looked back up at the screen, seeing
the soldier rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
'11:25 I want Richards dead by tomorrow. Make sure no one sells to him. -James
Moriarty.'
I leaned back in the chair, placing my feet upon the desk and readjusting the
computer screen. The blond staring off into space, before making a move. "My,
my, Moran." I whispered, watching as he made his way to the bedroom, removing
his shirt and tossing it on the ground. His chest was muscular and covered in
scars, along with his silver dog tags falling in the centre.
His arms were just as muscular, and it was obvious he worked out, but they were
covered in rather dark scabs covering the inside of his arm and his veins close
to collapsing. He had been heavily addicted for around a year. He took care of
himself though. Eating right and staying hydrated, keeping clean.
As the soldier walked closer to the bed, he spotted the note I had left.
'You're not to leave this room unless I give you permission. No drugs, no
alcohol.' He rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of
his nose.
"Am I allowed to smoke?" He wondered aloud, throwing the piece of paper on the
bedside table and running a hand through his hair. I rolled my eyes, sitting
forward and pressing the button on the microphone.
"Only on the balcony." I informed him, my voice echoing through the room and
causing his to jump. His heart pounding as he tried to find the source of the
voice. Slowly turning to try and locate the source. "You didn't think I'd allow
you to be alone did you? I have to make sure you're trustworthy. Of course you
can leave at any time. You might end up dead if you do though."
"You're not a normal boss are you?" He questioned, sitting on the edge of the
bed, his adrenaline slowly starting to wear off, which meant he would start
craving the drugs again, any moment now.
"Not at all, but then you aren't quite the normal colonel are you, Moran?" I
smirked. He shrugged, a thin layer of sweat already starting to cover his skin.
He did his best to remain calm though, just staring at his hands in his lap.
"How did you know about the drugs?" He asked after a few moments of silence.
His head raising to look towards the door to the bedroom and raking a hand
through his hair.
"You buy from me, it's my gear you've been using. You won't be doing that again
though." I laughed. Sebastian stood slowly making his way to the bathroom, his
body going stiff and uncomfortable. "Tomorrow you will get two injections of
Methadone. One in the morning before you come to my office, and another in the
afternoon before our job."
I could hear as he heaved into the toilet, groaning as his stomach churned and
emptied it's contents into the bowl. "I suggest you get plenty of rest, this
week is going to be very painful." I laughed, enjoying the pleasure of
witnessing the pain he was going through.
Sebastian re-emerged, his eyes now blood shot and full of tears and a his voice
sounding raspy. "You're going to make me work through withdrawal?" He asked,
laying down on the bed, his feet still planted firmly on the floor to keep
himself grounded.
"Well it's the only way to ensure you'll never do it again." I laughed, as he
threw a pillow over his face. Pain was setting in badly now, and he would soon
feel like his entire body was on fire, every inch of his body stiff and unable
to move. "Would you like anything to drink, some food?"
Moran rolled onto his side, staring around the room, before his eyes fell on
the camera in the corner. "So you're watching as well as listening?" He
groaned, standing up, and carefully making his way closer to the device. "I
could do with pain killers if you're willing to let me have some."
"Why would I give you them? You deserve this pain, you got yourself into this
mess. I just wouldn't like to see you die from dehydration." I laughed, as his
knees almost gave out, and he fell against the wall beside him. "The only way
you're allowed to die is by my hand. Otherwise this little game isn't going to
be much fun."
Sebastian shrugged and stumbled back to the bed, lying down and resting his
head on the pillows. "I could do with a glass of water." He mumbled, barely
audible. I nodded, and pulled out my phone instructing someone to take water to
him, before taking one last look at the screen.
"Good night, Moran. There's some clothes in the wardrobe for you. Dress smart
tomorrow."
•••
I got home an hour later, flopping onto the couch and staring ahead. There were
no lights on again, and the whole house was silent apart from the sounds of the
wind blowing outside.
'12:32 Hey Rich. How've you been? Need to catch up soon. -James' I typed into
my phone, hesitating slightly, before deleting the message. He didn't want to
speak to me any longer, cutting off all contact with me after he was kidnapped
two years ago. It's hardly my fault that they thought he was me though, we're
twins.
I groaned and threw my head back, throwing the phone to the opposite side of
the couch. I was in for a long night. I jumped to my feet, scurrying over to
the liquor cabinet I kept in the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of scotch and
opening the top, drinking half the liquid in one quick swig.
Work was boring. I needed something better, something more fun. That's when an
idea came to mind.
I ran back to the couch, grabbing my phone and typing in the now unfamiliar
number. "Moriarty?" The woman's voice sang through the speakers.
"Ammo. I have a job for A.G.R.A if they're willing to take it." I smirked. Lets
see how much blood we can spill...
***** Suffer *****
Chapter Summary
     "Sadistic fuck."
     "Are you only just getting that now?"
Chapter Notes
     Once again, I don't condone drug use! (Unless medical and prescribed
     by a doctor) I also don't use drugs nor have I ever so once again all
     the things I write are just from forums' and NHS.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
When I awoke the next, the loud ringing in my ears and a horrible taste in my
mouth. The light burned as I opened my eyes, a horrid thumping in my head and
my whole body feeling stiff. Bottles of scotch and vodka littered the floor, as
I slowly shifted into a sitting position.
I yawned, rubbing my eyes, before resting my head in my hands. The previous
night was a blur and I could feel the room beginning to spin. My stomach
churning as I quickly rose to my feet, stumbling to the bathroom, using the
walls to keep me balanced. I lunged toward the toilet, heaving my stomach's
contents into it.
My throat stung and I could feel my eyes watering. Heart pounding and a cold
sweat covering my skin. I rolled over, leaning against the wall and throwing my
head back, eyes closed. "Never drinking again." I laughed, knowing full well I
was lying to myself.
I climbed to my feet, flushing the toilet and searching through medicine
cabinet for the painkillers. I popped one one, swallowing it down quickly,
before turning the shower on, brushing my teeth as I waited for it to warm up.
Steam clouding on the mirror and blurring the image of my face.
I stripped from yesterdays suit, looking down and tracing my hand across the
scars littering my body. The slightly paler flesh barely noticable anymore. I
sighed and shrugged to myself, stepping under the spray.
•••
I groaned walking into the office and sinking into the leather chair. The
curtains were drawn as I placed my head on the desk resting on my arms. I had
time to rest before Sebastian turned up, but I figured it would be best to
check he hasn't died, or been killed yet.
I was exhausted, forcing my body to sit up as I logged onto the computer. The
programme was already loaded and I could see the colonel laying on his back,
staring up at the ceiling. He looked pale, his body shaking visibly as he
struggled to breath. "Morning." I spoke, my accent thicker than it usually is.
Moran sat up, startled, before he realised who it was. His eyes fluttering
closed as he fell back again, a loud groan of pain escaping his lips.
"Morning." He whispered, and looked towards the camera, a thin layer of sweat
covering his forehead as he took a shakey breath. "What time do you want me at
your office?" He questioned, sitting up again, holding his stomach.
"Ten o'clock, you've got two hours until the car gets there." I informed him,
cringing at the sound of my voice and how loud everything sounded, echoing
through my ears. "You can take your methadone when you get here." I added,
watching as he struggled to his feet, falling forward and landing on his knees.
"Enjoying watching me struggle?" He joked, and crawled towards the bathroom.
"Very much." I laughed, as someone knocked on the door. Three knocks. Tea. I
allowed them to enter, pressing the buzzer on my desk to unlock the door, and
muted the computer as Sebastian climbed into the shower. "Thank you, Quinn. You
can leave now." I spoke to my secretary. Who coincidentally was also Spencer's
girlfriend.
"Richard called for you this morning, sir." She said, before turning away. "He
asked for you to call." I nodded, waving a hand to dismiss her, and turned my
attention back to the screen as a now clean shaven Sebastian Moran left the
bathroom. Towel wrapped around his waist, and many scars on show.
"Any chance of getting another glass of water?" He asked, rumaging through the
wardrobe. I typed out a text, sending someone to fetch him a drink and stiring
my tea. Within seconds there was a knock on the door, a young woman shuffling
into the room, pushing a trolley of food and drinks.
"What ever you want. I own the building." I told him, taking a sip of tea and
staring at my phone screen, Richard's number typed in. "I'll see you at ten.
Dress smart." I snapped, and muted the computer again, switching off the
microphone.
"James?" Richard's voice sang through the phone.
"Hey Rich, what's up?" I asked, putting my feet up and trying to sound normal,
not wanting to hear him complaining about how much I drank. All the while my
eyes were fixed on the screen before me, Sebastian now dressed and fumbling
with his tie.
"Nothing, mum got home last night, she was wondering if you wanted to come for
tea this week?" He asked. I pinched the bridge of my nose as Sebastian gave up
on his tie, throwing it on the bed, and flipping me off.
"Sure. Just let me know when." I responded, looking towards the door where
Quinn was knocking again. I rolled my eyes, pressing the buzzer and allowing
her in, the silence from the phone beginning to grow awkward.
"Alright, great. I'll text you. I've gotta go sorry, I'm on my way to work." He
panicked. I hummed and hung up without saying goodbye, and threw my phone down
on the desk, rubbing my eyes.
"I brought pain killers, sir. I was also wondering if I could finish early this
evening. It's Spencer and I's anniversary and we were hoping to..."
"Sure, that's fine. I won't be working late tonight, anyways." I told her,
taking the small box of pills from her hand and popping two out, and placing
them on my tongue. "I have a visitor arriving at ten o'clock, if you could let
me know when they get here." I informed her, my eyes glancing to the computer
screen again, the blond now throwing up again in the bathroom.
Quinn nodded, her hair falling in front of her eyes as she collected the empty
tea cup from my desk. "Thank you sir, I'll let you know." She smiled, and
turned leaving me alone in the darkened office.
"Is it really nessacery to keep me in this state?" Sebastian complained,
curling up in a ball, his knees pulled up to his chest and glass of water in
hand. His body was shaking again and I could see him suffering from the pain.
This was only day one though. This wasn't the worst of it, and I actually felt
quite excited to see how much more torture I could put him through.
"I can't have a bodyguard who's off his face every night!" I snapped, as though
he didn't know that anyways. It probably wasn't smart to have one with
withdrawals either. This was nessesary though. He was a Moran after all.
Sebastian shook his head, taking a sip of water and shakily placing it next to
him, water spilling over the edge and splashing onto the floor. His breathing
was irregular and I started to worry he might have a heart attack if I didn't
give him the medication soon, but he needed to suffer. He needed to get clean.
The blond man rose to his feet after another half hour, his body weak and I
could see the look of pain in his eyes. "The cars on it's way. I might just
make you suffer longer for being so disappointing." I laughed, following him
through to the living room.
"Sadistic fuck." He commented, his words laced with venom.
"Are you only just getting that now?"
Chapter End Notes
     https://38.media.tumblr.com/7ca91cf093b4212951fac3202c9ac718/
     tumblr_n7wgmkijQG1qda69uo2_500.gif
     ^Jim's face as he watches Sebastian struggling^
     Don't forget to comment! Kudos! Share! and follow me on instagram and
     twitter to know when I update, which is sadly becoming less and less
     because I'm busy :( sorry guys.
     Promise you there will be more action in the next chapter!
     ALSO WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT ANOTHER SEB CHAPTER? PROBS NOT THE NEXT
     CHAPTER, BUT MAYBE IN FUTURE? OR JUST STICK WITH JIM?
***** Withdrawal *****
Chapter Summary
     Sebastian is struggling with his withdrawals, and Jim's had enough of
     it.
Chapter Notes
     I DON'T CONDONE DRUGS!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
Nine o'clock came and went and my eyes were starting to droop. I just wanted to
sleep. Sebastian continued to sit on the floor, rocking back and forth and
mumbling to himself, his eyes drooping and head falling back every so often.
His body was shaking and his hair was starting to stick to his forehead, face
pale as though he had just seen a ghost. This wasn't what you would picture
when you thought of a Colonel. Nor was it someone you would picture to be a
deadly assassin. Suffering wonderfully with his withdrawals.
Watching Sebastian's pain helped me to take the focus away from my own.
"Another glass?" I questioned as the blond placed the, now empty, glass of
water on the ground. Sebastian jumped at the sudden sound of my voice, his head
snapping up to look at the camera in the corner of the room. His eyes were
bloodshot eyes, cheeks red and lips bloody from biting them.
"I'm fine." He snapped, and looked away, his gaze falling on the clock above
the door. "When's the car getting here?"
"Twenty minutes." I informed him. The sniper nodded, gripping the bed sheets as
he struggled to his feet. I watched him as he dragged his feet across the
carpet, falling against the door frame, completely out of breath.
Sebastian slowly made his way towards the balcony, his body swaying from side
to side and using the wall to keep him standing. "Smoke." He said simply,
before opening the large doors, the air bellowing through.
I didn't respond, just watched his every movement, eyes fixed on his as he took
each drag. The smoke slowly pushing it's way through his lips and floating in
front of him. Each white puff curling and dancing against the cold air of the
outside world.
•••
The three knocks startled me, jumping back from the desk and my heart racing. I
had fallen asleep. I rubbed my eyes, stifling a yawn and stretched. Ten
o'clock. It hadn't been too long, but I didn't have time to compose myself, I
had a meeting.
I pressed the buzzer, unlocking the door, and leaning back in my chair. Eyes
still heavy and readjusting to the darkened room. Quinn entered, her lips
curled into a friendly smile, hair neatly tied back and lipstick looking
freshly applied. "Mr. Moran here to see you, sir." She informed me, moving to
the side and gesturing for the man to enter.
His body was still weak, shaking and pale, with large purple bags under his
eyes and hair a mess. The smell of smoke filled the room as he walked towards
the desk, struggling to keep his posture and hide the pain he was in.
I stayed silent, looking him up and down and dragging out the moment. His body
fighting to stay up, and legs about to give way any second, when I smiled.
"Take a seat." I spoke, just before his knees buckled, and he fell into one of
the leather chairs. His breathing now slightly out of sync and a groan of pain.
"Good morning, Moran."
"Moriarty." He spoke, his voice weak and raspy.
"So you probably want to go over your salary first, what would think would be a
fair price? Two thousand a week?" I asked, shuffling a few papers, barely
glancing up at him. He sank further into the chair with another groan of pain,
curling in on himself.
"I'd prefer a hit right now, if I'm honest." He half-joked. I rolled my eyes,
spinning in the chair a little, and jumping to my feet. The medication was
already prepared and placed in a drawer in the corner of the room. One for each
day of the week. The other hit he would receive was at the hotel.
"Well there will definitely be no hits while you're working for me." I smirked,
opening the wooden compartment and pulling out the shining piece of metal. The
clear liquid trapped inside. "So what do you say, two thousand? Three?"
"You can't possibly afford two thousand pound a week!" He laughed, before a
sharp pain crashed through his body and he curled in on himself again. I
shrugged, shutting the drawer quietly and turning to face him, the medical
equipment carefully held in the palm of my hand.
"I wouldn't offer you it, if I couldn't afford it." I said, narrowing my eyes
and walking towards him. "So name your price."
"Two thousands fine." He spoke after a moment to consider. I nodded, stabbing
the cold metal into his arm, not caring where, but never allowing the liquid to
leave. He jumped a little at the sharp pain, tearing the skin slightly and
causing a drop of blood to squeeze out, slowly dripping down his arm.
"You're not the nicest person ever." I said, rolling my eyes so hard I was
surprised they didn't detach and roll back into my skull.
"Shut up and just let me have the Methadone." He snapped, moving his hand to
grab the syringe. I stabbed it further into his arm, causing him to flinch, and
to drop his arm back to his side, staring up with pleading eyes.
He flinched again, closing his eyes as tight as possible, and shaking as his
whole body tensed. It was pathetic.
I rolled my eyes again, pressing the plunger in and allowing the medication to
flow through his body, slowly relieving his symptoms. I threw the syringe into
the bin beside my desk, moving round to sit down again. Sebastian would take at
least ten minutes to relax enough to continue our conversation.
His body continued to shiver, eyes drooping as the medication began to take
affect. Muscles loosening and the tiredness he was currently feeling swooping
over his body. "I suppose you have questions?" I told him, phrasing it as a
question more so than a statement.
Sebastian nodded, sitting up in the chair and taking a few breaths. "Why the
cameras?" He asked first, his eyes falling on the computer in front of me. I
sat back in the chair, resting my feet on the desk before me and resting my
hands on my stomach, fingers laced together.
"You're an avid drug user, you don't really think I'm going to allow you to be
alone do you?" I spoke calmly, almost as if discreetly telling him he was an
idiot. I mean the reason was obvious, wasn't it?
"How d'ya know about the drugs?" He asked next, this time his gaze meeting
mine. I shrugged, giving a small laugh before putting my feet down and leaning
forward, arms now rested on the table.
"I could see the marks covering your arms when we first met. Your clothes were
a mess and I could see you hadn't been home in a while. Not because you were
working, you were desperate for that kill, so you needed the money. You didn't
seem to be a heavy drinker, or at least not an alcoholic. You could hold your
liquor, I could tell that from the stench of alcohol on your breath and the
fact you still made a perfect shot.
"Your eyes have large bags under them, not from lack of sleep, but from not
taking care of yourself. Your sickly pale skin and thin figure both pointed to
drug use, but your muscle mass told me it wasn't a long standing problem, maybe
a few months. The look from your arms though told me at least a year.
"I then sent out a photo of you to my cartel. Turns out you've been buying my
gear, your dealer works for me. Proved my theory to be correct and therefore
caused him his death. Also the reason you're now sat there high on methadone
and not heroin or cocaine."
Sebastian stared at me, his mouth gaping as he registered everything I had told
him. I could see in his eyes as he connected the pieces together, each point I
had made fitting like a jigsaw piece in his mind, until a look of realisation
came over him. "So you run a cartel?"
I nodded, shrugging my shoulders. "Drug cartel, Chinese smuggler ring, arms
dealerships, a few clubs, I have ties to many different gangs and mobs and I
have several snipers to loan out. Along with several information centres around
London."
"You're a kid though!" He argued. I rolled my eyes again, and shook my head as
the blond tried to register what was going on. "You can't have become that
successful. I'd have heard of ya!"
"I have many names Moran. The most common code name is 'M'." I informed him,
before he jumped to his feet. 'M' was the name most people chose to use. It was
the name people could use in conversation and no one would ever click, it was
such a common letter that only those who were involved knew who 'M' actually
was, even if we had never met.
"Now, about this afternoons job..." I grinned. Sebastian tried to compose
himself, his hand gripping his shirt as he began to hyperventilate.
"No. You're a kid. You can not... I always promised I wouldn't... I can't..."
He argued with himself, glancing up at me every so often. "Fine. I can do
this," He finally mumbled, sitting back in his seat. "What's the job?"
Chapter End Notes
     https://zippy.gfycat.com/AfraidCookedAnkolewatusi.gif
     ^Jim watching Sebastian as he suffers^
     What do you think guys? Comment and stuff. I'm so excited I'm going
     to see TFP in the cinema tomorrow and I can't wait :-)
***** AGRA *****
Chapter Summary
     He might've been drunk, but Jim remembers his plan
Chapter Notes
     In honour of the final episode...
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
Sebastian had relaxed a lot since his first dose. His body was slumped down in
the leather chair, pain now alliviated and no longer flinching every couple of
seconds. His eyes were drooping as he studied the card between his fingers and
his breathing a lot more steady. "Rosemund Mary. She's a member of a group of
assassins known as A.G.R.A, ever heard of them?" Sebastian shook his head,
quickly glancing at my face before looking down at the card again.
"They worked for me when I was starting out. Killing and torturing those who
got in the way. Not as good a shot as you I can assure you that, but they were
good." I informed him, pulling out another card and sliding it across the
table. "Ajay. Another member."
Sebastian picked it up, raising an eyebrow but keeping his mouth shut. Eyes
flitting over the card as he studied the subjects face. "They betrayed me,
causing most of my empire to crumble. Having to start from scratch again while
being on the run." I stood up walking around the room, pouring myself a glass
of whiskey and a glass of water for the sniper. "Alex." I told him, slipping
another picture between his fingers.
"They informed the English mafia of my ties to their greatest enemies." I
continued through gritted teeth. The memory was not something I was fond of.
"Gabriel." Another card. Sebastian continued to stay silent, his lips pursed as
he looked over the photos in his hand, balancing the glass in the other.
"The mafia came looking for me, they found Richard first. My twin." I sat down
again, taking a sip from my drink. "Tortured him for weeks, until I could find
them. There's no longer an Enlish mafia, and soon there will be no A.G.R.A."
The memory was seeded into my mind, and I could see the look of pain and fear
in Richards eyes. The way he screamed as they hit him again, burning his flesh
and scaring his skin.
"So what's the plan?" Sebastian finally spoke, breaking me out of the memories,
and shoving the photos into his pocket, swallowing a mouthful of water. I gave
a cynical grin, hiding the emotions I had spent so long burying deep down
inside, and spinning round in the chair removing a file from the bookcase.
"The group has been in India for a few days before making their way back to
England. When they arrive I have set up a job for them. During which they will
be ratted out. That's where you come in." I gave a small laugh, pushing the
file towards him and opening the first page. "This is everything you need to
know. I need Alex dead before the job. He's the one who will know that they've
been ratted and therefore the biggest plot hole."
"What about this one. Seems intelligent, she's the one who came up with the
mafia plan." He asked, pointing to Rosemund, reading the notes I had scribbled
down beside her. I nodded, turning the page and pointing to a row of flats.
"If you hide here you'll have the perfect shot for when they arrive. Take
Rosamund out here and the rest will be easy." I spoke carefully. "Ajay is the
strength of the group. He's awfully stupid and not too good with a gun, but
he's good for tortureing people. Gabriel is a tech freak. He's a hacker."
"It'll be easy then." The blond smirked, stretching his back and rising to his
feet. "When do they get back?" He questioned, placing his glass down on my
desk.
"Three O'clock." Sebastian nodded, thinking through the plan. "I have a gun for
you, you just need to be ready." I told him and skipped towards the closet at
the back of the room. Sebastian followed at a distance, his arms crossed over
his chest and waiting.
The doors clicked open, a light flickering on from within and reflecting off
the surface of each of the weapons. "Pick one." I ordered, moving to the side
and allowing him to review each of the machines.
He hesitated before taking a few steps towards the many items, each in perfect
condition and ranging in caliber. His eyes danced across each of them, a smile
twitching at the corners of his mouth. "You've got a good collection here." He
mumbled, turning to face the M40 in the corner. I hummed in response as he
looked to me, asking for permission. I nodded.
Sebastian's fingers ran down the barrel of the gun, before carefully wrapping
around the end and unhooking it, carrying it into the room. He looked it over,
eyes scanning up and down, checking each little piece as he caressed it in his
hands. "This should case a nice amount of pain." He laughed, looking back up at
me, his eyes shining.
"You get one chance at this, Moran. I don't care if your withdrawals come back,
you fuck up this up and you will be killed." I told him, grabbing the bipod and
throwing it at him. "Take the gun, get ready and I'll send a car. The bullets
will be provided by Quinn."
The Colonel nodded, and left the room. His eyes still fixed on the gun in his
hands.
•••
Sebastian climbed into the car, duffel bag thrown over his shoulder and clothes
starting to stick to him. The withdrawals slowly coming back. I might have gave
him a fairly low dose. "Alex first. Right?" He questioned, pulling the
photograph from his pocket. I nodded signalling for Bill to drive, before
turning my attention to my phone.
'02:35 Everything ready for the job? -James' I typed out to Rosamund, knowing
she wouldn't expect me to betray them if I was asking them for a job. She migh
have been intelligent but she was always oblivious to what I had planned.
Sebastian rested his hand atop of the bag at his side, staring out he window
and taking a few deep breaths. His eyes continued to droop and body was tensing
up again as we got further from the hotel. The early winter sun piercing
through the cloud and illuminating his face, reflecting from his hair.
Bill turned the corner, his hands gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles were
turning white. Eyes focused solely on the road ahead. This was my life, people
doing things for me and never being able to be alone again, in fear of being
killed. Not that dying would be such a bad thing at this point.
Life was boring without someone to play with.
I sighed, as we pulled up, slowly getting out of the car and leading Sebastian
into the building across from Alex's apartment. Bill got back into the car,
speeding away to find somewhere to hide out until the job was done.
Alex's apartment was three floors up, the Windows on both buildings perfectly
aligned with each other. "One shot. That's all you have." I told the soldier,
as he crouched below the glass, pulling the gun from the bag and beginning to
put it together.
I slid down the wall beside the window, back resting against it and pulling my
knees to my chest. My eyes were glued to Sebastian as he put the machine
together, his hands dancing across the pieces and carefully snapping them
together.
The soldier finished, sitting behind the gun and aiming carefully towards the
window. He was calm, his withdrawals no longer effecting him as he stared
through the scope. His body relaxed and breathing slowed, each movement as
fluid as a dancers until he finally finished his set up. 02:53. Seven minutes.
The colonel sat back, watching the apartment ahead of him and waiting. There
was no sound in the room, neither of us daring to break the silence as we sat
there. I continued to stare at the gun, watching as the sunlight bounced off of
the muzzle. It was barely noticeable and you could only see it if you were
above it, the window ledge hiding it from those below.
The windows were low enough for the shot to be taken on your knees, the gun
being held up by the bipod and angled to get the perfect head shot, right
between the eyes. "He's here. Get ready to leave." Sebastian spoke up, his
voice quiet as he leaned forward. It took iphim less than a second to take the
shot, a loud bang echoing through the room and onto the street below.
"Come on." He ordered, picking up the gun and taking it apart as we ran down
the stairs, shoving it into his bag before exiting the building. Bill was
already outside, holding the door open and waiting. Sebastian glanced back
seeing everyone focused on who had been shot, rather than what we were doing.
I sat back in the car, my lips curled into a smile and waiting for the car to
start moving, when Sebastian sat beside me. "You did well. You'll now go back
to the hotel. Your second dose will be at nine o'clock and then you'll have
your second job at midday tomorrow."
"Yes, sir." He nodded, taking a deep breath and turning his attention to his
hands resting in his lap.
"Keep the gun for tonight." I added after a moment, and let my head fall back
staring at the ceiling. Sebastian hummed in response, never looking up until we
had stopped outside the hotel.
"I suppose you'll be watching again tonight?" He questioned, slinging the bag
over his shoulder. I nodded, forcing myself to look at him, his blue eyes
staring directly into mine.
"I don't like drugs Sebastian. Until your clean and I know you can be trusted I
will be keeping an eye on you." I was tired and desperate for sleep, my eyes
now starting to sting. "Oh here. So you don't have to go the shop." I told him,
throwing a pack of Camels at him. He gave a small smile of appreciation,
opening the car door and climbing out.
"Thanks, boss."
Chapter End Notes
     Thoughts on this chapter? I will write more on the whole situation
     with Richard, I promise! Also HOW FUCKING GOOD WAS TFP?! OMFG!!!
***** Death *****
Chapter Summary
     Sebastian is a better shot than Jim had thought
Chapter Notes
     Oh look, a second chapter! This is literally just a filler to address
     what happened to Richard.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
"You pathetic, worthless piece of shit!" He screamed. The stench of alcohol
filled the room and I could see the anger in his eyes as he shoved Richard to
the ground. Blood was pooling on the floor and pouring from his mouth. Eyes red
and puffy as he bit back tears.
I watched silently from afar, gun clasped in my hand and finger on the trigger
as I waited for the opportune moment. Richard looked up, his whole body
trembling with fear and pain as he gripped the dirt beneath him. Taking a deep
breath and slowly climbing to his feet.
I swallowed the lump that had began to rise in my throat. "Fucking little fag
thinks he can betray me!" The larger man screamed again, clean chin his fist
and bringing it down against Richards cheek. He fell side ways, his head
hitting the ground rather hard. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment before the
man gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling him up.
"Kill him boss!" Another man laughed, his friends joining in a few minutes
later and watching as the 'boss' threw Richard to the floor again. I flinched,
almost pressing the trigger as Richard's body went limp on the ground.
Fear rose in my stomach as I watched, Richard never giving any indication to
being alive. The boss laughed, kicking Richard in the ribs and holding out his
hand. I watched with shaking hands, barely able to breath as I watched the
scene playing out in front of me.
The smallest in the group stepped forward, a large grin on his face as he
slipped his hand out of his pocket, a long silver blade clasped in his fist. My
eyes filled with tears as I tried to compose myself, a cold sweat flooding over
my body as I glanced around the room. Several snipers were moving into position
as I continued to watch Richard, no sign of life showing anywhere.
"I'm going to enjoy this." The boss laughed, kneeling down and grabbing Richard
by the hair, his eyes flying open and a whimper escaping his lips. He brother
the knife down, resting it against his throat. "No ones gonna save you. Fucking
digesting fa-" the bang startled me, as the bullet hurtled through the air,
landing right in the back of his head.
The gang looked around, searching for the shooter, as I looked down at my
hands, the gun now empty as I began to shake. I was the shooter. I took a deep
breath, my gaze goin back to the dead body now laying next to Richard, his eyes
wide and blood splattered across his face.
My snipers began to shoot, each of the bullets landing in one of the goons,
Richard starting to shake like a leaf as he watched each of them fall to the
ground. Blood pouring out of their heads and chests, mixing with the dirt on
the floor.
The silence that followed was horrible. A ringing in my ears fromeach shot
slowly disappearing and fading away, before I checked it was safe. Richard was
pale and silent as I walked towards him, his head bowed and staring at the
ground, the blood from his captors slowly getting closer to him.
"Richy..." I whispered, cautiously moving forward, not wanting to startle him.
He slowly looked up the cuts and bruises on his face now on full display, tears
prickling his eyes. He gave me a pleading look, his skin going pale before he
fell backwards, eyes staring up and never blinking. Breath suddenly fading away
and his body going limp.
I panicked, falling to my knees next to him and shaking him, "Richard!
Richard!" I screamed, hoping he would be okay. The snipers got closer,
surrounding us both and pointing their guns towards us.
"You did this James. It's your fault!" A familiar voice spoke, I couldn't
figure out who though. The sniper took aim, the red dot in the middle of my
forehead. "You killed him." They laughed. Tears fell from my eyes and I could
feel my whole body go stiff as I tried to scream, but no words came out.
BANG!!!!!!!!
I jumped awake, sweat covering my whole body and my clothes sticking to me. My
heart pounding a drumming in my ears and throat dry. It was just a dream. Just
a horrible dream.
I steadied myself, crossing my legs beneath me and placing my head in my hands.
"In... Out... In... Out..." I whispered to myself, the darkness from the room
making me feel uneasy and nervous.
Eventually I calmed myself down and got out of the bed, stumbling into the
bathroom and deciding to get a shower...
•••
I dragged my feet across the floor as I entered the office. "Good morning, sir.
Teas on your desk." Quinn smiled, "And Mr. Moran is waiting for you."
"Thanks..." I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose and entering the room.
Sebastian stood up, wobbly on his feet as he used the chair to keep himself
standing. Methadone. I didn't say anything as I crossed the room to get the
needle, just waved my hand and allowed him to sit down again.
"Will you be joining me for today's job?" He questioned, taking the needle from
me and pulling up his sleeve. I nodded, sitting in the chair beside him, not
having any energy to stand. "Everything alright?"
His eyes were full of sympathy as he looked me up and down. "Fine." I snapped,
crossing one leg over the other and running a hand through my hair. Sebastian
nodded, not bothering to press any further on the issue. "What time is it?"
He shrugged, plunging the clear liquid into his skin, "Eleven o'clock." He
stated, looking up at the clock on the book shelf. I nodded, breathing in
deeply before getting to my feet again.
"We best be off then."
Chapter End Notes
     http://i.imgur.com/Nqbtr.gif
     ^Richard^
     RICHARD IS ALIVE! He only died in the nightmare, the rest of the
     dream is a memory, but he didn't die. Jim's mind is just playing
     games! The voice he heard was his fathers yes. He doesn't realise it
     though, he doesn't remember his fathers voice when he pissed off.
***** Murder *****
Chapter Summary
     Sebastian sees what Jim's really like...
Chapter Notes
     This is just another filler chapter sorry guys! Next ones gonna be a
     Sherrinford chapter though :)
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
Sebastian and I were perched on the roof, M40 between us and a cold wind
blowing. We were early, and the job wasn't set to start for another twenty
minutes, but I had to make sure we had time to set up. The blond's eyes stayed
fixed on the apartment building in front of us, the bright blue of his eyes
gleaming from the way the sun was shining down on him.
"So this group," Sebastian started, knocking me from my train of thought. I
rolled my eyes turning to face him, and hoping he hadn't noticed I had been
staring at him the whole time anyways. "What was their job? Just assassins?" He
asked, trying to break the silence between us.
I shook my head, rising to my feet and beginning to pace back and forth, hoping
the pins and needles in my leg would subside quickly. "Rosamund was my
bodyguard, temporarily when I was starting out. Alex and Ajay would keep most
things running smoothly and Gabriel would keep an eye on everything over all.
They knew the ins and outs of the whole empire." Sebastian gave a nod, his eyes
never leaving the building ahead of him. "The English mafia were a close
organisation. They helped us with a lot of things. The cartel was running
brilliantly with their help and I had more time to build the rest of the crime
ring I had started running. So telling them that we were working with the
Spanish as well, caused a lot of problems."
I shrugged, sitting down again and checking my watch. Ten minutes.
"Are they your guys?" Sebastian asked a moment later, pointing into the corner
of the building. I raised an eyebrow watching closely as they entered, guns
steady. It wasn't A.G.R.A but they weren't mine either.
Sebastian took aim, peering down the scope. I raised my hand to block his view,
watching what happened, when three others appeared the oposite side. Each of
them dressed in black and cautiously making their way into the building.
"Boss?" Sebastian asked, looking to me for permission.
I continued watching, waiting to see what the outcome would be, when guns
started firing. "Looks like you've got the day off, Moran." I laughed, watching
each of them being shot, their bodies falling to the ground and blood pooling
from their heads and chests. Multiple wounds covering them as they stared up,
their eyes glossing over.
Sebastian began disassembling the gun, carefully placing it back in the duffel
bag and standing to leave. I couldn't move my eyes away though. The beauty of
their deaths, the crimson liquid, the lives that came to an end.
My phone began to ring a few moments later, the familiar number flashing on the
screen. "Hello?" I sighed, placing the item beside my ear and waiting for an
answer. Faint sounds of screams echoed through the phone, and people yelling
different orders.
"Sir... He's talking!" They panted out, fear lacing their words as more screams
echoed. I hung up, closing my eyes and turning to face the sniper.
A grin etched it's way on to my face, eyes gleaming in the midday sun. "Boss?"
Sebastian asked again, watching me carefully. His eyes showing hints of
confusion and worry. A small laugh escaped my lips at the thoughts of what he
could possibly be saying, had they finally broken him?
"Do you know how to fly a helicopter?"
•••
"Where are we going?" The sniper asked, his body starting to shake again. I
waved my hand to dismiss his question, staring down at the water below. The
ocean waves crashing against the rocks and spraying water into the air.
"I need to speak with someone." I smirked, as the large institute came into
view. Winterfield Asylum. "An old friend..."
"You had friends?" Sebastian joked, earning himself a glare. He shrugged,
taking a deep breath and staring off out the window. Withdrawals were not
something I could have him going through right now.
I dipped into my pocket, feeling the cool metal against my fingers, before
pulling out the syringe. "You need to be steady for this job, Moran. I can't
have you throwing up in the corner." I snapped, handing him the medication and
turning my attention back to the outside world.
The sea air was relaxing, each crash calming my head and silencing the thoughts
swirling around in a never ending cycle. "And the job is?" He asked, quickly
stabbing the liquid into his arm and shoving the used needle into his pocket.
"Dangerous." Was all I could muster, the thoughts of what they did to me
swirling around in my head. Sebastian nodded, not bothering to press the matter
further as the helicopter lowered, landing softly on the ground. "Wait here, we
sharnt be long." I told the pilot, stepping out and climbing down from the
contraption.
Sebastian followed, his body tense as we entered the asylum. The screams were
still bouncing off the stone walls and loud enough to be heard from where we
were stood outside. "Winterfield asylum. The only place in this God forsaken
world that I can be held and not break out of." I laughed, remembering the many
times I had tried and failed over the years, just for some fun.
"You were held here?" Sebastian asked, raising an eyebrow and opening the door
for me. I shook my head, and rolled my eyes.
"I own the place. When I get bored I try and escaped. So far I haven't managed
it. So I know it's good." I laughed, leading him through the corridors and
towards the offices. Screaming continued and chains rattled, doors slamming and
bars being hit. Glass smashing and people begging to be helped.
Sebastian looked a little uneasy, his body tensing further as he inspected the
rooms. Each patient staring blankly at him as we walked. Their screams going
silent as they caught sight of who was walking through the corridor. Scurrying
to the corner of the cells and watching our every move. Whispers began, each
one naming Sherrinford. They all knew my business here. They knew to stay out
of the way and they'd be rewarded.
"So he's talking again?" I asked, swinging the wooden door open to my office.
Three men were already inside waiting, their eyes focused solely on the video
footage they had set up. Sebastian took a quick glance around the room, his
hands clenching into fists, as he moved around. He didn't make a sound, his
eyes darting back and forth from me and the others surrounding the table.
I walked towards the desk, sitting atop of it and grabbing a pen, twirling it
between my fingers. "Sebastian, could you get me a cup of coffee. Two sugars,
black." I announced, causing everyone to flinch, their heads snapping in the
blonde direction. A nervous atmosphere settling across us all.
Sebastian turned away, getting everything ready and boiling the water. "So what
happened? Did he finally crack?" I laughed, looking at their scared faces. Pale
skin and empty eyes as though they'd just seen a ghost.
"Coffee, sir." Sebastian spoke up, holding out the cup. I gave a nod, allowing
him to go back to his place at the back of the room, eyes still watching
carefully.
"It's best if you just watch the tape, sir." One of them spoke up, swallowing
hard as he picked up the remote. I turned my attention to the black and white
screens in front of me, sipping the coffee. The warm steam tickling my nose as
the video began to play...
***** Torture *****
Chapter Summary
     Sherrinford's life at Winterfield has been pretty awful.
Chapter Notes
     Please be careful of this chapter, it's just sick and sadistic, a bit
     like Jim and I. Enjoy none the less though!
     I've been really disappointed by the Sherlock fandom, all because
     they didn't get a kiss. I'm such a big fan of Johnlock but I think
     it's better this way... I just hope we can all get past this...
     I'm so happy that all you guys are reading this though, the lovely
     comments from everyone has really cheered me up! I can't believe how
     amazing all of you are! I love each and everyone of you.
     I just want - Did - you all to know - Did you - that you're all - Did
     - so ama- Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me?
Name: Sherrinford Holmes
Age: 21
Everything went silent after Mycroft had announced the plan. Winterfield
asylum. It was supposed to be the best one there is, and it was supposed to
help me... Forget... Josh. That name rang in my ears, the blood curdling scream
that had escaped his throat that night. The blood that pooled around him as he
lay there, unmoving. Dead.
It was my fault. I had caused this. I had caused all of this. "What do you
think, Sherry? It'll only be for a few months. You'll be right as rain in no
time." Mycroft grinned, but his eyes. Those piercing eyes. They held pain and a
knowledge that it wouldn't be a few months. It wouldn't even be a few years, it
would be a lifetime. A life time of pills and therapy.
"We won't do anything that you're not comfortable with." He assured me, my head
starting to hurt from the all the voices and the screaming, the gun shot and
that voice. His voice. The way he sang the words, like it was a children's song
and nothing more. The horrible Irish accent that bled through his voice,
dripping with venom and instilling fear in whoever heard it.
"I... I'd like that, Mycroft. Thank you." I lied. Mother and father nodded, a
sad smile on their lips as they watched their son breaking in front of them.
Everything felt like it had stopped, my stomach twisting and bile in my throat.
Winterfield it was.
•••
Age: 22
This wasn't what I had expected. Mycroft said it was the best there was. He
hadn't been lying. The only problem was that someone else had bought it.
Someone sinister, sadistic, cruel, hate filled. And I think I knew exactly who
it was.
I sat on the hard metal bed, eyes focused on the door handle, fear flowing
through my body and crashing down on me. I had been on edge since I got here,
the constant screams that I could no longer block out. The rattling chains from
the other patients just as bad as I was, and the horrible smell of death
filtering through each and every room.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor, the soft sound of music playing, as they
got closer and closer to my room. A slight skip with each step.
My stomach flipped, heart pounding so loud and blood rushing through my body.
Black spots appeared in my vision as I tried to block everything out. A cold
sweat covered my whole body as I continued to stare at the door handle, my eyes
burning as they dried out. Each breath shakey and painful, rattling in my
chest.
The metal handle turned, squeaking as it moved. Slowly. Tortuously slow. Until
finally the door swung open, and there he stood. Perfectly pressed black suit,
red tie. Shoes shined and almost brand new. "Hello there, Sherry!" He sang,
dark eyes completely void of all emotion, but a pure hatred radiating from his
as he stared at me.
Two men walked in after him, their faces like stone as they hooked their arms
around mine, pulling me up. Their fingers dug into every inch of skin they
touched and I could feel as it tore apart, blood bubbling on top of the open
wounds. "We're going to have a little chat you and I." He grinned, turning his
back and leading the way.
The halls were long and empty, the previously colourful walls now stripped bare
and painted grey. Windows barred up and blocking all light from the outside. He
didn't turn to look at me, just continued his journey towards the right room.
Turning corners until it felt like we had been walking for hours.
"This is you new room! I'll give you a few minutes to settle in." He laughed,
coming to a halt outside a large steel door. There were no handles and you
needed a ID card to enter. James pulled the laminated paper from his pocket,
swiping it and turning to face me.
I took a deep breath, as I was pulled forward, feet being dragged behind me.
The roll was no bigger than a store cupboard, a small blanket spread out on the
ground and a light embedded in the ceiling, dull and barely useful. No windows
or chairs, no table or wardrobe like my previous room had. That when I saw the
chains though. Silver chairs attached to the wall, cuffs to wrap around my
wrists and ankles.
"That's long enough, chain him up boys!" James laughed, dragging out the final
word as he pointed to the chains, spinning around on one foot. This wasn't the
James I had known, this was something worse, something darker. This was the
James I had witnessed that day he was taken to prison. The James I had
witnessed at the pool that day... The James Brook who was going to kill me.
•••
Age: 26
Four years. Four years of torture. It was late at night, the patients sleeping
soundly and not a murmur coming from any of them. This could only mean one
thing. The door to my room opened slowly, the familiar suited figure standing
before me. "Happy Birthday, Sherry!" He grinned, entering the room.
His eyes held nothing like usual, hatred just oozing from his body and
surrounding me. I stared up at him from my spot on the ground, hands clenched
tightly into fists and blood drying on my wrists from the shackles. "Still not
talking to me, Sherry?" He pouted.
Sherry. That name sent shivers down my spine, memories flashing before my eyes
of the pool. William slowly walking out from behind the pillar. Sherry. The
name he had called me a hundred times when he had nightmares or when he was
sick. The name he used when he told me he was gay and the name he used when he
and Josh met, telling me he was happy for me.
James smirked, walking a little closer, crouching down in front of me. He
placed his hand on my chin, running his thumb over my cheek and giving a smile.
If it had been anyone else I would have mistaken it for a caring gesture. This
was James though. James Moriarty I had learned of the many years.
"You've been a very bad boy lately haven't you Sherry?" He teased, slapping his
hand across my face. James was always the worst. I was able to block out the
pain from his goons, but him. He knew just what buttons to press. These were
the days I feared, the irregular visits from James.
I flinched as his hand connected with my face, tears stinging my eyes, but
refusing to fall. "Josh always loved to see me in pain, I can see why now. It's
so enjoyable watching as you make people flinch. As they cry... As they die."
He whispered, each word seething with resentment. "I've a present for you,
Sherry!" He laughed, jumping to his feet again.
I sat in silence like I had done for so long. My eyes trained on James as he
walked back a few paces, his hand dipping into his pocket. "I got this
yesterday. I thought you might want to see it." He smirked, pulling out a
phone. I raised an eyebrow to him, watching closely as he messed about with it
a little.
"Mycroft, where's Redbeard?" The familiar voice of my youngest brother spoke.
My heart skipped a beat, pounding in my chest as he turned the phone to face
me. William's face appearing on the screen, tears falling from his cheeks. "I
can't find him anywhere!" He cried out.
Mycroft turned to look at him, no emotion on his face, almost like James but
not quite as void. "He's had to go away, Sherlock." He told the younger boy. I
furrowed my eyebrows hating how he called him by his middle name. I knew
William preferred it though. Only I could call him William.
"Why did he have to go?" Sherlock asked. He was older than the last time I had
saw him, but still child like. His eyes wide with interest as he looked to his
big brother. I tried as hard as possible to keep the tears at bay, swallowing
the lump in my throat, but unable to look away.
"Well Sherlock, Sherrinford was getting awfully lonely in hospital, so Redbeard
offered to go stay with him." Mycroft lied, his voice wavering ever so
slightly, but not enough for William to pick up on. William nodded, opening his
mouth to speak again before deciding not to.
Jim snatched the phone away at that point, shoving it back in his pocket. He
grinned, running his tongue over his teeth and staring down at me. "Do you want
to know what happened, Sherry? Do you want to hear the dog as it whimpered in
pain and tried to avoid another bullet to the leg? Would you like to hear
little William's scream when he found the poor dog?"
James knelt in front of me, his face only inches away from mine. "Would you
like to re-watch the moment he heard your name? The sad look in his eyes as he
remembered you?" James pressed his lips against mine, running his tongue over
the bottom one, before biting it gently and pulling away. Guilt.
I looked away, my gaze falling on the corner of the room, Josh's face appearing
in my view. Tears rolling down his face as he witnessed what had just happened.
"If you're not going to talk, then you deserve to be punished." James stated
simply, pushing me back with such force. My head hit the wall, a loud thud
echoing through the tiny room.
The two men from the first visit entered the room a few minutes later, their
hands behind their back as they joined James at his side. "Which would you like
first, sir?" The grey haired man asked, as they both brought the items they
were carrying into view.
I gasped at the sight of them, my eyes scanning up and down each item. "I think
the knife will do perfectly for this, you can leave now." He snarled, wrapping
his fingers around the silver blade.
His eyes were dark as he stared at me, the cynical grin returning. He tilted
his head to the side slightly, assessing me and working out what his should do
first. "You're not going to enjoy this as much as I am, so I suggest crying as
much as possible. It won't make me stop, but it might make me smile." He joked,
dragging me by the collar into the centre of the room.
I took a deep breath, as he pressed the knife to the top of my chest. Clothes
had been foregone a long time ago, ripped to shred by the fourth visit and
never replaced. Even in the winter when the cold sea air rattled through the
hallways and seeped under the door. Three bouts of Pneumonia hadn't changed
anything either.
The knife pierced my skin, a small trickle of blood dripping down my chest and
smearing on the knife. James' eyes gleamed at the sight, the crimson red adding
a little colour to the grey room.
My breath hitched as he started to twist the knife, pressing it in slightly
harder, his eyes fixed solely on the trail sliding down my skin and towards the
floor. "Lets make sure you never forget who you belong to!" He gave what could
have easily been mistaken for a genuine smile at that idea, quickly jerking the
knife down.
A scream caught in my throat as the pain burned through my body. He didn't stop
though. James pulled the knife out quickly, the skin surrounding it still
ripping as he pulled it from where it had embedded it's self. "Brace your-" I
didn't hear him finish his sentence as a scream ripped its way through my
throat, the knife plunging back into my chest and being jerked diagonally.
I calmed myself taking a few deep breaths as he pulled the knife out again,
slashing another long line across the top of my chest. Blood was pouring from
my body and I could feel myself growing weaker as he continued. Eye's growing
heavy from the blood loss, and a small puddle forming around my knees.
James continued to cut away, going over each mark he had already made six or
seven times. My heard throbbed, black dots appearing in my eyesight as I
searched for something to save me. Bile rose in my throat as I watched the
psychopath tearing me apart, swaying slightly as he stabbed in and out of me.
"Don't faint now, you'll miss all the fun." He teased, stabbing in again. He
didn't tear at my skin this time, just held it there. Fear cascaded over me, a
ringing in my ears and the pain being the only thing keeping me awake.
James ripped the knife from my skin, standing up and staring at the silver
blade. Red covered it, lining each and every inch of the sharp edge. "Lick it."
He demanded, holding it in front of my face. I didn't question it, sticking out
my tongue as he dragged the knife over it, careful not to cut myself.
The metallic taste made me feel worse, The bile sticking in my throat and
burning as I fought to keep it down, licking the knife until every bit of it
was clean. James smirked, the pain I was in causing him joy. The terrifying
look in his eyes again. "I'll be visiting again soon, Sherry." He laughed,
throwing his knife in the corner of the room. He wouldn't be back for a long
time.
I couldn't move, paralysed with both fear and pain. Blood continuing to pour
from my chest as I knelt in the pool that had been created on the ground. The
door slid open, James turning to take one last look at the mess he had created,
before skipping out of the room. Now for the encore.
His goons walked in after that, large metal rings on their fingers and a
leather whip in their hands. One of them glanced to the corner, seeing the
knife layed out for them. "Hands and knees." He demanded.
I swallowed my pride, moving into position, my whole body aching and weak. This
wasn't James' idea. He had told me that the first meeting. They did what they
wanted to me, with me. He just liked to cut me up and mess with my head, and
compared to the tortures they put me through. That was so much more terrifying.
I deserved this pain. I had put him through it with Josh. His father. I
deserved this.
•••
Age: 27
James hadn't visited for six months. He would here soon though. His two goons
dragged me to the familiar glass room. Body too weak to stand, barely able to
keep my eyes open. Anyone else would have thought I was dead. This was James
though. I wasn't going to die until I told him what he wanted. The plan.
The two men threw me down in a chair, the room dark. I fell forward, my head
hitting a solid surface which I figured was a table. "The boss is giving you
one more chance." One of them spoke up, their voice deep and sending a sharp
pain through the constant headache I had acquired.
"Hello, Sherry!" The familiar sing song came through the speakers. I looked up,
glancing around the room, making sure my mind wasn't tricking me, but it was
impossible to see anything. "In front of you is a television. Watch carefully,
I won't be giving you a rerun." He laughed, as the screen flickered on.
The familiar looking male appeared on the screen. Long black hair and large
purple bags under his eyes. The room he was in was white and padded, a straight
jacket wrapped tightly around his slender figure. "This is William Sherlock
Scott Holmes. If you don't tell me what I want to know. He will die." James
threatened, when a familiar looking red dot appeared between the boys eyes.
I watched the screen, fear flooding over me like it had the first visit.
"Don't... do... this..." I choked out, my voice weak from lack of use, and
screaming over the years. James' laughed crackled through the speakers, as
another dot appeared. "Please... no... I'll tell... I'll tell you..." I
panicked.
The screen went black again after that, plunging the room into darkness.
Footsteps made their way closer to me, hands resting on my shoulders and
pushing me forward. "The boss is going to be very happy." They spoke, as a
sharp pain stabbed through my wrist, the cool metal of handcuffs, cutting deep
into my skin and being wrapped around the table leg.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as the screen flickered on again, this time
with Jim's face, his eyes wide and terrifying, a large grin showing his teeth.
"Let's have some fun." He laughed, and a loud crack bounced off the walls. My
back burned from the sudden contact, the familiar feeling of a leather belt.
A few seconds passed and there was another, my body flinging forwards into the
table. I screamed as a crunch came from my chest, bruises already forming. I
could feel myself growing weaker, pulling myself up I stared in front of me,
the horrible image of James' face still on the screen. Those terrible
unblinking eyes and meaningless smile.
"He'll be here soon. Don't fall asleep." The man spoke again, before I heard
the doors slide open, both of them leaving, with the monitor still switched on,
that image that would haunt my nightmares if I got out of here alive.
A tear slipped down my face as I stared back.
Why can't I just die?
***** Punish *****
Chapter Summary
     So what was the plan?
Chapter Notes
     Please don't forget to leave comments guys! I've had so many over the
     last few days and I love each and every one of them! They honestly
     make me so happy it's unfucking real!
     Twitter: JimMoriartyxo
     Instagram: JimMoriartyxo
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
I smirked as I watched the reaction on the older Holmes' face. His eyes
bloodshot and full of pain as he saw the video of his brother. I turned to face
the others, each of them still terrified. I suppose they had good reason to be
as well. The last time I was here I let three murderers loose with knives,
simply because I was bored.
"How long has he been in there?" I asked, watching them carefully. The largest
man in the group swallowed, his throat moving as he stared up at me. "Well!" I
yelled, slamming the now empty cup of coffee down on the table.
Each of the men flinched, the blond almost falling off the back of his chair.
They each regained their composure. The youngest of the group took a deep
breath after that, quickly glancing to Sebastian and then back at me. "An hour,
sir." He choked out, and looked back to Sebastian.
"Great. I'll see you boys later, and I expect to be able to visit Fredrickson
after wards. He owes me some information." I grinned, and skipped around the
table. "Sebastian, with me."
•••
The room was dark, and I could just about make out the silhouette of
Sherrinford. His body hunched over the table and groaning in pain. His eyes
filling with tears. "I won't fill you in, just stick close. He even cogues and
I want him beat." I told the ex-colonel swiping the ID card.
Sebastian didn't question it, just nodded and proceeded to follow behind me. I
flickered the lights on, Sherrinford's body jumping three feet in the air at
the sudden brightness. "Charming isn't it? I stayed up all night making that
video for you." I laughed, "It was a nightmare trying to track down your
brother though. Did you know he's moved out?"
Sherrinford's head snapped up, eyes burning into my skull. "I'll give you the
information. Just leave him alone." He spoke, his voice was rough and barely
audible from lack of use, but I couldn't care less. I sat down in the middle of
the table, legs crossed and staring at the older man.
"Then talk." I whispered, my face inches from his. Sebastian stood to the side
of us both, his gaze falling between us. I smirked, pressing my lips to the
Holmes boy, biting his lip before pulling away. "I want the whole plan, and
then I'll think about your punishment."
"Just us." He argued, nodding his head towards the sniper.
"He stays. For both our protection." I informed him, curling a piece of his
hair between my fingers. "Neither of us can hurt the other with him here." I
informed him, knowing full well that Sebastian wouldn't be able to stop us, he
wasn't strong enough to fight right now. Maybe it would be fun to see what
happened? No, I can't do that. I need him.
Sherrinford nodded none the less, ducking his head to stare at the floor, hands
still cuffed together and wrapped around the table leg. "Josh found out about
Carl." He stated simply. I tensed at the sound of his name, the memories of
what he did flashing through my mind. "He worked it out after he found Carl's
medication. It wasn't right. He did a little testing in the school labs and
figured it out."
I gave a low growl, not caring much for the details, and also quite surprised
the boy was so intelligent. "Josh told me about it, we were already together by
this point, but I knew about his... fantasies." He paused, and looked up at
Sebastian, eyes roaming over the taller man and finally settling back on the
ground. "I agreed to let him speak with you, I agreed to him having a bit of
fun. I didn't know he was going to..."
Sherrinford gave a small groan of pain, hunching his body over and squeezing
his eyes shut. "The plan... It was just to have a bit of fun. We didn't think
you had actually done it. We figured it was just something stupid. You were the
only one who wasn't bothered by his death though." He groaned again, almost
falling from the chair this time.
I grinned, lifting his head to look at me, running my thumb over his cheek.
"The plan." I whispered, leaning in next to his ear and flicking my tongue out.
His earned a slight gasp, his body going tense.
"He... He didn't tell me what he was doing. I swear. He told me you... You
were... Just a friend, that he was helping with some work and he figured you
didn't do it." He pleaded, "Then when he stopped wanting to fuck I figured
there was something else to it. I asked him if I could speak with you, get to
know you."
Sherrinford sighed, looking up at me, eyes staring into mine. "That's when he
told me what was going on. I genuinely did want to help you. I didn't want you
to admit to the murder. I was trying to get you to tell me about what Josh was
doing. Then you spoke about your father, and the murder and I couldn't warn
you."
Anger boiled beneath my skin as I looked down at him. "You're going to die
here." I screamed, kicking my feet out, hitting him in the face, and rolling
backwards off the table. Sherrinford fell back, the table moving with him as he
fell to the ground. Body twitching in pain and a loud sob escaping his lips.
Sebastian moved away, just in time to avoid being hit, and I landed on my feet.
"Like fuck did you not play a part in his scheme! You were engaged to the
prick!" I screamed, kicking him in the side and hearing a crack. Broken ribs.
My smile grew as I looked down at him, the pain I could cause making me feel
like a God. A kind!
"I swear it was all his idea! I didn't do anything!" Sherrinford pleaded,
praying I would listen to him, but he wasn't that lucky. He didn't deserve my
sympathy.
"From now on you're only going to have a more miserable life. How you could
even think that I'd believe that pathetic story is beyond me. Sherrinford
Holmes, you're going to fucking die. Slowly. Painfully. And over and over
again." I grinned, turning back to the monitor and pressing a simple button.
The previous video of William flashed up on the screen, his eyes wide and body
trembling as he fought through his restraints. "Watch." I demanded, grabbing
Sherrinford by the hair and pulling him up.
Sebastian watched in horror at the scene in front of him, but stayed exactly
where he was. "You're going to watch this over and over." I laughed, as I heard
William pleading.
"Please Sherrinford... Please don't do this!" He cried. The elder Holmes stared
up at me, his eyebrows furrowed as the camera panned around slightly, a tall
man with black hair stood before his brother. One of my many workers.
"We told him that was you. You're now going to watch as your brother is killed,
his final thoughts being that his brother. The man he loved and cared for all
his life. The man who killed him." I laughed manically, as Sherrinford began to
scream. Begging and pleading for his brother to be spared, tears pouring from
his eyes and down his cheeks.
There was a moment of silence that fell upon us all. The sniper taking aim,
barrel pressed against Sherlock's forehead, right between his eyes.
Sherrinford's breath hitched in his throat, his eyes never leaving the screen
before him. Sebastian watched between us and the screen his eyes wide.
"I hate you." The sniper whispered, and with that the bullet entered the boys
head. Blood spilled down his face and his body went limp within seconds falling
to the ground. Eyes vacant and empty.
"I made you choose between them both all those years ago. You didn't think I'd
make it that easy though did you?" I grinned, and threw the man to the ground,
his face hitting the hard concrete floor. "I won't be back to visit you again.
I'll make sure that your punishment is just as bad though."
•••
Sebastian and I sat in silence, the only noise being that of the helicopter.
"You shot a kid to get revenge?" He questioned, his voice sounded quite sad and
I could see the pain in his eyes. He was a ex-soldier, he had morals. William
was hardly a child though, he was nineteen for God's sake. I suppose he looked
younger though. Innocent.
"He's alive." I told him after a moment of careful consideration. "It's a fake
video. The kid's perfectly fine. He's a drug addict and goes to university now.
He's very much alive though. Or at least the last I checked, he might have
finally overdosed now though."
Sebastian looked at me, completely dumbfounded. "You're going to drive him
insane!" He argued. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the collar of his shirt,
pulling him close.
"That man deserves to suffer. He deserves to be in that state." I spat,
gritting my teeth and pushing Sebastian away.
The blond shrugged, looking me up and down, his bright blue eyes darkening and
filling with interest. "So what did they do to you?" He asked. The question
caught me off guard and my whole body tensed. I couldn't tell him. I couldn't
tell anyone. I didn't want him to know, I was supposed to be his boss, the
king, the spider in the centre of the web. I couldn't tell someone that I was
once weak.
I decided to just say nothing and avoid the question. "I'll take you back to
your hotel. Three more days on the Methadone and you should be fine. You come
to my office each morning for your first dose."
Sebastian sighed, pity burrowed deep within his eyes, "Yes, boss."
***** Dinner *****
Chapter Summary
     Jim can't have his body guard out of his sight! What kind of a fool
     do you take him for?
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
"Please, James. You promised your brother you would come!" Ma pleaded. I
sighed, looking down at the computer on my desk and seeing the ex-soldier
relaxing. It had been a rather dull day, and therefore he had spent the whole
time in his room, mostly listening to the small radio I had placed in there.
"James, you haven't visited since..." Her voice trailed off, she knew I hated
to remember the dreadful events of that night. She knew I hated everything
about it, she knew the guilt I had from it, and therefore she knew exactly how
to get me there that night.
I sighed, rolling my eyes and I could practically see the smile on her face as
she realised she had won. "Fine. I'll be there at six. I'm bringing a...
friend." I told her, trying to find the right word to describe Sebastian.
"Oh great! The more the merrier, what's their name son?" She asked. I knew
exactly what she was getting at but just let it slide.
"His name's Sebastian." I informed her, and she all but screamed, rattling off
a load of questions. "Ma! Ma! He's just a friend. I met him at the pub. I'll
bring him with me, but you can't ask him a load of questions, and you can't get
all excited." I laughed, trying my best to keep her happy.
"Alright, love. I'll see you both at six." She hung up.
I flopped down on the chair, running a hand through my hair. What have I done?
Sebastian moved around the room, walking towards the camera and waving his hand
to get my attention. I groaned, clicking the microphone on. "You waved." I
spoke, my voice making it evident I was annoyed.
"Just bored, I figured I might try and annoy you a little." He shrugged,
turning and pacing up and down the room. His withdrawals had gotten an awful
lot better over the last couple of days, the Methadone finally working properly
and keeping him sane. "You're not a very good conversational partner." He
laughed, jumping backwards and landing on the bed.
"I'm not here to talk to you, I'm here to make sure you don't try and get
high." I argued, pulling at my sleeve and dropping my gaze to the floor. "I
need you to visit my family with me. Wear something nice, we're having dinner."
"You know you're supposed to take me on a date before I meet your parents." He
teased, smirking up at the camera and winking. I rolled my eyes, pressing
another button on the microphone that caused a loud high pitched noise to
crackle through the speakers.
Sebastian shrieked, trying to block the noise out and covering his ears with
his hands. "I'd keep that tongue of yours quiet, Moran." I spat, silencing the
noise and smirking. Sebastian snarled, bearing his teeth as he looked at me.
"What should I wear?" He asked finally, walking to the wardrobe and scanning
his eyes over everything.
"Something comfortable, casual. Jeans and a shirt should be fine." I informed
him, looking down at myself and sighing. I had to change. "I'll be outside in a
car in an hour. My mother's name is Sarah Brook and my twin is Richard Brook.
You'll be polite and answer every question she asks, you don't have to tell the
truth, quite frankly I couldn't care less, just make her happy."
Sebastian nodded, grabbing some clothes and walking into the bathroom,"Yes,
sir."
•••
The house hadn't changed much, a fresh coat of paint on the door and around the
windows, but still the same small family home. "Remember, polite and make her
happy. I don't care if you have to suffer to make that happen." I told the
blond, who just nodded. "Quickly, before we go in." I added, handing him the
familiar syringe.
Sebastian nodded again, quickly stabbing the needle through the material of his
sleeve and injecting the clear solution. I smirked knocking on the door,
informing my family members I was here, pushing the large wooden door open.
"Ma, Richard?" I called out, the smell of food floating through from the
kitchen.
I eased into my 'normal' self, a friendly smile on my lips and a calm relaxed
body language. Sebastian followed me into the house, closing the door gently
behind him and keeping his footsteps silent. Ma was in the kitchen, slaving
over the pots and pans to make one of her special recipies. Which would
probably be a simple roast dinner, but it's the thought that counts.
"Ma!" I grinned, as she turned around, seeing us both and opening her arms for
a hug. I wrapped my own arms around her waist, pulling her close. "It's good to
see you, ma! You look great!" I grinned, pulling away and placing my hands on
her shoulder. "Oh! This is Sebastian Moran, Sebastian this is my mother,
Sarah."
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Brook." He smiled, as she pulled him into a hug as well.
He was taller than her and so he wrapped an arm carefully around her waist,
bending down slightly.
"Please, lovely. Call me Sarah." She grinned, her perfect white teeth flashing
as she turned back to the cooking. "You two go on through to the garden,
Richard's just getting the Christmas tree from the shed. I know it's a month
away but I really wanted to decorate it together."
I nodded, leading the way, Sebastian following closely behind like he was paid
to. "Richard?" I yelled across the garden, a rumaging coming from the shed and
shadows moving across the windows. "Rich can you come out of there a second?"
I got to the door, resting against the wall and Sebastian standing just to my
side, arms crossed and a relaxed look on his face, unlike the usual stone cold
killer look. Richard all but fell out of the door, large Christmas tree almost
falling and crushing him to death, if it hadn't been for Sebastian catching it.
"Will you ever be a normal child?" I laughed, looking at him. His cheeks were
bright red as he tried to avoid both Sebastian and I's gaze.
"Well it's your stupid train set that I fell over!" He argued, taking the tree
from Sebastian and leaning it against the wall.
"That train set is a work of art." I spat, before pulling him into a tight hug.
"Anyways, Richard this is Sebastian, Sebastian, Richard." I introduced, looking
between them both. The blond gave a small wave, his eyes darting between my
brother and I.
"Nice to meet you." Rich smiled, holding out his hand. Sebastian nodded,
mumbling something along the lines of 'You too' and shook his hand. "Right,
let's get this tree inside. Decorations are already in the living room." Rich
grinned. He and Sebastian grabbed the tree on either end, Sebastian offering to
take the bulk of it as I just opened doors and teased them.
"You could've helped!" Rich whined, as they stood the tree in the corner of the
room. I laughed falling backwards onto the couch. "I'm going to help mother,
you can just relax after all your hard work." He joked, sarcasm pouring into
every word, which only made me grin.
Richard turned on his heel and left the room, and I sighed relaxing from my
fake persona. "They're nice." Sebastian commented, taking a seat on the other
side of the room, elbows rested on his knees and head in his hands.
"Well they try. Now there's one more thing I need you to do. If you hear one
mention of my father you will remain silent, you don't mention him. Ma doesn't
like to be reminded of his death. Richard finds it uncomfortable. He was a good
man but, sometimes he was a bit harsh." I told him, thinking back to the awful
comments he made towards my mother as I was growing up. "He took his own life
when I was just sixteen. So don't mention a word of it."
"Yes, boss." Sebastian agreed, "Why am I here though?"
"I told you about A.G.R.A. I can't go anywhere near my family without someone
else there. Plus they do love when I bring a friend home. Even if I can't stand
them." I scoffed, rolling my eyes and sitting forward. Sebastian laughed,
nodding his head and looking around the room.
"You're pretty honest considering you only met me a few weeks ago." He wondered
aloud. I shrugged, taking my phone out of my pocket and sending a quick text.
"Well I seem to know all about you." I winked, leaving the room as his phone
signalled he had a message.
'06:43 There's still so much you don't know. -Smith'
***** Family *****
Chapter Summary
     Jim and Sebastian are not the greatest guests...
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
We all sat around the table, a comfortable silence falling over us as we ate.
My mother continuously grinned at Sebastian and I, her eyes darting between us
both and then to Richard. He wasn't very talkative, his head down as he stared
at the plate of food, body tense and completely silent.
I sighed, picking up the glass of wine in front of me, taking a quick sip. "So
how was your trip, Ma?" I asked, hoping to ease Richard into a conversation
eventually, or at least make him relax.
"Oh it was brilliant, love. Thailand is so beautiful, you'd love it there. I'll
have to take you one day!" She grinned, looking towards the soldier this time.
"Have you ever been there love?"
Sebastian nodded his head and gave a small smile. "Yeah, I didn't have long
there, only spent the day. I was travelling to Afganistan and the flight had to
refuel." He shrugged, to which my mother's smile on grew.
"Oh were you in the army, dear?" She asked, putting two and two together.
Sebastian nodded, and took a sip of his drink. "How lovely, so dead, you'll
have to tell us about yourself! What do you for a living?" She asked, resting
her head in the palm of her hand and swirling her drink in the other.
"I just do some office work, nothing very interesting." He lied, Richard
continued to stare at his plate, no longer eating just listening to everyone
else.
"So James told me you two met not long ago, it's so great to know he has a
friend. It's been so long." She cooed, and Sebastian just gave her a smile, as
I shot him a glare. "He's always prefared to be on his own, I was starting to
worry about him."
"Well he's still pretty lonely, always in that head of his." Sebastian joked,
not realising how true a statement he had just made. My mother just laughed,
giving another smile. So far so good.
"Richard how're things with you?" I asked, trying to change the subject from
myself. Richard looked up, eyes darting between us all and eventually falling
on mine. He shrugged, wrapping his arms around himself and smiling.
"How about you three go on into the living room, I'll clean up in here." Ma
spoke up. I nodded, grabbing Richard's wrist and pulling him out of the room,
leaving Sebastian with Ma.
I pushed him into the living room, throwing him down on the couch. "What's
wrong with you tonight?" I demanded, watching the door and keeping my voice
quiet. He flinched at the tone of my voice, curling into himself on the couch
and staring up with his big brown eyes.
"I'm just nervous s'all." He mumbled, "I'm always scared when you visit. What
if someone see's you here. I can't go through that again, James." His eyes
slipped shut as he fought back tears, breathing now slightly jagged.
"Rich that's not going to happen. That's why Sebastian is here." I whispered,
sitting beside him and comforting him just like he had done for me so many
times. "Sebastian is payed to take care of me. He's a bodyguard, he's going to
do everything he can to keep you safe as well as me and Ma."
Richard looked up again, his eyes glossed over. "So we're safe?" He asked,
taking a deep breath and I nodded, as the door opened revealing Sebastian and
Ma with large grins on their face.
•••
Sebastian and I sat in silence, Ma had gone to bed and Richard was passed out
on the couch. "We should get going once I clean up in here." I told him,
yawning and picking up one of the empty boxes. He shrugged, and looked up at
me, bright blue eyes.
What was with those eyes?
"Want me to give you a hand?" He questioned, leaning forward in the chair and
starting to help clean. I didn't respond, just went about cleaning the room and
placing the boxes in the corner for when the decorations had to come down.
"Your families pretty cool?" He commented after a few minutes, wording it more
as a question than a statement.
"Yeah, well they try." I scoffed, reverting back to my usual self. Exhausted
from the facade I had been keeping up for so long. Sebastian gave a small
smile, and grabbed the last box, placing it with the rest. "We have things to
do tomorrow." I told him, leading the way out to the car and locking the door.
Sebastian followed closely behind. Bill had left earlier that night, and
therefore the soldier was driving. "You're going to need a new phone, clothes,
some ID's, a place to stay and an understanding off the empire I'm building,
therefore I need to know I can trust you." I explained, climbing into the
passengers seat and waiting for the assassin.
"How do you suppose I do that?" He questioned, starting up the car and turning
onto the road.
"What's your darkest secret? The one thing you could never tell anyone.
Something that if people found out it would ruin your whole life." I laughed,
eyes darkening as I watched him think. He turned to me, stopping at the lights
and staring at me, his large crystal eyes full of dread.
"I killed my mother."
***** Hotels *****
Chapter Summary
     Children should not be left alone.
Chapter Notes
     Does anyone think this story is going too fast, or maybe too slow?
     I'm just wondering, because I thought maybe people won't want it to
     be really long? So I thought I might split it and make a sequal after
     they get together? I don't know? Any ideas guys?
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Name: Sebastian Moran
Age: 27
There was a reason I didn't want kids. There was a reason you didn't let a
child out of your sight and there was a reason you didn't let a child drink
coffee. I had learned all three of these things in the space of two hours.
"James Moriarty if you throw that lamp out of the window, I swear to God I'll
tie you to a chair and shove a sock in your mouth!" I screamed, placing the two
mugs and vase back on the table, before cautiously moving towards the mad man
holding the lamp out of the window.
"Admit that you cheated!" He screamed back, his grip loosening ever so
slightly. I reached my arms out in surrender, still making my way towards him.
"You can't know who did it within five minutes of the game!" With that the lamp
came hurdling towards my head, narrowly missing me as I ducked.
I lunged forwards grabbing his wrists and spinning him around, his back against
my chest and arms crossed over his waist. We had been playing Cluedo, which was
apparently not a good idea.
James had refused to tell me where he lived, and therefore was now sharing a
hotel suit with me, until his usual driver picked him up in the morning.
Therefore I was left in charge of the God forsaken man child for the night. And
in the time we had spent together I had learned three things;
1) James Moriarty loved games. Yet he hated to loose, therefore if you beat him
you'll get a lamp to the head. And a mug. And another mug. And a vase.
2) Do not! I repeat! DO NOT GIVE JAMES MORIARTY COFFEE AFTER NINE O'CLOCK! He
will bounce off every wall, door and couch. Which will also result in him
falling on top of you and threatening to castrate you with a spoon.
3) Nothing you say or do is right, and he will constantly insult everything
about you. You can't take your eyes off of him otherwise he will be swinging
from the light, and if you even think about touching him you will have your
nose broken. (If you're not careful.)
"Sebastian Moran, if you do not let go of me I will cut your fucking eye out!"
He threatened, squirming about and trying to break free. I tightened my grip,
watching as he struggled, utterly amused at the genuine lack of strength. No
wonder he needed a body guard.
"James I am going to let go, and when I do, you're going to go to bed. And
sleep. Because if you don't I will not be accountable for my actions!" I
demanded, and pushed him forwards towards the bedroom. James pouted, rubbing
his hand over his wrist, the skin slightly red.
"You know I don't pay you to baby sit me." He moaned, heading towards the door,
and opening it slightly.
"You don't pay me to throw lamps at my head either. Or for me to entertain
you." I snapped, starting to clean the pieces off the floor, where the lamp had
smashed. James shrugged, rolling his eyes and throwing the doors open, running
towards the bed and jumping onto it.
"I'm borrowing a shirt." He spoke after a few minutes, raiding the wardrobe
before dancing into the bathroom. I threw the broken pieces into the trash,
before falling back onto the couch, eyes closed and head starting to throb. How
could one man be so exhausting?
Within minutes James came skipping back into the living room, a very oversized
shirt hanging from his shoulders and a pair of boxer shorts around his waist.
His eyes were heavy but he continued to fight the sleep, as he sat beside me.
"So your mother?" He asked, crossing his hands over his chest.
I groaned, standing up and turning to walk away, grabbing a pair of sweats from
the wardrobe and disappearing into the bathroom. "I could just get someone to
look into it, you know? But they might just let it slip..." He called, as I
changed clothes.
I rubbed my hands over my face, groaning at the sound of his voice and wanting
to punch him. There was something about him though. Those shining doe eyes and
Irish accent, maybe? I thought, shaking my head and coming back to reality.
James was still sat on the couch when I left the bathroom. His fingers dancing
across the phone screen. "If you want to know about it, you have to give me
answers." I explained, sitting next to him again, feet resting on the coffee
table in front of us and hands resting on my stomach.
James rolled his eyes and put his phone down. "What do you wanna know?"
"The text I received, while we were at your parents house. You're Smith. So why
did you tell me about yourself?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest as he
gave a small smile.
"I wanted to recruit you. I couldn't just keep you in the dark. Plus it wasn't
anything you wouldn't have found out by working for me anyways." He laughed,
shrugging his shoulders as if it was nothing. And it wasn't. "I suppose you
want to know why your uncle gave you my number?" He added, his eyes sparkling
as he realised how to get more information from me, planting a question in my
head and letting it fester.
"Yeah..." I mumbled, knowing what was coming next, when he suddenly carried on.
"I was the one to get your father out of jail after his false imprisonment. I
also wiped your records and got you into the army. This was because your father
had helped me start my empire, he did a few killings for me, just small low
lives who were stealing. Nothing major." He smirked. "Now I want the full
story. Start to end."
The look in his eyes was quite mesmerising, full of interest and something
else. Something sinister? I nodded, my eyes falling on the vase before me as I
took a deep breath.
"She was a good woman. Always took care of me and my brother. She never hit us
or anything, but she was stern. Always did as she said. After my father was
imprisoned though she became depressed. He was in for three months before you
got him out and she had to run the whole house herself." I explained, hoping he
would just get bored and go to bed, but I wasn't that lucky...
"When she found out he had been hospitalised and wasn't doing too well she
began to drink. Six bottles by three o'clock every day. When he got out he
wasn't the same. He was constantly paranoid and distanced himself. He became
angry and would abuse us. His us and beat us for nothing in particular.
"My mother wasn't a strong woman and every beating made her worse. She
eventually became too weak to take them anymore, and she would try and avoid my
father and I at all costs.
"When my father found out about the army, he was furious. He beat me so badly
that I was knocked out for almost a week. Which left Severin and my mother to
be beaten." My voice started to crack and I could feel tears welling up in my
eyes. "When I woke up I had less than a week until I left. Father was still
furious but he avoided me and therefore I avoided any more beatings.
"When I went to find my mother the night before I left though, she was no where
to be found. I searched everywhere, until I finally spotted her in the garden.
She was covered in blood and bruises and could barely move. Tears pouring down
her face as she stared up at the trees." I swallowed the lump in my throat,
eyes still focused of the vase before me.
"She told me she loved me, and she asked me for one thing before I left.
Severin was moving out later that week for his first year of university and she
would be alone to take the beatings. So she asked me to..." I trailed off, no
longer able to trust my voice as I remembered that terrible night.
"She asked you to kill her?" James finished, his voice still as even as always.
I tore my gaze away, forcing myself to look at him, his eyes completely void
and face like stone. No sympathy, no pity or disgust. No smile or any
indication that he cared. And yet somehow... It was comforting.
I nodded, and looked away again, rubbing my hands over my face again. I took a
deep breath, reminding myself that it's what she wanted. It was a mercy
killing. She didn't want to live in pain and fear. Yet no matter how many times
I told myself that, all I wanted to do was cry. That was my mother. The woman
who gave birth to me, who took care of me, who did everything for me. And I put
a bullet in her brain and didn't even think twice about it.
James shrugged, getting off the couch and turning to walk away. "Thanks for the
bedtime story." He stated, still no sign of emotion. I nodded again, staring
straight ahead and paying no attention to anything that was around me.
I stayed that way a little longer, before coming back to reality, a warm
sensation on my shoulders. I looked down to find a blanket placed around me,
the soft cotton draping over my shoulders. I raised an eyebrow, turning to look
at James, about to say thank you, but he was already asleep. His eyes shut and
hair strewn across the pillow. Mouth slightly open as he curled the blanket
around himself.
I lay down on the couch, blanket thrown over me and closed my eyes. Sleep was
fast coming and I could feel the darkness slowly engulfing me. My last thought
being James' eyes, and the way they shined as he smiled up at me. Even if he
was just trying to get his own way.
Chapter End Notes
     So who wants more Seb chapters? Who wants more James chapters? Who
     wants more Sherrinford chapters? Who wants more Jim being a dick to
     Seb? Come on guys I need ideas for chapters! I know where this story
     is going, but I wanna know what you guys want as well. This is your
     story just as much as it is mine.
***** Insufferable *****
Chapter Summary
     Sebastian is a morning person. Jim is not a morning person. Let's see
     how that goes!
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
Sebastian Moran is a morning person. The way he paces around the room and talks
on the phone. The way he makes coffee and mumbles to himself. The way he sits
down on the couch before getting restless and walking around again. The way he
starts to complain about the mess of his room and continues to wander around.
I rolled over, shoving my head under the pillow and hoping it would block out
the noise. No such luck. If anything it only made things worse! "Will you shut
the fuck up and sit down!" I yelled, throwing the phone at the him, ripping it
from the wall at the same time. I didn't hit him. Mostly because I still had
the pillow over my head.
Sebastian laughed, and I could hear his footsteps getting closer to the bed.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!" He sang, putting the useless phone on the
bedside table again. I threw the pillow at him, hitting him in the chest and
throwing the quilt over my head instead. "I'm getting a shower, I suggest you
get dressed, your driver will be here soon."
I opened my eyes, looking up at the blond from a small gap in the quilt.
"You're coming to the office with me, we have things to sort out." I mumbled
through the cotton sheets. Sebastian shrugged, walking away in to the bathroom,
returning a moment later and placing my clothes on the bed, before going to get
his shower.
I lay on my back, arms spread out on the bed and staring at the ceiling.
Running water driving me insane and music playing. I clenched my hands into
fists and threw them down on the bed, forcing myself to get up and dressed.
Sebastian was still in the shower, the constant hum of the music like a drill
inside my head. I decided it best to just divulge myself in work. Setting up
several meetings and checking in on the several main areas of the empire.
Sending snipers to deal with loose ends and making sure everyone had been paid
sufficiently, along with making sure I hadn't been cheated out of anything, but
that was becoming a rarity.
My phone didn't stop ringing after that though, always the way. Once they know
I'm doing the rounds word spreads, and I get a full report from everyone, which
is helpful, but drives me fucking insane.
"Sounds like someones desperate to talk to you, I can't imagine why." Sebastian
teased, coming out of the bedroom, hair damp and sticking to his forehead,
those eyes peering through the strands and staring down at me.
I rolled my eyes, turning my attention back to the report that Spencer had sent
me. "When your in charge of three hundred people, you tend to get a lot of
messages." I scoffed, getting to my feet. "Now come on, we have things to do
today, and I do not have time to chat."
•••
It was nine o'clock when we got back to the office, and I could feel my eyes
trying to slip shut again. "Right, your job is to keep me safe. You're going to
be my first and last point of security everywhere I go. You'll stay with me now
that you're clean and you'll be sent out as a sniper when I need you to." I
explained, rather quickly despite my lack of energy. "You'll be in charge of
any mission I send you on within the team and I expect a full report at the end
of each mission. Am I understood?"
Sebastian nodded his head, making mental notes. "So I'll be living with you?"
He questioned, to which I nodded. He rolled his eyes and gave a small laugh,
before sitting forward in his chair. "So what kind of jobs am I doing?"
"You'll be needed to tie up loose ends, alleviate those who think they can get
around me and keeping me from being shot. You'll be needed to attend meetings
and events. I'll also be needing you for torture, I hope you don't have a
problem with that?" I clarified, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.
Sebastian nodded again, "So what's my jobs today, boss?"
I sighed, looking at him again and checked the time. Ten o'clock. "You'll need
some new clothes, I'll leave you to get them. You can buy yourself some things
for the house, which I will take you to before I allow you to leave my sight.
I'll be working from home today so don't disturb me when you get back. Here's a
card, there's ten thousand pound on that, should be enough for clothes and
whatever else. Call it a bonus, but don't expect it all the time."
Sebastian nodded, taking the card from between my fingers, and looking over it.
"The pin number is 0221." I told him, shrugging. The number that haunts my
life. "Now let's go, I have work to do," I stood up making my way towards the
door, with the blond following behind. "And if you come home high Sebastian
Moran." I turned around abruptly, causing Sebastian to stagger back slightly.
"Yes, boss?" He asked, not exactly scared, but more... Fed up?
"If you come home high, Moran, I will make sure your life is a misery. You do
not get high, unless I give permission. And you will not be getting that." I
spoke calmly, eyes narrowed and dark. "Ever!"
"Yes, boss." He agreed, crossing his arms over his chest.
•••
"Your room is over there, my room, bathroom, kitchen, living room." I spoke,
pointing to each door and walking further into the apartment. "If you ever
speak a word of where you live, who you live with or any other information
about this address I will personally kill you. Slowly, painfully and every
day."
"Trust me, I've no one to tell." He laughed, walking around and looking at
everything. "So what time do you want me back for, or am I trusted to come back
whenever I want?"
"Three o'clock. You can take the car. Driver's names Bill in case you wondered.
I've informed him of the time I want you back by and what I'm sending you for.
Do not make me wait. I am not a patient man."
Sebastian nodded, turning around to leave again. "You should eat something, you
look pale." He added before leaving the apartment. I rolled my eyes, flopping
onto the couch and staring at the ceiling. His eyes burned into my memory. The
bright blue that reflected in the dull light of the sun and how his lips curled
into a smile.
I was not thinking about this! I met the man merely a few weeks ago! I am not
thinking about this. I thought to myself, digging my phone out of my pocket. I
needed something to distract myself. Someone...
•••
Damien got here no more than twenty five minutes after I had sent out the text.
He wasn't going to be alive much longer, so this could be fun. Fuck then kill.
Perfect. "You called boss?" He smirked, knowing what I had called him here for.
I had used him several times in the past.
"You know what to do, Damien. Do not make me wait. We will be in the bedroom
today though." I informed him, leading the way, hands shoved in my pockets.
Damien closed the door behind him, shoving me down on the bed and placing a
small kiss to my jaw. "Strip." He ordered. I rolled my eyes, removing my jacket
and shirt, leaving the tie wrapping around my neck and swiftly moving to my
pants. Damien smirked, too cocky for his own good.
"You're not in charge here, remember that." I growled, kneeling on the bed.
"I know, boss." He agreed, but I could hear the smile as he rummaged through
the drawers. I rolled my eyes again, as he gripped the tie, hanging loosing
around my neck and pulled me towards him. "You want to be hurt first, or are we
just going to get straight into things?" He laughed, biting down on my neck.
"Just get on with it. We have plenty of fun to come." I smirked, the images of
him lying dead covered in his own blood playing through my mind. Damien nodded
against my neck, and ran his tongue over the spot he had bitten, soothing the
skin.
"Fine by me." He mumbled, moving away and kneeling behind me. Since
Sherrinford's imprisonment, sex had become somewhat enjoyable. Especially since
no matter what, I always had control.
Damien pressed one finger into me, a slow pace starting as he moved in and out.
I groaned, impatiently, pushing back. I didn't beg, and I refused to give any
indication that I was enjoying this, even if I was. Damien was rather smug
about that stuff.
He took the hint another another finger, earning nothing from me, which he had
come to expect. Things were still moving too slowly for my liking through. "I
know for a fact you can do better than this." I snarled, looking back at him.
He shrugged, adding a third finger and picking up the pace a little, twisting
and scissoring his fingers as he went.
My cock was already hard, dripping and painful, and I could see he was getting
impatient himself. As painful as it was to force him to continue, I enjoyed the
pleading look in his eyes whenever I looked back at him. His long, black hair
falling in front of his face as he stared down at me, silently begging.
I kept this up for a few minutes longer, pushing back again and again, forcing
him to wait. "Please, boss..." He begged finally, his pants visibly tight and
looking rather uncomfortable. I nodded, continuing to picture his body limp and
lifeless. The crimson liquid shining in the light.
Damien hurriedly removed his jeans, putting a condom on and covering his cock
in lube and lining himself up. I rolled my eyes again, biting down on my lip,
as he thrust into me in one quick movement. The pace continued just as quick,
Damien snapping his hips each time. However, as he continued I found myself
thinking more and more of Sebastian.
I imagined he was there instead of Damien, those bright eyes watching me as he
thrust in and out, tangling his fingers in my hair, and tugging harshly on the
tie so it choked me. His lips trailing down my neck, leaving bruise after
bruise as he went. Using a knife to tear at my skin and causing blood to pour
over my chest.
During these fantasies I hadn't realised I was moaning and whimpering beneath
Damien. His eyes lighting up in a certain joy. I bit down on my lip, drawing a
little blood, and trying to silence myself, but the images continued to flash
across my mind, every time I shut my eyes. I was pretty thankful once
everything was over with... And if I had said Sebastian's name during any of
it. No one would know...
Damien and I quickly dressed, when the front door opened. I squeezed my eyes
shut, pinching the bridge of my nose as the boy looked at me, his hair still
damp from sweat and sticking to his face. "Come on, that'll be my next
appointment." I smirked, knowing I was about to have him killed anyways.
Damien nodded, following me out of the bedroom, and walking straight into the
larger man. "Oh sorry... I didn't mean to..." Damien stuttered, looking up at
Sebastian who just shrugged.
"I have a job for you. It's on the table." I told him, and turning to walk to
the bathroom, leaving the two men alone.
Chapter End Notes
     Okay, yes I know the sex was rushed, but I didn't want it to be the
     main focus of the chapter. Also I've been working on this for four
     hours... Procrastination is my best skill. So yeah... Enjoy!
***** Gay? *****
Chapter Summary
     Sebastian's first night...
Chapter Notes
     I'm thinking of a mini series of Jim and Sebastian together? Any
     thoughts?
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
Sebastian got home a couple hours later, blood splattered across his shirt, and
face as he stood in the living room. His lips were curled into a smile and eyes
shining, the endorphins still coursing through his blood. "Shower. You're going
to get blood all over the carpet!" I ordered, throwing a towel at him.
I lay down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling and running my hand over the
carpet. The soft material calming my thoughts as I tried to focus. Plans were
forming in my mind, things I hadn't thought of doing yet and it was giving me a
headache.
Sebastian nodded, making his way towards the bathroom, silent as usual. "So why
did you have me kill your boyfriend?" He asked, turning abruptly and staring
down at me. I shrugged, sitting up and turning around to stare at him from my
position on the couch. The blood was drying an sticking to his skin, and
thankfully not dropping down on to the floor.
"Not my boyfriend." I growled, throwing my arms over my chest. "Just someone to
fuck when I get stressed." Sebastian gave a laugh, his hand resting on the door
knob and turning his back to me.
"Never expected you to be gay," he shrugged twisting the handle and opening the
door. "Not openly anyways."
I jumped to my feet, walking towards the soldier, eyes narrowed. "What's that
suposed to mean, Moran!" I yelled, grabbing his throat, rather awkwardly and
pushing him back against the wall. He laughed, gripping my wrist and and
stopping me from choking him too much.
"Just thought it might be bad for business." He mumbled, eyes locking with mine
for just a moment. I growled, pulling my hand away and rubbing my wrist, the
skin slightly red, as bruises began to form on Sebastian's neck.
"Ronnie Kray never had a problem from it." I smirked, remembering the stories
my grandmother had told me as a child of the infamous gangsters. Stories that
had stuck in my mind and gave me great joy to read and remember.
Sebastian shrugged again, moving away from me and into the bathroom. "You're
not Ronnie Kray." He whispered, disappearing behind the door and switching on
the shower.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, sitting down on the couch again. He was right.
I was no gangster. I was a monster, and monsters didn't show feeling for
people, gay or straight. I needed to be less emotional. Stress couldn't get the
best of me.
I lay back, closing my eyes and sighing. Work could wait for a couple hours
while I figured everything out. I zoned out, my mind palace slowly coming into
view. I stood in the middle of the room, staring up at the many books. Moving
closer I could read the titles, each one labelled another memory until I
finally found the one I was looking for. Emotions.
I poured everything out into it, keeping only anger and hatred. Then shut the
book, tightly placing it between two other books. I had to repress it all. I
couldn't be showing any weakness in my line of work, and allowing myself to be
fucked by employees is doing just that.
"Boss?" Sebastian's voice sounded. I groaned, slowly exiting my mind, and
opening one eye.
"What?" I snapped, looking up at the blond, his skin red and hair soaked
sticking to his forehead. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, and looked a
little concerned.
"Your phones been ringing for twenty minutes, and it's driving me insane." He
informed me. I nodded, sitting up and rubbing my eyes, the sound of my ringtone
filling the awkward silence between us. "Who the fuck has Bach as a ringtone?"
Sebastian piped up.
I laughed, picking up the piece of machinery and checking the ID.
"Not gonna answer it?" Sebastian asked, as I threw my phone back on the table.
I groaned, throwing my head back and staring at the ceiling once again. "Look,
boss. I'm sorry for what I said earlier. It was-"
"Shut up, Sebastian. I don't care." I snapped, running my hands through my
hair. "Tomorrow I have to introduce you to Spencer. He runs the drug cartels,
if you touch anything I will cut your fucking eye out. Understood?" He nodded
his head, keeping his mouth shut. Not out of fear, but more not wanting to
start an arguement.
"Have you ate yet?" Sebastian asked after a few more minutes. I didn't reply,
continuing to stare above me, eyes tracin over the pattern in the ceiling. I
have to move soon, bigger apartment. This place wasn't big enough for us both.
"I'm ordering us both take out, what do you want?"
"Whatever, Sebastian. I'll be in my room." I told him bluntly, before going to
start house searching.
•••
"Foods here. I don't suppose you wanna get crumbs everywhere." Sebastian spoke
through the door. His voice was rather soft, a large contrast to the way he
looked and the job he did.
I took a deep breath, picking up my laptop and leaving the room. "Which do you
like better?" I asked, placing the computer in front of him and taking a seat
at the table. It was a simple korma and some chips, nothing special but it
tasted alright. It was also the first thing I had ate that day, so I was
greatful to have it.
"Moving, boss?" He asked, flipping through the tabs I had open.
"This apartment isn't big enough for both of us." I mumbled, eating a chip and
watching Sebastian flicking through a second time.
"This one looks rather nice, and has plenty of places to hide cameras without
any blind spots. No where surrounding it that people can hide and get a kill
shot. Windows aren't big enough to get a good view inside, even without
curtains. Not too big a garden, so easy to maintain and no way of anyone hiding
in it. Basement, always useful and a sound proof room, which unfortunately I'll
be using during the time between Bonfire night and New Year." He explained,
scanning over the screen once again.
"So you do suffer PTSD." I mumbled, a sly smile plastered to my face as I
looked at him. He gave a small nod, obviously embarrassed about it. "That one
it is then." I agreed. I'd need to work out a way of surviving through the
nights between those dates, but it shouldn't be too much of a problem. Maybe an
alarm or something?
I pulled my phone out, arranging things with my men, reminding myself to find
out each of their names and have them killed. Just in case they share my
location with anyone. I was not going through that again.
We continued to eat in silence, Sebastian fidgeting in his seat obviously very
uncomfortable. I finished my food, placing the plate in the dishwasher and
moving back to my seat. "I don't care about what you said, Moran. I've had
people say it before and there will be people who say it again. Yes being gay
can cause problems in this industry. Stereotypes are a bitch. This is why no
one knows. Anyone who has found out has been killed, and if you allow anyone to
find out I will make sure you join them. Do I make myself clear?"
Sebastian nodded again, more uncomfortable than he was previously. "Good. Now
we're moving Friday, I'll have some people pick up our stuff and move it.
Tomorrow you will meet Spencer. I have a job for you to do on Saturday,
Wednesday we need to visit Richard and Thursday your brother is in town, so you
have the day off."
"Thank you, sir." He mumbled. I nodded my head, physically and mentally drained
after the day's events. "I really am sorry for what I said."
"You'll have to get over your homosexual awkwardness Moran. Things are only
going to become more uncomfortable for you." I laughed, sauntering off to my
room. "There's a shot of Methadone in the top drawer of your bedside table.
You've got two more days on it, I suggest you take it before you sleep."
I changed, climbing into the bed and sinking into the mattress. Sebastian
stayed up most of the night, watching random programmes and mumbling things to
himself. I groaned, rolling over in the sheets. "Moran! Will you lower that god
forsaken television-" I yelled, storming into the living room, to find the
blond fast asleep on the couch.
"Moran!" I screamed, causing him to wake and fall off the couch with a thud.
"Go. To. Bed!"
"Yes, sir." He mumbled, still quite dazed. I nodded, switching off the TV.
Throwing the remote at him, hitting his chest. "Sorry, sir..."
***** Spencer *****
Chapter Summary
     Introductions are rather boring.
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
"We need house rules." I spoke as soon as Sebastian entered the room, his hair
a mess and eyes heavy from sleep. He nodded, stifling a yawn and sitting on the
couch. "The house stays clean. Every morning I have someone come and clean
everything, they remove all traces of who lives here. I do not want to make
their job harder, so do keep the place clean.
"I use sex for multiple reasons, so do not enter my room without knocking. I
will allow you to bring females back, but please keep it minimal and do refrain
from bringing back cheap whores. I can recommend you some if you like, I'd just
prefer to not have you sick from cheap sex.
"Don't leave weapons lying around. I have made arrangements for an extention on
the new house as a weapons room. For now they are stored in that cupboard
there. Do keep them clean, and in the right places. It's organised rather
nicely." I informed him, throwing a key at him. "Do not break the rules Moran.
I will not hesitate to kill you. You are not special and you are replaceable.
Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal." He mumbled, stuffing the key in his pocket and getting to his feet.
"Break fast?"
•••
"Spencer this is my body guard Moran. He'll be checking in every so often. I'll
also eventually be putting him in charge of this division." I told the boy. He
gave a large grin and held his hand out for the soldier to shake.
"Nice to meet you, Moran," He spoke. Spencer had been working for me for a
pretty long time, and therefore was one of the only people to not be afraid of
me. It was rather annoying sometimes, but came in handy when I needed to talk
to someone who wasn't going to tell me what I want to hear.
Sebastian shook his hand, giving him a friendly smile and they both turned
their attention back to me. "I'm only here to introduce you both, if you could
explain to Moran the way things are run, show him a few reports and explain it
to him that would be great." I told them both, before turning and walking to
the door. "I'll be back in an hour."
Spencer and Sebastian had already started their discussion before I made it out
the room, finding Bill leaning against the car, a cigarette hanging from his
mouth. "Wanna go get some coffee?" I asked, standing next to him. He shrugged,
opening the car door and throwing the cancer stick to the ground.
"Any reason particular that you don't want to stick around, sir?" Bill asked,
not really trying to pry. He just knew that if I asked to get coffee, there was
something I needed advice on. Bill being the only person I could talk to,
mostly because he was Aunt May's brother.
Bill and I were never close, although he was technically my uncle. Step-uncle.
"I just need to get away from work for a bit. Stress is getting to me." I lied,
those bright eyes flashing through my thoughts. I shook my head, leaning back
in the car seat. "Would you mind putting the radio on?"
"Not a problem, anything in particular?" He asked. I thought for a moment
before mumbling out an answer, and the within seconds Johan Sebastian Bach was
playing through the speakers. And I realised how bad and idea it was.
Thoughts of Sebastian whirled through my mind. Tied up, covered in blood,
dragging a knife over his skin, gagged, bruised, beaten, chained down, begging,
pleading and struggling. Thoughts of his face covered in cuts and tears and
screaming.
We pulled up outside a cafe, Bill opening the door for me and locking the car.
"Anything in particular you'd like?" I asked, and Bill shook his head, leading
the way into the small cafe and taking our seats. I ordered us both a simple
coffee, and turned my attention to the small man sitting before me.
"So what's on your mind?" He questioned, jumping straight to why I had asked
him here. I rolled my eyes, resting my arms on the table and sighed.
"I keep having these weird thoughts... About Moran." I stated simply, waiting
for him to continue the conversation, but instead he opted to just stare at me.
His face showing no emotion as he stared straight at me.
"What kind of thoughts?" He asked eventually, noticing I was not going to give
him any further explination. The waitress arrived with our drinks then, placing
them on the table and giving me a large grin, running his hand over my arm as
she walked away.
I rolled my eyes, glaring at her quickly and facing Bill again. "Like...
violent thoughts. Only not to kill him." I spoke, furrowing my eyebrows and
realising how insane that sounded, and not the usual insanity I sprouted off.
Bill thought for a moment and raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to elaborate.
"I thought about him tied up and bloody, screaming and crying." I explained
vaguely. He shrugged tilting his head to the side and glancing at me.
"Are they torture thoughts or..." He trailed off searching for the right word
before giving a small smirk. "Are they thoughts you like in another way?"
"Bill I will kill you if you ever breath a word of this." I snapped, sipping my
coffee. He held his hands up in surrender, but continued to smirk.
"You're probably just going through a bad boy phase. Or maybe you're falling in
love." He laughed. I kicked him from beneath the table, setting the cup down
and rising to my feet. Bill followed suit, throwing a few bills onto the table
and following me out of the small cafe.
"Back to Moran, sir?" He asked. I nodded, climbing into the car and pulling out
my phone.
•••
Moran climbed in next to me, his eyes drooping and obviously extreamly tired.
"It won't be too much for you will it?" I asked, still staring at the device in
my hand. He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. "You should
get that cut." I mumbled aloud. He froze for a moment, before catching on and
humming in agreement.
"You run a pretty tight knit web, don't you? Wouldn't that be easy to
collapse?" He asked, as we started driving.
"You'd think so, but no. I have made plans for every possibly situation there
is. If one goes down, the others get stronger. Every thing is perfectly in
place that it can't be tracked or destroyed. Simply put on hold until it can be
mended." I explained, before searching through my pockets. "This is yours for
business purposes. Keep it charged and switched on, and make sure you can hear
it at all times, unless on a mission, or in a meeting."
I thrust a small black phone at him, still typing with my other hand. "Yes,
boss." He said simply, taking the device and placing it in his pocket. "So
what's next on the list?"
"Next is a quick visit to the new house. I need to give the decorators the
design ideas by tonight." I informed him. Bill looked up in the mirror giving
me a smirk, and quickly turning his attention back to the road. I kicked the
back of his chair, glaring at him as Sebastian raised an eyebrow, suddenly
nervous to be in the vehicle.
"I'll need you to give me your opinions on each room, and also decide on your
own." Sebastian nodded, and once again ran a hand through his hair. "Then we'll
be at the barbers, before I slit your throat for running your hand through your
fucking hair again!"
"Sorry, boss." He grumbled, and relaxed. I nodded, and shoved my phone into my
pocket, leaning back in the chair.
"How would you feel if I hired your brother to look after Richard?"
***** Richard! *****
Chapter Summary
     Jim and Sebastian are not good with social calls.
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
"So what time do you need me back by?" Sebastian asked, crossing the room
towards the front door. I shrugged, checking the time on my phone.
"Two o'clock?" I asked. He nodded, and grabbed his jacket from the hook.
Sebastian turned around, taking one last look at me, opening his mouth as
though he was going to say something, before deciding against it.
"See you then, Boss." He spoke quietly, and left the apartment. I had sent him
to order a decent gun rack and pick up a few new weapons. As well as to get his
hair cut. I on the other hand, was trying to find a way to keep busy.
I paced around the room, nervous to visit my brother. I always was, terrified
in case I caused him to be hurt again. Sebastian had been adamant about keep
Severin away from my 'web' as he had called it.
Severin wasn't as head strong as Sebastian apparently, and he wanted to keep
his brother safe. I curled up on the couch, my laptop resting in my lap as I
began my research. I searched medical record, school records, uni records. I
found everything I could about Severin Moran.
He was a rather good person. Worked in the army just like his brother. About to
finish his second tour. No prison records, and nothing serious on his medical
records. Shot in the lower back eight months prior, but no serious damage.
He was obviously very muscular and had extensive training with firearms, only
not as experienced as his brother. They were definitely twins, their blond hair
and blue eyes. Severing were a shade darker though, and his hair slightly
lighter. He was also missing the large scars down his back that reminded me of
tiger stripes that Sebastian had.
Eventually the time came to leave though, and I shut down the computer.
Sebastian was waiting outside, leaning against the car with Bill, a cigarette
hanging from his lips and Bill holding one between his fingers.
I rolled my eyes, walking towards them. "Did you finish everything?" I asked
the blond, his hair now a lot shorter, and neater, no longer falling in front
of his eyes.
"Gun rack is being delivered Monday, the other stuffs in the boot and hair is
shorter." He spoke, taking another drag from the cancer stick.
"We're going to be late." I stated simply walking around the car, and climbing
into the back seat. Bill and Sebastian joined me a little while later, having
finished their smoke and throw the things on the ground.
Sebastian sat beside me, tapping away on his phone, already looking stressed. I
found it rather amusing to watch, the way his eyebrows furrowed together and he
bit his lip. Eyes narrowed and snarling at the screen.
The drive was relatively quick and completely silent. Sebastian replying to a
new message every so often, but refusing to ask for help. I had Spencer writing
a report up anyways, making sure that his job was going well and he wasn't
causing things to fall apart.
The house came into view and I could see all the lights were off, curtains
drawn and windows shut. It was a strange sight, even in the winter. Richard
hated the curtains being shut during the day, he said it was too depressing.
The lack of lighting giving him an unsettling feeling.
I climbed out as soon as we had stopped, Bill not having a chance to turn the
car off before I was unlocking the front door. Sebastian followed behind a few
seconds later.
Richard was lay on the couch, blanket wrapped tightly around his thin frame and
eyes dread and puffy. His hair was a mess, cheeks stained with tears. "Richy?"
I whispered, slipping the mask of normality I usually wore around him onto my
face.
He jumped a little from the sudden noise, looking up at me, tired and empty
eyes staring. "Oh... Hey James. Sorry, I forgot you were..." He trailed off,
looking around nervously, before tears started pouring down his face. Sebastian
entered the room a few seconds later, freezing in his tracks as he saw the
scene before him.
"Go make tea. Black, two sugars for Richard." I told him, nodding towards the
kitchen. Sebastian nodded and quickly walked off, grateful for the excuse to
exit the room.
I sat beside the man, bundling him up in my arms and holding him tight. His
face buried into my chest as he sobbed. "Gonna tell me what's going on, Richy?"
He looked up slightly, eyes still full of tears.
"Mum's... Her plane..." He whispered, his voice cracking and giving up on him,
a waterfall of tears cascading down his face again. Sebastian re entered the
room at this point, carrying a tray of coffee and a few biscuits on a plate.
"I figured you might need something to eat, keep your strength up." Sebastian
spoke softly when Richard gave him a questioning look, fighting to keep the
tears at bay.
"Thank you, Moran." I told him, rolling my eyes and turning back to Richard,
carefully sipping his coffee and trying to calm himself down. "Do you mind
staying? I'm not good in these situations." I asked, with a slight laugh.
Sebastian nodded, sitting in the chair across from us both.
"So what happened to ma's plane Rich?" I asked after he had calmed down enough.
Richard took a deep breath, reaching over to the computer he had placed on the
coffee table, opening the lid. The screen flashed on immediately, and a news
article appeared.
Plane crash over the Arctic, no survivors. I sighed, looking at Richard who
simply nodded, a silent answer to a question that didn't need to be asked.
Sebastian looked at us with confusion, and I turned the laptop to face him, his
eyes widening when he saw the headline.
I panicked, holding Richard closer and kissing the top of his head. I didn't
feel anything. Not a single shred of longing, grief, sadness. Nothing. I didn't
feel empty or lost or shocked or any of the usual emotions people go on about
when someone close to them dies. I felt nothing. The same as I would feel if
someone I didn't know had just died.
"It's okay, James... You don't have to pretend to care. I know it's not your
fault." Richard whispered after noticing my small panic. I should feel
something. She's my mother. I can't just feel nothing, as though nothing had
happened. It was like Richard said though; it wasn't my fault. I was made this
way. Emotionless and empty all thanks to him.
Sebastian cocked an eyebrow, looking quite confused to what Richard had just
said, before realisation took over his face. Then it was my turn to be
confused. I shrugged it off, now was not the time to be trying to figure out a
meaningless sniper. "Well you're not staying here on your own. You can stay
with Sebastian and I until Friday, alright?"
"Is that really a good idea, James?" He asked. I shrugged, placing him next to
me on the couch and standing up.
"Probably not, but I'm making arrangements for your protection, so you'll be
okay." I explained, glancing to the blond across from me. "In the mean time,
you and Sebastian wait here. I'll get you some clothes and then we'll be on our
way."
I made my way up the stairs, leaving the two men to keep each other company,
quickly throwing any clothes I could find into a bag and slinging it over my
shoulder. T-shirts, pants, underwear, socks, jackets. I mentally checked
everything off and grabbed another bag throwing toiletries into it and making
my way back to the stairs, when I over heard their conversation.
"It's not me who need's protection. Honestly, James thinks that when I was
kidnapped I couldn't take it, but somehow he's forgotten everything we went
through as kids." Richard spoke, sniffling and obviously crying.
I froze in my tracks, sitting down on the stairs like I had done many times as
a child. Straining to hear their conversation. "He worries about you more than
you think." Sebastian responded, not knowing what else to say.
"He's always been like that. At first it was just because he knew I was weaker
than him and wouldn't be able to survive, but after he forgot... Thing's were
strange. He doesn't even remember it was him who killed the old man. He doesn't
even remember why, Sebastian. I worry about him a lot. I worry that one day
he'll remember and something awful will happen.
"When he was younger, he went through an awful lot, and honestly I'm surprised
he's made it this far. I just hope you understand why he's like this. He can
love and care and he can feel happy and sad, but he did something to himself-
they did something to him. He stopped all of that. He thinks he's some sort of
psychopath and I understand why he would. But he's not.
"James just needs someone to break through the wall he's built around himself.
Show him that not everyone is as bad as Josh and my father. Please just keep
him safe. Take care of him, I don't want to imagine what might happen now that
mother is dead."
"I can't promise anything. We'll talk later though, yeah?" Sebastian spoke up.
Richard didn't reply after that, but I figured he was probably nodding his
head. I waited for a moment, making sure I remembered every part of their
conversation before walking back downstairs.
Thoughts were plaguing my mind though. I could remember everything. I did
remember everything. So what could he possibly be talking about? Richard looked
up with tired eyes, and gave a sad smile. "Ready?"
***** Severin *****
Chapter Summary
     Another Sebastian chapter!
Chapter Notes
     I'll probably jump ahead a little in the next chapter. We're going to
     have some memories and James is just going to get worse. Things will
     makes sense.
     I don't like loose strings.
Name: Sebastian Moran
Age: 27
Something wasn't right. Moriarty was paranoid. Richard was worrying and I was
left to look after them. Thankfully I had the day off to meet Severin. I could
feel myself going insane from looking after the twins.
Something wasn't right though. Richard had already told me about James
repressing things, forgetting his past and becoming the emotionless man I had
come to live with. He wasn't his annoying self though. He didn't yell or scream
or demand to play stupid games. He wasn't bothered by the television being left
on or how loud it was. I had known him less that two weeks and I knew this
wasn't right. Between what Richard had told me and his mother, this wasn't
normal.
I sat down in one of the metal chairs at the airport, watching as people milled
about, searching for their terminals and checking they had their passports and
tickets. Kids running around, shouting and yelling and laughing.
No fear, no worry, no one having any idea that a trained assassin was sitting
only a few feet away from them. "Sebastian Moran." A familiar voice spoke. I
looked up, finding the face of my twin brother, a large grin and bright eyes.
"How're you?" He asked, holding out a hand and pulling me up.
"I'm good." I smiled, pulling him towards me and wrapping my arms around him.
"It's been a while, how have things been?" I asked pulling away. Severin
nodded, fixing his bag on his shoulder.
"Good, yeah, good. Finished for good now. Gonna become a boring mundane." He
laughed, as we left the airport. "So what's new with you?"
"Same old crazy shit." I shrugged, as we walked through the street, the cold
air blowing against us, cutting through my skin like daggers. I sighed,
wrapping my jacket around myself, following Severin to his hotel.
"So what's on your mind? You seem exhausted." He laughed, putting his arm
around my shoulders. I shrugged and stifled a yawn.
"Just tired. New job's got me rushed off my feet." We stopped at a road,
waiting for the lights to change. "It's actually something I want to talk to
you about." I sighed, shutting my eyes. What the fuck am I doing? I thought to
myself.
Severin nodded, glancing at me, before starting to cross the road. Rain was
beginning to fall over us, as I battled with my thoughts, when the familiar
sing song voice perked up. "Sebastian! There you are! And you must be Severin,
nice to meet you. I'm Jim, Sebastian's boss and room mate. He's told me all
about you!" He grinned.
I looked at him rather confused and worried, his usual Westwood suit replaced
with a grey v-neck and some simple black jeans. If I didn't know better, I
would have sworn that he was Richard. "Hi, Sebastian didn't tell me he had a
room mate, I feel so sorry for you. He's quite annoying to live with." He
teased, shaking 'Jim's' hand.
"Jim hey, what are you doing here?" I asked, gritting my teeth and glaring at
him. Moriarty grinned again, tilting his head to the side and turning around to
walk with us, slotting himself between Severin and I.
"Well I figured if you really want me to consider your brother for the job,
then I should meet him." He laughed. I stopped in my tracks, watching him as
they continued to walk. When did I...?
"So I need someone to look after him. We can negotiate a salary, and...
Sebastian catch up, you're supposed to be in this conversation." He joked,
turning around narrowing his eyes. Severin gave me a worried look, waiting for
me to catch up with them.
"Sorry. I just, got lost in my own head." I laughed, forcing a smile and
walking towards them.
Severin gave me a questioning luck, which I shook off, beginning to walk ahead
of them as they spoke. "So what do you think, Sebastian, your brother would
make an excellent addition to the team, especially if he's even half as good as
you!"
"Yeah, it'd be good for you. Shame you won't have that mundane life you
wanted." I commented, hoping he would catch on to what I was telling him. It
was no good though, Severin just laughed mumbling something about 'mundane is
boring', before accepting the job offer.
"Well I'll leave you both to it, Sebastian will pick you up tomorrow and bring
you to my office and we can go over everything, I'll introduce you to Richard
as well. It was nice to meet you!" Jim sang, skipping over to me and winking.
"Pick up some milk on your way home, please Sebastian. I'll be home late."
"Sure." I spat, crossing my arms over my chest as Severin appeared at my side.
"You really gonna take the job?"
"Yeah, I need the money and it doesn't seem so bad. Just some security work,
how bad can it be?" He laughed. I felt a shiver through my body, blood running
cold at his words.
"You've no idea." I mumbled, and we continued our journey to the hotel.
•••
I stepped into the apartment finding Richard curled up on the couch watching a
movie, with the lights off. "Your demon brother home yet?" I asked, making my
way to the kitchen, carton of milk in hand.
Richard laughed, shaking his head, and following me into the much brighter
room. "No, he said I should be careful when you got home that you didn't
mistake me for him, though." He joked.
"Yeah you're lucky that people can tell you apart, I'd have ringed your neck
otherwise." Richard shrugged, taking the milk out of my hand and grabbing two
cup, beginning to boil some water.
"What's he done this time?" Richard sighed, leaning against the counter with an
amused smirk on his lips. I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.
"He's given my brother a job as your body guard, after I repeatedly told him to
stay away." I sighed, leaning against the fridge, hands behind my head. "How
the fuck do you put up with him?"
Richard laughed again, shrugging. "He's not so bad. I'll talk to him if you
want?" He offered. I shook my head, as he handed me a cup of tea. "He's not as
bad as he seems. He's just gone through a lot. Trust is a serious issue with
him. I'm pretty surprised that he's allowed you to live with him."
"I can see why he has. I'd be trying to kill him too." Richard smirked walking
holding out the milk.
"I'm serious, Sebastian. He's had this thing since Josh, convinced that
everyone was out to get him, and he hasn't got close to anyone. Scared they'll
be the same as him."
"He runs half the criminal underworld, hardly the best type of job for someone
so paranoid." I scoffed, following the smaller man to the couch, and sitting
beside him.
"I never said he was fucking sane." Richard laughed, turning back to his
children's film and singing along to one of the random songs. They really were
just two fucking kids. I thought starting to watch the film.
Richard seemed pretty content as we watched, calm and focused, his eyes trained
on the screen. He had a faint smile on his lips, which was something he hadn't
done much of since he got here. His skin wasn't as pale as James', he had a
light tan and was missing the many scars his brother donned on his arms and
around his neck.
Richard had a more relaxed aura about him aswell, things weren't strained and
you didn't have to fight to get answers. He wouldn't purposely look for an
argument like I had found James does a lot, and you could sit in a comfortable
silence with him. Rather than the constant weight of fear you had lingering
with James.
There was something I didn't like about it though. It was like the calm before
the storm, as you're stalking a tiger and you're waiting for it to pounce. With
James you knew he was in charge, and you had strict rules to follow, otherwise
he would blow up. Richard seemed to just keep you waiting. Constantly on edge
that he was about to erupt like his brother, but it never happened.
For twins, they couldn't be less alike. There was something about Richard's
eyes too. James' were dull and lifeless, and empty void that could only be
filled with violence and torture. The way his eyes lit up and glistened after
the first kill, and even more so when he watched Sherrinford begging and
crying, it was like seeing the whole universe.
Richard's were full of life and joy. There was nothing hidden within them. Open
and honest, almost childlike innocence filling them. It was beautiful but not
in the same way as James'. The danger behind them and the pain they hid.
I thought back to the night in the hotel, the glistening in his eyes as all
husband cared were stripped away, even just for one night. The way he smiled
and laughed and ran around and joked.
That wasn't James though. That was another mask. A mask showing how he wished
he could be, but knowing he would never achieve it. The beautiful portrait of a
child trapped within his own body, haunted by his memories. It was almost
poetic. Everything little thing about the criminal was so intriguing and
complicated.
It was like a game and James loved games. Trying to figure him out, seeing if
you can see the truth behind the lies, and hoping that you might catch a
glimpse of the man behind the mask. A glimpse of James Brook.
He was like a drug. My own personal brand of heroin, and trust me I had tried
the best. This was different though. I craved him, I crave dinner to see what
he was truely like. To hear his voice and have his hands against my skin. To
see him smile amd laugh, to wrap his legs around my waste.
It was that moment that I realised that in just a few short days, I was
completely and utterly in love with James Moriarty. It was at that moment i
realised that I was not as straight as I once thought and it was at that
moment, the bastard walked through the door with a young blonde and stumbled
off into his bedroom.
***** Torturous *****
Chapter Summary
     When Jim accidentally kills a whore, he ends up causing a spiral of
     events. Eventually leading him to find out the truth.
Chapter Notes
     Rather dark chapter, probably one of my favourites to write! Also
     don't forget news coming this Friday about Sherlock! Hopefully it
     won't just be about the convention. I'm convinced there's an episode
     four!
     Don't forget to kudos and comment, I reply to every single one!
     Eventually...
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
"What's your name, sexy?" The blond questioned, his arms snaking around my
waist. I rolled my eyes pushing him up against the door of my room and gripping
his shoulders.
"Names don't matter, it's not like I'll be seeing you again." I smirked,
leaning in to kiss across his jaw and down his neck, his breath hitting my
cheek as I moved, and a low moan escaping his lips.
He was heavily toned, with a slight tan. His eyes a bright blue and hair
slightly longer than my own. He had tattoos covering his arms and chest, a few
small scars covering his neck, probably from previous customers. Yes, he was a
whore.
"Strip, and then I want you on your hands and knees at the edge of the bed." I
demanded, leaving the room and heading to the bathroom. Sebastian and Rochard
were still sat on the couch watching a pathetic cartoon, engrossed in
conversation. "You don't mind sleeping on the couch tonight do you, Sebastian?"
I laughed, disappearing to find the lube.
"I'll survive." He spat, once I had reentered the room. Richard glared at me,
before turning to Sebastian. His hair was a mess and looked almost sickly pale
next to Sebastian. His eyes red from crying, but he was doing a lot better than
the previous day.
I nodded, and turned to head back into my room, when the faint sound of someone
rummaging through a drawer could be heard. "Then again, maybe the whole room
will be red in a moment." I growled, skipping down the corridor towards the
wooden door.
I opened the door just a touch, seeing the blond scurrying around the room, his
clothes discarded to the side as he searched through one of the bedside
drawers. "You're not very smart for a whore are you?" I grinned, crossing my
ankles and leaning against the doorframe, his slender body going stiff and
blood draining as he knelt in front of the wooden furniture.
"Did no one teach you that it's rude to snoop through other people's things." I
spoke calmly, the smirk evident in my voice as I trailed my eyes over the boy's
body. "Damn I was looking forward to a quick shag tonight, but I think this is
going to be much more fun."
He couldn't move, he didn't even turn to look at me. His body was visibly
shaking with fear though and I could now see the tattoo traced onto the back of
his arm. The sign of Augliero, the German mafia, and the only people standing
between me and the biggest arms dealers in Britain. "I'm guessing you already
know who I am, and if that tattoo is anything to go by, you'll know how big a
mistake you have made being caught."
"Please don't kill me!" The boy finally screamed, dread and fear lacing
together as he fell to the ground, curling in on himself and sobbing. "They
forced me to, they were gonna kill me! Please!" He begged, shoulders heaving as
he cried.
I rolled my eyes, "If you think this pathetic attempt of begging is going to
change my mind, you are sorely wrong. Have you heard nothing about me?" I
scoffed, throwing the bottle of lube at him, hitting the back of his head and
sending him forward, hitting his forehead against the wooden drawers. A large
gash appeared, blood spilling slowly down his face. "You're not going to be
makin it out of here alive."
The blond sobbed harder, curling further into himself again. I moved towards
him, dragging him up by the hair into a standing position. "You're going to
stay right here, do not move. When I come back if I find you in any other
position or any other part of the room, I will make this a million times worse
for you." I snapped, and turned to leave.
Sebastian and Richard had finished their movie and we're talking quietly on the
couch when I appeared. "Done so soon, boss?" Sebastian teased, earning a glare.
I crossed the room, heading into the kitchen and searching through the drawers,
finding a rather large knife.
Richard caught sight of it as I made my way back, his eyes going slightly wide.
"James, you realise it's not smart to take a knife into the bedroom?" He asked,
a worried look in his eyes as I walked past, completely ignoring his quieries.
The blond was stood exactly where I had left him, his face now red and puffy
from crying and tears still rolling down his cheeks. "Turn around." I demanded,
twirling the life between my fingers and looking him up and down.
The boy complied, turning so his back was to me, and waited patiently. I
dragged the tip of blade across his skin gently, careful not to tear it, that
was for later. His skin paled the longer I dragged the knife, his whole body
trembling.
His hands clenched tightly into fists, arms stiff at his sides as I leaned
forward, my breath hitting his neck. He shuddered, trying to lean forward and
out of the way, as I pressed the blade in slightly, just enough to leave faint
scratches this time.
My lips pressed gently against his neck, "So beautiful." I whispered, gripping
his wrist and slowly kissing down his arm. He remained still, eyes facing
forward and staring at the window, hoping to ignore everything that was
happening.
Once again I pressed the knife down slightly harder, causing a small amount of
blood to seep through the cuts, but not enough to cause any real damage. They
would heal within a couple days, no marks, just a slight sting.
I grinned once again, trailing my tongue across bright red lines, collecting
the shining red bubbles of blood. The boy continued to stand there, stock still
as I did this. Tears welling in his eyes. "Relax, you'll feel much better if
you do." I whispered against his skin, placing a kiss on the criss-cross
pattern I had created.
The blond shook his head, taking a deep breath as I walked around him, the
knife dragging against his waist and leaving behind a crimson trail. He
swallowed hard as he stared into my eyes, fear evident as more tears threatened
to spill over his cheeks.
"James!" Someones voice broke through the haze I was currently in. I shook my
head, blinking a few times before the actual scene in front of me came through.
The boy was whimpering in pain. Blood spilling from his mouth as he hunched
over, the knife stabbed through his stomach.
Richard stood behind him, a look of horror on his face as his eyes met mine.
"Sebastian!" He screamed, unable to look away from me and the dying boy. I was
frozen, eyes staring into Richards and hand still firmly holding the knife, a
sticky red liquid covering my pale skin.
The sniper entered the room, taking one look at the situation and shaking his
head. "If you want him dead, twist and remove the knife. If you want him alive
let go off the knife now." He instructed. I didn't even think about it,
twisting my wrist and pulling the knife out in one swift motion. Adrenaline
shot through my body, an orgasmic feeling coursing through me.
"Definitely better than sex." I laughed, pushing the boy and sending him to the
floor. Richard looked like he was going to be sick, the blood draining from his
face as he gripped Sebastian's arm to steady himself.
"You brought him here to kill him?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper. I
laughed and shook my head, throwing the knife on the ground and walking past
them both.
"No, he's a whore, I brought him here to fuck." I dead panned, going into the
bathroom and washing my hands. "He just so happened to work for the German
mafia."
Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, staring down at the boy on the floor of
bedroom. "So I can't spill a drop of water on the carpet, but you can stab a
guy!" He yelled, kneeling down and using the discarded knife to slit his
throat. "You are not charging me for that."
"Shut up, Moran." I spat, throwing the towel at him, and pulling out my phone.
"I'll have this cleaned up soon. Luckily we won't be here much longer."
Sebastian nodded in agreement and pulled Richard out of the room, dragging him
into the kitchen and helping him sit down, handing him a glass of water.
Richard was still a bit shaken, he hadn't witnessed me kill anyone for fun. He
only ever saw the ones I shot...
"How could you... You just... You didn't even care that..." He stuttered, as
Sebastian placed a glass of water in front of him. I rolled my eyes, sitting
across from him and typing a quick text to my clean up crew.
Sebastian leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest and
breathing deeply. "You could have waited until he had left the apartment." He
spat, watching Richard closely.
"Oh please, he was going to see it one day." I scoffed, rolling my eyes again
and leaning forward against the table. "Besides, I think it's time we stop
keeping secrets from each other, don't you?" I snapped, getting to my feet.
Richard seemed confused and nervous, glancing to the colonel stood behind me.
"James, you're scaring me. What's going on?" He asked, trying to stay calm. I
laughed, slamming my hands against the table. Richard jumped, moving back in
his chair and knocking the glass over.
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. "You really don't know what I'm talking
about do you?" I asked, the erily calm feeling falling over us, as we awaited
the inevitable storm.
"James, calm down. You're brothers worried about you. You haven't been yourself
the last few days, all he wants is for you to talk to him." Sebastian
interupted. I gripped the glass in my hand throwing it at him, just narrowly
missing his head and shattering against the wall behind him.
"James!" Richard screamed, jumping to his feet and moving back. Sebastian
grabbed my wrists pinning me up against the wall, his eyes dark and narrowed as
he stared down at me.
"Tell us what's going on!" He demanded, slamming me against the wall. I felt my
skin burning as I connected with the wall, pain radiating through my whole
body.
"Bite me!" I yelled, lashing out at him, managing to get one of my wrists free
and punching him; hard. Sebastian growled, grabbing me again, slamming my back
against the wall once again.
Richard gave a small Yelp as he watched, wide eyed and shaking with fear. "Tell
us what's going on!" Sebastian demanded again. I struggled once again, push him
away and falling to the ground, "James!" He yelled, as my knees hit the ground.
Tears fell down my face and I felt sick to my stomach, eyes filling with tears.
I shut my eyes and watched as the book I had repressed my emotions in burst
open. The contents spilling onto the ground. I swayed back and forth from
reality to the mind palace, my vision blurring and the two places merging
together. I could hear as Sebastian and Richard called out my name.
I watched as their faces faded my mind and was replaced with that of my father,
the anger that built in his eyes as he looked at me. My breathing was sharp and
rapid as I fell further into the spiral of my mind. Books falling to the ground
and memories reenact img themselves in front of me.
The final book fell, falling onto a random page, and I could feel cold air
hitting against my cheeks. The image of Richard and I in a pub appear in before
me. A man entering the pub. "It's done." He mumbled, as I walked towards him. I
recognised him easily, he was Moran's uncle. Why was he there?
More memories fell from the book, the images of my father beating me, his
words, rape, beating, anger, fear, tears, Richard, I ordered his death, Moran,
suicide, Aunt May...
My head was pounding and I could feel my stomach churning. I screamed in pain,
gripping my hair tightly, my whole body feeling heavy and the world moving
slowly. Everything seemed to be in black and white and I could feel an icy cold
feeling wash over me, as I collapsed onto my side.
Sebastian's face appeared in front of me, his eyes filled with worry and fear
as he watched me struggling. "James, James you need to listen to me. You need
to calm down." He spoke carefully, his voice rather soothing as I faded back
into my mind, his voice being the only thing to follow me in. "James I need you
to tell me your name, what's you name?" He begged.
I focused into reality again, seeing Sebastian again, and noticing I had been
moved into another room. "J-James... James... Brook." I stuttered out, before
entering my mind again, the image of my father appearing again, his eyes
narrowed as he snapped a belt in his hands.
"James, come on, don't loose me now. What day is it?" He asked, the image faded
again and once again those bright blue eyes were staring at me. Pleading for me
to answer.
"Thursday..." I whispered, my voice breaking in the middle. I began to cry
again, gripping onto his shirt as I tried to focus on reality.
"Where are we James? The country, what country are we in?" He continued.
Richard came into view now, his eyes focused solely on me, and making me feel
quite nervous. "James, come on. Answer the question, what country are we in?"
"England. London." I answered, taking a deep breath and starting to relax.
"It's Monday, we're in London, England. At my apartment. A guys just been
killed and... And... And you both want answers..."
Sebastian sighed, falling to his knees in front of me. He looked exhausted and
I could see Richard relax aswell. "Oh thank god. You're okay... Fuck... You've
been out for hours." Sebastian mumbled, moving to sit in the chair across from
me. I sat up carefully, my whole body still feeling weak.
"James, please, tell us what's going on." Richard spoke, wrapping an arm around
my shoulders. I shook my head, swallowing hard as I looked around the room.
"The clean up crew came a few hours ago. I've already got people out tracking
the two who came. They won't be alive much longer." Sebastian informed me. I
nodded, a silent thank you before turning to look at my brother.
"Why did I kill my father?"
***** Jim *****
Chapter Summary
     Richard tells him the truth, and Jim spirals into his mind again.
Name: The_Man_With_The_Key
James sat up on the couch, his eyes bloodshot and red. Sebastian sat beside him
with his head in his hands and Richard was in the chair across from them both.
The silence was heavy and each of them were afraid of breaking it. Their eyes
darting between each other, never meeting each other's gaze, until James became
too irritated, leaning forward and slamming his fists against the coffee table.
"Will someone fucking speak?" He demanded, gritting his teeth.
Sebastian looked up, his eyes heavy as he looked at Richard. He had been made
aware of James' past when he and their mother had been in the kitchen the first
time he met her. Richard had then continued to fill in the blanks over the last
couple of days, until in the end he had the whole grizzly past that was James
Brook.
Yet the man sitting before him was James Moriarty. James the man who
interrupted a assassination just because he was bored, who had Sebastian kill a
man at a mafia dons party, who ran half the criminal underworld and held no
emotion. Who threw a fucking vase at him because he lost a game of cluedo!
This was a dangerous man, who had been through a horrifying time and was left
to fend for himself. James Moriarty, the man with the large doe eyes, who acted
like a child simply because he had no childhood.
Sebastian watched as his boss grew more frustrated kicking the table and
sending it across the room, smashing into a million pieces. "James!" Richard
screamed. James turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow and smirked. He had
gotten a reaction. Richard sighed, his eyes closing as he leaned back in the
chair. "You want to know what happened, sit down and be patient."
Sebastian gave him a worried look, his eyes glancing between the brothers as if
asking for permission to leave. James sat down again, placing one leg over the
other and waited. "Sebastian you can-" Richard began to say, but James shook
his head.
"Put these on. If I try and hurt him, hurt me." James instructed, handing over
a pair of earphones. Sebastian nodded, feeling slightly glad that he didn't
have to hear it again. He hadn't heard the worst. They spared him most of the
details, many of which didn't make sense, and he figured only James knew. Yet
here he was, no memory of what happened.
Sebastian popped the headphones in, watching the two men closely. He couldn't
work out what they were saying, he had never been very good at lip reading. He
just had to watch and wait, and pray James didn't attack his twin.
James was unusually calm, his brother watching for any sign of danger as he
began to tell him what happened. Richard spared most of the worst details, the
nights he would come home finding his brother almost dead on the floor, and the
time he took a beating himself. He didn't mention the first incident with the
knife, and he most certainly never mentioned that he had witnessed the first
time his father molested him.
Richard was in floods of tears by the end, his heart breaking a little more
with each word. James sat emotionless, memories had started slotting into
place, and things started to make sense. He understood everything that Theodore
had told him when they met. He figured out why the word 'daddy' struck so much
fear into him. He figured out why there was no memories of his father after the
age of eight, even though he had died much later in his life.
"Once you got out, you hired someone to kill him. Stage it as a suicide and you
fixed it so he would never be caught. You never told me the details, or who you
hired. You never even told me you were gonna do it." Richard stated, his voice
weak as he tried to hold back tears long enough to finish what he was saying.
"We went the pub together that night and we had fun. The next day no one could
find him. It was almost a week later when the police informed us of his death."
James continued to stare at him, taking his time to absorb the information. He
slotted each memory into place, adding books upon books to his shelf, and
clearing away the ones he had knocked over. His mind palace slowly being
repaired, until he finally moved.
Richard and Sebastian both watched closely, their eyes following him around the
room. Each breath they took slow and shaking as they waited for a reaction.
Each of them were silent, the only sound heard being James' footsteps across
the carpet. Shuffling around as he ran a hand through his hair, letting it rest
on the back of his neck as he turned to face them.
Sebastian cautiously removed the headphones, waiting for James to say
something, when he went back to pacing. He shot Richard a look, and he shrugged
in response, both of them on edge. "I have work to do." James finally spoke,
disappearing from sight.
Richard threw himself back in his chair, letting out a sigh of relief. He felt
sick with nerves and could feel his whole body relax as if a large weight has
been removed. "I wasn't expecting that." He spoke up, Sebastian nodded in
agreement, keeping his eyes focused on the door James had disappeared through.
"He's going to need time to process everything," Sebastian mumbled, standing up
and walking towards the kitchen. Richard hummed in reply, his eyes heavy and
tired. "At least it's out of the way." He spoke again, grabbing a bottle of
water from the fridge. "You should get to bed. He's not going to be leaving
that office for a while."
Richard nodded, hesitantly standing and turning to go into James' room. He took
a deep breath, opening the door and taking a quick glance around the room.
There was no trace of blood. No trace that there had been a murder there only
hours before. Richard sighed in relief, not bothering to change his clothes,
and climbed under the sheets, falling asleep the second his head hit the
pillow.
James sat behind his desk. It wasn't as nice as the one in his office, but it
would do for at home. He had his head in his hands, and his elbows rested on a
stack of papers, each with a different report from that week scribbled onto
them. The sight made him nautious. He had started this because he had killed a
child. He had continued it because he killed his father. Now he was in too
deep.
He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes and pleaded for the images to
go away, each one bleeding out of his mind palace and disrupting his thoughts.
Anger bubbling up from each one, as he tried -and failed- to tune it out. He
wanted to scream, to cry, to kill those who had caused this to happen to him.
His mind continued to work at a thousand thoughts a minute, never slowing down
and continuing to think up new ideas. Ways to kill, to destroy, to have fun. He
began to twist things into something darker, removing the emotional factor in
everything and adding in fear. Psychological torture would be more efficient.
He had tried it on Sherrinford and it was very effective, so why shouldn't he
try and do it to others.
He could feel his mind twisting, being warped into something he found he
enjoyed. It was dark and dripping with blood and fear, every inch of it painted
red. Demons lurked round every corner and new games were developing.
He grinned, lifting his head and looking around the room. Something wasn't
right though. It was dark and empty, every where he turned was black. He felt
lonely, his eyes darting around as he tried to find something, anything to tell
him where he was.
A bright light erupted into the room, blinding him and causing him to fall
back. "Help!" He screamed as a figure came into view. He narrowed his eyes,
struggling to see as they walked closer, a cynical smile on their lips being
all he could see.
"You're mine now." They whispered, kneeling in front of him, placing their hand
on his cheek and forcing him to look up at him. "We're going to have so much
fun together!" Theyre voice sang, emphasising different words and dragging out
their vowels. Something about their voice was familiar though. James cautiously
opened his eyes wider, their face coming into view.
"Richard?" He questioned, furrowing his eyebrows. The figure laughed, shaking
their head and gripped his hair, pulling him up with him and smirking.
"Oh James, you won't be needing that." It laughed, pointing to his chest. James
looked down, his chest wide open, and ribs on display. He felt a sharp pain
stabbing through him as the figure punched its way through, wrapping its long
fingers around the beating organ he called a heart, before ripping it out of
him.
James fell backwards, his head hitting the ground hard. His vision blurred,
slowly fading to black when the figure appeared above him. "So much more fun,
without any feelings." It laughed, crushing the still beating organ within its
palm, turning it to dust. James watched in horror, trying to scream but no
noise coming out, when everything began to collapse.
The ground shook, breaking open and dropping him through it, hurdling through
the hole. He reached out, trying to find something, anything to save himself.
When something finally grabbe him, holding him by the wrists and allowing him
to dangle just over the edge of a cliff he hadn't seen before.
He looked around seeing the figure stood in front of him again, the sick smile
on its face turning into a frown at the sight of him, "You're never going to
make it anywhere with that." He laughed, ripping away a part of the mans brain
that had been labelled 'pain'.
James looked him, true fear flooding through him as he saw the figure twisting
into that of his father. "Isn't that better, Jimmy boy?" It laughed, punching
him had in the stomach. James didn't flinch, his body just hanging there limp.
The figure disappeared again, and James was left to fall once again, this time
landing in a pool of water. His whole body going cold as he searched his
surroundings, the figure appearing once again, this time ripping another part
of his brain, this time labeled 'fear'. If crushed it seconds later, allowing
the dust float down into the water below and disappearing.
James sank into the water, struggling to breath as he went deeper and deeper.
He no longer panicked, he no longer cared. He floated below, finally placing
his feet onto the sand below and searching for the figure, his arms crossed
over his chest. "One more thing." The figure spoke, no where in sight, when
James felt it remove another part of his brain.
'Sanity.'
James laughed as it plopped into his hands, the water starting to drain and
disappearing within seconds. His eyes darkened and pupils shrank as he stared
at it. His laugh grew louder and more manic, his shoulders shaking and chest
heaving as ripped the item apart. He watched as each piece he ripped off fell
to the ground, crushing it with his feet. "I don't need that either." He
laughed, his voice now resembling that of the figure.
He walked forward slightly, clicking his fingers and beconing the figure. It
appeared before him, appearing from a twisted shadow, both of them standing toe
to toe with each other, and wearing the same sickening grin on their faces.
"We're going to have so much fun." He whispered, both of them beginning to
laugh.
"Jim Moriarty. The most dangerous man in England."
***** PTSD *****
Chapter Summary
     Seb's PTSD...
Chapter Notes
     Slight trigger warning.
Name: Sebastian Moran
Age: 27
James had finally left his office a few hours later, his eyes heavy. He looked
happier though, something in his eyes. They weren't empty like usual, there was
something new about them, something different. Whatever it was though, only
made them more intriguing.
He wandered into the living room, flopping back on the couch and rubbing his
eyes. "Richard go to bed?" He asked, his voice softer and is accent slightly
more prominant. Not like it had been over the speakers, or when he had just
woken up.
I nodded, turning to face the television again. It was just a random film I had
left on, something about superheroes, crap really. James stood up again,
leaving the room, his body moving smoothly around the apartment as he searched
for something. "Clean this up would you?" He snapped, after a few seconds,
kicking a few pieces of glass.
"It'll be fine until morning." I told him, rolling my eyes. I was too tired for
an argument, never mind cleaning up his mess. James frowned, crossing his arms
over his chest and walking towards me.
"Fucking clean it up!" He screamed, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling
me up. I winced in pain, batting his hand away and stumbled slightly, falling
to my knees on the glass. "I have a job for you tomorrow. I'll also need you to
pick the keys up to the house." He informed me. He was rather scary like this.
Assertive and demanding. Somehow I couldn't help but like it.
James fell back onto the couch, watching as I picked up the larger pieces of
glass, cutting my hands up in the process. He typed away on his phone, glancing
down every so often to check what he had wrote.
I flinched as I felt a sharp pain in my hand, looking down to see a large gash,
blood pouring from it. "Honestly! One fucking job, can't you do anything
right?" James screamed, kicking me hard in the face. I fell to the side,
landing in more of the glass and cutting up my arm.
"James, fucking calm down!" I yelled, moving out of kicking distance and
ripping a piece of my shirt off, wrapping it around my hand. James growled,
moving towards me, his eyes narrowed and full of hatred.
"Don't you dare!" He screamed, hitting me hard across the face, the sound of
skin hitting skin echoing through the room. I glanced to Richard's door,
praying he hadn't woken, or at least didn't come out to see what was happening.
"Don't you dare talk to me like that, Sebastian Moran." He demanded, picking up
a sharp piece of glass.
I swallowed thickly and felt my heart pounding in my throat as I watched him.
"Get on your hands and knees!" I nodded, quickly doing as instructed, breathing
heavily. I could easily fight him off, I could easily disarm him, so why the
fuck was I doing this?
James gave me a sickening smile, his teeth showing and his eyes glistening. It
was the same look he had given Sherrinford. He moved closer, his hand wrapped
tight around the piece of glass as he stared at me. "Shirt off!" He spoke next.
My blood ran cold as I heard those words, thousands of scenarios playing
through my mind as I tried to figure out what he was going to do. My body moved
on autopilot, every command he made being followed instantly. This was a man I
had met only weeks before and now I am doing anything he asks.
James moved closer again, kneeling beside me and placing his lips against my
ear. "You're mine now." He laughed, pressing the cold glass to my back, just
below my neck. He pressed it in further, the skin ripping apart, doing exactly
what he wanted just like the rest of my body.
He smirked, biting down on my shoulder and drawing a little blood, causing me
to flinch and gasp in pain. The glass pushed in more and I could feel blood
trickling down from it. He let go off my shoulder, looking up at the wound he
had created, his eyes glistening with joy.
My whole body seemed to relax a little as he smiled. He enjoyed this. He
enjoyed causing pain, and I sure as hell wasn't going to take that away from
him. I relaxed into the pain, focusing on it completely and zoning out. James
seemed to like this even more. My body shaking and going weak beneath him.
He dragged the blade down slightly, jerking it diagonally and then straight
again. Repeating the process several times. He laughed, licking a small amount
of the blood and closed his eyes. He ripped the blade from my skin, allowing
the blood to flow freely and fell back, his eyes closed and in a state of
complete pleasure.
My arms shook and I could feel my body giving up from the loss of blood, my
eyes never leaving his frail body sprawled out on the ground beside me. The
Crimson liquid dripped from my neck onto the floor, small spots of red
appearing and black dots corrupting my vision. I felt my arms buckle and my
whole body felt it was about to break, the pain becoming unbearable as I
watched the smaller man slowly coming out of his daze.
"James..." I whispered, and fell to the ground, my world going black.
•••
I awoke to the sound of people arguing. Then there was something smashing. Then
a scream. Finally silence. Door slammed. Hands on my forehead. "What..." I
began, but my voice gave up on me, causing a choking fit.
The person beside me stepped back, their hand now on my back. Pain shot through
my whole body as I moved. I gritted my teeth, the burning sensations starting
at my neck and slowing through my whole body. "Sebastian, come on, you're okay.
I need you to take these." The familiar voice spoke. James. No. No he wasn't
that nice. Richard.
I opened my eyes, staring up at him. Richard; definietly. It took a moment for
me to register what was happening, and for my vision to fix itself enough for
me to see the pills in his hand. I took them both, shoving them into my mouth
and swallowing them dry, the horrible power clinging to my throat and causing
another coughing fit.
"Hey, Sebastian, drink this." Richard spoke, pressing a glass to my lips. I
managed to swallow a mouthful, inbetween choking and almost collapsing again.
Richard gave me a sympathetic look, his eyes full of worry as he looked down at
me.
"What happened?" He asked after a few minutes, sitting in front of me and
helping me into a sitting position as well. I sighed, holding my head in my
hands. I still felt lightheaded from the blood loss and was quite surprised I
hadn't bled out and died. Richard seemed to notice this too, placing his hand
on my shoulder.
"James. He went a bit..." I started, but I didn't know how to finish it. He
nodded in understanding, his hand dropping to his side. "What did he do to me?"
I asked finally, reaching back to find someone had bandaged it up.
Richard shook his head, pulling out his phone and tapping a few buttons on the
screen. I took a deep breath, drinking some more of the water, just trying to
focus on staying awake. "He carved his initials into your neck. 'JM'." He
sighed, turning the phone around to reveal a very scared and bloody version of
the letters.
I looked down, putting my head in my hands again. "I take it you bandaged me
up?" I asked. He hummed in reply and shoved his phone back into his pocket.
"Thanks."
Richard placed a hand under my chin, forcing me to look up at him, his brown
eyes staring into my crystal blue ones. "He'll calm down in a few days. It was
a lot to take in." He sighed, looking towards the front door, the sound of keys
in a lock coming from it. "He remembers everything. It's like going through it
all again."
"I know. I just hope he's going to be okay." I admitted, slowly struggling to
my feet. There was still glass covering the floor and my arm was shredded.
Richard ran a hand through his hair, looking around the room when James walked
in. He looked annoyed and I feared my skin as I looked at him.
"There's a job on the fridge for you. Richard we leave in fifteen minutes to
meet Severin." He spoke, walking through the living room, not once looking up
from his phone. I sighed, looking at the younger twin who just shrugged.
"I'm going to get a shower, if he tries to kill you," I started, grabbing a
piece of paper and a pen. "Call me or Sev." I scribbled down my number and
Severin's making a mental note to text him in case. Richard thanked me, and
handed me a bottle of alcohol rub.
James entered the room again, just as annoyed as before, but wearing a
different shirt. His phone now away. "What are you waiting for? You've got a
job to do." He snapped at me, his hands clenched tightly into fists at his
sides.
"I'm getting a shower first, someone kind of shredded my arm!" I snapped back,
rolling my eyes and walking into the bathroom. James was yelling something
about how 'I owe him for getting me into the military' as I locked the door.
The bathroom was cold and soothed the cuts covering my body. I leaned back
against the door, hitting my head against it. What the fuck was I doing? What
the fuck was I thinking deciding to work for... Moriarty?
I groaned, forcing myself to move, switching on the shower and starting to
strip. "You've got three hours to have all six of them dead! Bikes downstairs!"
James yelled through the bathroom door. I furrowed my eyebrows, but shrugged
(painfully) and stepped under the spray of the water.
Everything burned. Pain being the only thing to register in my whole body, the
way it coursed through my veins and shot through each part of my body as it
moved. I ripped off the bandage on my neck, throwing it onto the floor and
runnin my fingers over the initials. JM James Moriarty. James fucking Moriarty.
James Brook.
James Brook, the boy who never was. I thought about everything Richard had told
me, everything their mother had told me. I thought about the way he was abused.
The way his father would hit him, punch him, cut him. I thought about how
scared he had to have been. How he must have cried at night. The way he must
have feared for his life.
I thought about how it evolved. How his father forced him into things. His
thin, frail body being dragged around and pushed. The way he must have cried
and begged. The way he must have felt when he got in the shower after that
first time. The way he must have tried to scream.
I pictured him on his knees, crying. Bent over the bed, screaming. Gripping the
bedsheets, pleading. How he must have woke up during the night from nightmares.
The paranoia every time he heard footsteps.
I could see the look of pain in his eyes as Josh had his way with him. The way
he looked when he heard those knocks on the door. The fear as he saw him turn
up with Sherrinford. I saw the disgust he felt in himself after allowing them
to touch him. The way he must have fought when they dragged him away.
I fell to my knees with a thud. Tears streamed down my face as loud sobs
erupted from my throat. I shook and heaved with each breath and all I wanted to
do was throw up. The pain in my body now replaced with hatred and anger towards
those who had made him this way.
I closed my eyes and all I could see was James, the way he looked at his
brother. The pain and the heartache. The fear and the sorrow. The constant look
that he had disappointed him somehow. The monster that is James Moriarty, it
wouldn't exsist if it weren't thanks to these people. The way they had treated
him.
However if they never treated him that way, I'd have never met him. I'd have
never gotten into the military and I would have... My mother.
A new load of tears washed over me as I knelt there. My mothers face appeared
in my mind, her face filling with fear as I stood there, the gun clinched
between my hands. The pleading eyes and the way she fell, her head falling into
the grass, eyes still open and staring into the sky with a small smile on her
face. She looked peaceful, even with a bullet hole through her head.
Everything stopped as I sat there, my mind racing with all these different
thoughts. I couldn't breath and was struggling for air. I reached out switching
the water off. My heart was pounding and my vision blurred and I could remember
the feeling from the night before. This was different though.
I grabbed a towel, wrapping it around my waist and felt more tears falling from
my eyes. Everything around me began to spin, and I couldn't find a way to stop
it. I fell forward onto the floor, scrambling to move when more thoughts
floated into my mind. Loud explosions echoing in my ears.
The floor felt like it was about to swallow me up, and I felt my stomach
churning. Dead soldiers wormed their way into my thoughts, their screams and
their faces. I couldn't breath, black spots appeared, and eventually I felt my
whole body fall limp to the ground, the cold tiles slapping against my skin.
"Moran!" Someone's voice called. They sounded distant, and everything seems to
echo. "Moran!" They called again. I tried to speak, but no sound escaped, all I
could muster was to knock a few bottles from a shelf.
"Sebastian! Are you okay?" They sounded closer now, but I couldn't make out
where they were. I tried to move and look around, but nothing seemed to
register, a white fog clouding my vision. "Sebastian, listen to me, if you can
hear me you need to find a way to tell me." They spoke.
I lifted my head slightly, nodding. Every last shred of my energy being used up
in that one movement. "Sebastian, you need to breath." I heard them say. I
couldn't focus on breathing though, I needed to find a way to shut the voices
up, block out the memories. "Sebastian please, just breath!"
I cried out as a sharp pain shot through my whole body, shaking and burning.
"Sebastian, please! Just breath!" They yelled. I struggled to my hands and
knees, moving towards the toilet and heaving into it. "Sebastian, please. You
need to calm down." They spoke more soothing now, sitting behind me and pulling
me back, wrapping their arms around my waist.
"Calm down, Sebastian. Calm down." They cooed, pushing my hair out of my face.
"You're okay, you're okay Sebastian." The whispered, continuing to run their
hand through my hair.
I slowly relaxed leaning against them, water sticking their shirt between us
both. "Come back to me, Sebastian. Come back to me." I took several deep
breaths, heart rate slowly returning. "Sebastian Moran. We're at the apartment
in the middle of London. It's Thursday." They repeated it several times, their
voice slowly bringing me back to reality.
"Can you tell me what happened?" They asked once I had calmed enough. I shook
my head, ashamed to admit that I let PTSD get the best of me. They held me
tighter, brushing their hand through my hair one more time. "It's okay. I
understand. Wait here okay, I'm going to get you a blanket and we're gonna get
you to bed."
"Thank you, James..." I whispered, looking up at him. He furrowed his eyebrows
and shook his head, standing up and turning to leave the room.
"I'm Richard, Sebastian." He spoke softly. I watched as he walked away and even
in my dazed state I knew he was lying. I could make out the cold eyes that had
stared at me and the broken soul behind them. His suit was still on, and
although Richard was wearing a suit aswell today, Richard was wearing a white
shirt, not black.
"Sorry..." I mumbled, although he was out of earshot. I wasn't arguing with him
today. My head pounded as I sat there, knees pulled up to my chest, breathing
in and counting to three before breathing out.
"Here. You'll be okay."
'Richard' said wrapping a blanket around me. "Can you walk, Sebastian?" I shook
my head, knowing I couldn't trust my legs to keep me up. 'Richard' sat behind
me again, pulling me close, and allowing me to rest my head on his chest.
"Okay, we'll stay here until you can." He smiled, kicking the door shut and
locking it. "So James doesn't witness this." He assured me. I nodded, gripping
the blanket and pulling it tighter around me, curling into a ball. "Please...
Don't..." I mumbled, before leaning forward and throwing up again. My head was
spinning and I felt like I had swallowed glass.
'Richard'
stayed silent, rubbing my back.
"Was it PTSD, Sebastian?" He asked quietly, as I leaned back again. I didn't
reply, hiding my face within the blanket. "You're going to be okay, Sebastian.
You're gonna be okay. We're gonna get through it."
I nodded, closing my eyes and moving closer to him. This was James. I knew it
was, but this was not Moriarty. "You'll be okay, Sebastian. We're gonna get
through it."
"We're gonna get through it, James..." I whispered, and eventually fell asleep
wrapped up in his arms and blanket.
***** PTSD (Jim) *****
Chapter Summary
     Set whilest Sebastian was knocked out, and continues until after he
     had fallen asleep.
Name: Jim Moriarty
Age: 23
"What the fuck have you done to him, James!" Richard screamed, walking into the
living room. I shrugged, taking a drag from the cigarette between my fingers,
my eyes carefully tracing over Sebastian's limp body. He was lying face down on
the carpet, his neck sliced open with my initials carved into it. Blood pooled
around him, and his skin had gone a sickly pale from how long he had been
bleeding out for.
"He deserved it." I spoke calmly. Richard looked like he was going to be sick,
running off to the bathroom. I took another drag of the cigarette, the smoke
filling my lungs and giving me a small sense of warmth. I stood up, walking
around the couch and grabbing the ashtray from by the window, flicking away the
ash and bringing it back up to my lips.
"You don't smoke?" Richard commented, re-emerging with the first aid kit. I
rolled my eyes, pulling out my phone and quickly sending a text to Spencer,
informing him I was going to be checking in that morning, before informing Bill
he would need to be here in an hour.
"How would you know? I don't normally see you." I snapped, "You'll need to be
ready by twelve. You can borrow one of my suits. Just don't wear the green
tie." I skipped out of the room and left to go outside, making a few phone
calls and tying up loose strings, when Bill pulled up. "Spencer's." I told him
simply, climbing into the back of the car and waiting.
Bill walked around getting into the car himself and starting the engine. "Bad
day, James?" He asked. I glared at him and growled.
"From now it's either 'boss' or 'sir'. You do not talk unless spoken to,
otherwise you'll be removed." I threatened, starting to type out e-mails. He
visibly stiffened, his eyes going wide and his hands gripping the wheel
tighter.
"Sorry, sir." He mumbled, and continued to drive.
Spencer was relativly nervous that day, his body stiff and eyes darting around
the room from the second I arrived. "I'm only here to hear how Sebastian is
going?" I informed him, pursing my lips and narrowing my eyes.
"Yes, sir. He's doing well. He's actually doubled last months sales." Spencer
informed me, handing me the reports I had asked him to have ready. "He's even
working on getting you a deal with the German's for half their stock."
"Well I can see he's doing well. What's the bad news?" I asked, reading over
the reports. Everything was normal, positive. Nothing was owed and nothing was
going missing. Obviously he had some sort of impact over the workers. I'll need
to check up on that.
"He's supposed to have a meeting this afternoon at five. We can't get in touch
with him though." I nodded, rolling my eyes and throwing the papers onto the
table, a loud thud echoing from them. Spencer flinched, stumbling backwards
slightly and knocking into one of the cupboards.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and turned to face him, grabbing him by the
throat and pushing him against the counter. "You're going to get in touch with
him. You're going tell him to get his arse to that meeting. And if you don't I
will make sure you never see that pretty piece of skirt again."
"Y-yes, sir!" He cried out, as I threw him to the side. Spencer was shaking his
whole body trembling as he sat on the floor. Sebastian was a loyal employee. I
knew that. He wasn't too good in the army, but with me he didn't follow too
many rules. He had his own team to organise. There wasn't much authority in it.
Spencer didn't move. He didn't speak. He just stared up in shock and fear. I
laughed, turning away from him and heading back to the car, making my way past
the many smack heads lining the halls, when a familiar raven haired boy caught
my eye.
He sat in the corner, his head falling back and eyes closed. He looked peaceful
but the heavy bags under his eyes and unshaven face said otherwise. A needle
was sticking out of his right arm and I could see faint traces of a white
powder under his nose.
The boy had a very small smile on his face as he mumbled to himself, his skin
shining with sweat and hair sticking to his forehead. Sherlock Holmes.
I walked closer to him, careful not to make a sound, seeing he still had some
gear in the syringe. I kneeled before him, placing my hand on his cheek,
running my thumb over his cheekbones. "You never deserved to live." I laughed,
pressing the plunger down and injecting the liquid into his blood stream. "None
of you did."
•••
Bill was waiting outside, leaning against the car and smoking. "Home. Quickly,
I have other things to do before my meeting this afternoon." I snapped. Bill
nodded, throwing the cigarette to the ground and standing on it, and opened the
door.
I sat down in the back of the car, head leaned back and staring at the ceiling
as I replayed everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours. I
went over every detail Richard had told me, the way I had argued with him that
morning, the dream I had and the way I had treated Spencer. Nothing mattered to
me though. I felt nothing for any of them.
Then my mind turned to Sebastian. The way I had abused him. The way I had left
him there to bleed out. The look in his eyes right before he passed out,
pleading me to stop, to help him. The way he had trusted me and I had destroyed
that trust in seconds. It made me sick to my stomach. I was a monster.
•••
Bill pulled up outside the apartment complex, opening the door for me. "I'll
wait here, sir." He spoke cautiously watching as I walked away.
Richard was still fussing over Sebastian when I walked in, his hands dancing
over the many tools in the first aid kit and trying to stop the bleeding.
"Jesus Christ, James what the fuck did you do to him? He won't stop bleeding!"
He panicked, pressing another cloth to his skin and taking the thread in hand.
"If you fucking kill him I will never forgive you."
"What does he matter? He's just an employee." I asked, crossing my arms over my
chest and sitting on the couch. Richard shot me a glare, threading the needle
and beginning to stitch the blond up. His hands working quickly in an effort to
save him.
Richard turned around throwing the ashtray I had left lying around at me. "What
the fuck was that for?" I screamed, ducking out of the way, ash falling to the
ground and glass shattering. "Twat!" I scoffed, brushing some of the ash from
my suit.
"Get out, James. Or so help me I'll throw you out." He spoke. Richard turned to
tend to Sebastian again, his hands resting on his shoulder as he checked him
over again. Placing a bandage over the stitches.
I sighed, leaving the apartment again, slamming the door behind me and heading
back to the car, my suit jacket a mess. "Open the boot would you?" I snapped,
removing the coat. Small flecks of grey ash covered it, and pieces of glass.
Bill nodded moving around the car and popping the boot open. I kept several
items of clothing in the car, each black since they were only really used when
I was covered in blood. This seemed a good time to change though. "I need to
head to the shop, whatever's closest." I told him, shrugging on the new jacket,
and stuffing the old one in a bag.
"Of course, sir." He sighed, slamming the boot down and opening the door. I
nodded, climbing in. My head was swirling and I could feel myself slowly
spiraling again.
•••
Cigarettes. That's all I was after. Cigarettes. Yet I now had two bottles of
vodka and a bottle of scotch, three packs of cigarettes and an extra bottle of
absinthe. Richard would kill me if he ever found out, he'd tell me about how
father would drink. How when he drank he became worse. I don't get worse
though, I get better. Nicer. Smarter. Wiser. Calm.
The apartment was quiet as I stood outside, the bag of items hidden behind my
back and phone in hand. I looked down, opening a game of candy crush, something
to keep me busy and to stop Richard asking questions.
I opened the door, the two men stood looking around the room awkwardly.
"There's a job on the fridge for you. Richard we leave in fifteen minutes to
meet Severin." I told them, walking across the room. I had lost another game.
I entered my office, stashing the bottles in the bottom drawer of the desk, and
shoving a packet in my pocket for later. I sat down, wrapping my arms around
myself. I had destroyed everything, and I didn't care and that terrified me. My
own fear, being myself. I was a monster and I was going to destroy everything I
came into contact with.
I took a deep breath, grabbing one of the bottles and drinking a few mouthfuls,
spilling some on my shirt. "Fuck..." I cursed, putting the bottle away and
searching for a new shirt. Black. Perfect. Just the colour to hide the blood
from when I try and argue with Richard again.
"What are you waiting for? You've got a job to do." I snapped, clenching my
fists tightly at my sides as I entered the room again, seeing Sebastian still
here.
"I'm getting a shower first, someone kind of shredded my arm!" He snapped back,
walking off to the bathroom. I gritted my teeth, slamming my fist against the
wall, as he locked the door.
"You owe me Sebastian! I got your father out of prison and put you in the
military! I gave you a fucking job an got you clean!" I screamed, as Rochard
hit me over the head, pushing me down on to the couch and gripping me by the
throat.
"Now you listen to me, James Brook. You're going to stop treating people this
way or I'm going to fucking make you." He spoke low, his voice rough and accent
thick. I swallowed thickly and nodded my head, feeling intimidated by my own
brother. "You're going to get over this. I know you're going through something
right now, but what you did to Sebastian is not right!"
"Richard you do not tell me what I can and ca-"
"You will not hurt him, James! That man in there is here to protect you, not to
be beaten by you. You may be a criminal but you don't have to act like one!" He
snapped, gripping my throat tighter and growling. "You're not going to treat
the only two people in the world who care about you. I needed you this week and
you went and tried to get laid the second night I was here. I lost my fucking
mother James and I know you don't care and that's not your fault but you
could've helped, instead you stabbed a guy!"
"You've just told me about how I was raped not only by my father but abused by
him as well! Do you not thin-"
"I'm not finished!" He screamed, pulling me up and slamming me back down again.
"You found that out, yeah. You have a right to be upset and angry, you don't
have a right to treat people like shit though! Sebastian cares about you James!
He might have only known you a few weeks but he cares about you! He's here to
keep you safe, that includes from yourself aswell, so you're going to fucking
treat him as a human! Got it?"
I nodded, and he released his grip, his face close to mine. "Then let's go, I
can't wait to get away from this place." He laughed, moving away and going to
slip his shoes on.
I walked over to the bathroom, fixing my shirt and jacket, "You've got three
hours to have all six of them dead! Bikes downstairs!" I yelled through the
door. Sebastian didn't respond and I wanted to scream at him to give me some
form of a response.
Richard gave me a sympathetic look, opening the front door and heading outside.
I sighed, I needed to fix this. I needed to make things better. "You coming
James?" Rochard called from the end of the corridor. I sighed, making my way
over to the front door. Richard was waiting by the stairs, eyebrow raised.
"I'm gonna just... I want to make sure Sebastian is okay. You go ahead, I'll be
there soon. The code is 0221." I told him. Richard nodded his head and turned
walking down the stairs.
I headed back into the apartment and curled up on the couch. The apartment was
silent, only running water breaking the ery feeling. I wanted to scream and
punch myself, I hadn't been there for Richard, and I had caused Sebastian to
almost bleed to death on the floor.
Shards of glass were covering the carpet and I could the large piece I had used
to cut him. Blood was still smeared over the edge of it, and I felt my stomach
turning at the sight. I had done exactly what he did. I had tried to kill him.
Beat him.
I remembered the time Richard had attacked me with a knife. The fear and pain I
had felt from it. Had that been how Sebastian felt? I felt sick. That was when
I heard a loud bang come from the bathroom.
I jumped up, knocking on the door, but got no answer. The water had been
switched off and I heard another loud bang. This time was worse and I knew
somethin bad had happened. I tried the handle, finding the door was locked and
ran back to the kitchen. There had to be a spare key? There had to be something
to pick the lock! I panicked, throwing things out of the drawers until I found
what I was looking for.
I grabbed my phone texting Richard: 'Somethings came up, if you don't like him
I'll find someone else. - Jim Moriarty x.'
I threw the phone onto the couch and ran back to the bathroom, struggling with
the lock for a few moments before finally getting it open. "Moran!" I yelled,
seeing him on the floor. He looked panicked, his eyes wide as he struggled to
breath, "Moran!" I tried again. He moved slowly, knocking some bottles to the
floor.
I knelt beside him placing my hand on his shoulder carefully, as he started to
shake. "Sebastian! Are you okay?" I asked. His head moved around slightly, as
if he was searching for something, his eyes roaming over the room. "Sebastian,
listen to me, if you can hear me you need to find a way to tell me."
I watched as he slowly lifted his head, his breaths sparse as he tried to grip
the floor. Eventually he managed to nod his head slightly, before it fell back
to the ground. I placed my hand underneath it before it made contact with the
floor. "Sebastian you need to breath." I tried, rolling him over slightly, so I
could see his face.
He didn't seem to be calming down, his whole body shaking. "Sebastian please,
you need to calm down." I spoke calmly, as he struggled to make his way to the
toilet, throwing up. I sat behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He
leaned back into my chest, the water covering his skin soaking through my
shirt. "Calm down, Sebastian. Calm down." I cooed running my hand through his
hair.
"You're okay, you're okay Sebastian." I whispered. He looked vulnerable,
crouched into a ball, tears falling from his face. He looked so child like, his
usual tough exterior being stripped away. His breathing became erratic again
and I could see the panic return to his eyes as he gripped my arm, his heart
rate speeding up. "Come back to me, Sebastian. Come back to me."
He focused on his breathing, his heart slowing as I spoke. "Sebastian Moran.
We're at the apartment in the middle of London. It's Thursday. Sebastian Moran.
We're at the apartment in the middle of London. It's Thursday." I repeated,
still stroking his hair. Sebastian relaxed, leaning into my chest and closing
his eyes and breathing heavily as he lay in my arms. "Can you tell me what
happened?"
Sebastian panicked, shaking his head. He looked embarrassed as his breathing
sped up slightly again. I tightened my grip around his waist, "It's okay. I
understand. Wait here okay, I'm going to get you a blanket and we're gonna get
you to bed." I told him, moving away slightly.
"Thank you, James..." He whispered, looking up at me. I froze slightly, not
knowing what to say, before panicking.
"I'm Richard, Sebastian." I told him, standing up and turning to leave. I
waited for a moment, just watching him before forcing myself to leave. I prayed
he couldn't tell I was lying, I prayed he wouldn't remember this. It broke my
heart seeing him like that though. The exact same way Richard had to witness
me.
I shuffled my way through the apartment, entering Sebastian's bedroom and
grabbing the extra blanket he kept on his bed. "Here. You'll be okay." I
whispered as I returned to the bathroom, wrapping the blanket around his
shoulders. "Can you walk, Sebastian?" I asked. He shook his head, looking away
as he answered.
I sighed, and sat behind him again, wrapping my arms around him and allowing
him to rest his head on my chest. "Okay, we'll stay here until you can." I
assured him. Sebastian nodded and gripped the blanket wrapping it tighter. I
kicked the door closed, hoping to secure my alibi of being Richard, leaning up
to lock it. "So James doesn't witness this." I mumbled. He curled up further,
as another tear fell down his cheek.
We stayed like that for a few minutes until he leaned forward again, throwing
up. "Please... Don't..." He spoke as I went to move. I nodded, rubbing his back
and staying silent.
"Was it PTSD, Sebastian?" I asked quietly, as he leaned back again. He didn't
reply and hid his face in the blanket. "You're going to be okay, Sebastian.
You're gonna be okay. We're gonna get through it." I whispered, holding him
closer to me.
Sebastian buried his face in my chest, "You'll be okay, Sebastian. We're gonna
get through it." I ran my hand through his hair again as his breathing calmed
even more, his whole body relaxing against mine.
"We're gonna get through it, James..." he whispered, falling asleep wrapped up
in my arms and the blanket. I sighed, as I held him, watching him sleep and
continueing to stroke my hand through his hair. There was no fooling Sebastian,
even in his state of panic.
He looked peaceful, and I felt my heart skip a beat as a small smile appeared
on his lips. Richard was right, I shouldn't have treated him the way I had.
Maybe we could have avoided this whole situation. He really was beautiful
though, wrapped up with his head against my chest. His hair a mess and face
slightly red, the vulnerability and the trust he had in me, even after I had...
We had known each other a few weeks, we had been living together for a few
days. We hadn't even had a proper conversation with each other, yet here I was.
Slowly, but surly, falling in love with an employee.
He wasn't gay though. He seemed to hate anyone who was, given the conversation
we had when he found out... I was in love. With an employee. A straight
employee.
This was gonna hurt.
***** Drunk *****
Chapter Summary
     James and Sebastian are getting a lot closer.
Chapter Notes
     We're almost at the end! I'm going to write a sequel, mostly because
     I don't want to have this being six thousand chapters long! So I will
     be ending it soon :(
     Don't forget to comment!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Name: James Moriarty
Age: 23
Sebastian slept for an hour before he began to stir, mumbling something about
his mother. I sighed, holding him slightly closer to me, pressing a kiss to his
forehead. "Sebastian?" I whispered, shaking him slightly. His eyelids fluttered
open and his icy blue eyes stared up at me, glistening in the dull light of the
bathroom.
"How... How long was I out?" He asked, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks.
I shrugged, "About an hour." His cheeks grew darker as I spoke, and I decided
it was best to just stay quiet. Sebastian looked around the room, furrowing his
eyebrows. "Do you remember what happened?" I asked, trying to figure out what
was on his mind. He shook his head, narrowing his eyes as he saw the mess of
bottles lying on the ground.
"Your PTSD... It got the best of you, I suppose." He curled into himself,
hiding his face, and shutting his eyes tight. "Hey you're okay, Sebastian.
You're okay, I understand." I whispered, rubbing his back.
Sebastian slowly looked up at me, as the previous events slowly started to make
their way back to him. "So are you... Are you still pretending to be Richard?"
He asked quietly. I laughed, rolling my eyes and poking his nose.
"Really, that's the bit you remember?" I joked. Sebastian shrugged, giving a
small smile and looking back down again, "No." I admitted, before furrowing my
eyebrows. How did you know I wasn't Richard?" I asked, tilting my head to the
side.
Sebastian shrugged again, "There's a lot of differences between you both." He
smirked. I raised an eyebrow, not understanding what he meant when my phone
began to ring, the sound of Johann Sebastian Bach filling the silence that had
fallen between us.
"I'll be back in a moment okay? I'll bring you some clean clothes as well, and
then I'll bandage up your..." I trailed off. Sebastian nodded, blushing again
as he realised he was only wrapped in a blanket, pulling it tighter around
himself.
I moved back, struggling to my feet and finding that one of them had fallen
asleep. Sebastian laughed as I struggled to walk into the living room, glancing
back to glare at him, before finding my phone on the couch. "Hello?" I spoke,
as I hit the answer button, heading towards Sebastian's room. His clothes were
strewn across the floor and I could see he didn't have many personal items,
even after he had gone shopping.
"Hey, James. It's Severin, your brother asked me to call you?" I hummed in
reply, barely paying attention to the phone as I tried to make my way through
the mess of shirts.
"Severin! Great! First of all, how did the meeting with Richard go?" I asked as
my mind caught up with the conversation, rummaging through a bag of Sebastian's
things and finding a pair of boxers and some pyjama pants.
"Good, yeah. We're gonna sort something out that's best for him, if that's okay
with you?" He informed me. I hummed in reply, walking back to the bathroom,
clothes in hand. "We're going to meet later, he asked me to inform you he won't
be home tonight, and said something about Sebastian not picking up some keys?
There was a phone call while we were at the office; he answered it."
"Oh no, that's fine, I actually wanted to ask you about that. Do you have any
free time, preferably today?" I wondered, finding Sebastian still sat on the
floor. He looked up at me, looking rather confused, before taking the clothes
from me, mouthing a quick thank you.
"I've got about two hours before I meet Richard," he answered, the sound of
traffic suddenly audible. So he had only just left the office. I closed the
door to the bathroom, going to sit on the couch and scanned through my own
plans for the day. I'd have to make a few phone calls but I could free up the
next couple of hours.
"Great! I'll meet you at the small cafe round the corner from the office, in
twenty minutes." I spoke quickly, as I heard Sebastian moving about in the
bathroom and didn't want him to find out about this meeting. Or at least not
that it was about him. I hung up as Sebastian appeared, now half dressed, with
the blanket still wrapped around him. "I've got to meet someone in a few
minutes, so I'll bandage you up and then I'll be back in a couple hours,
alright?"
"Why are you being so nice now?" He asked, his voice slightly rougher than it
had been before. I shrugged, looking back at my phone at the many missed calls
from different employees. There was something wrong, they knew never to phone
unless something was wrong and therefore I had a lot of work to catch up with.
"Sit down, I don't have long." I snapped, as he crossed the room. He sat down
beside me, removing the blanket from his shoulders, as I retrieved the first
aid kit Richard had left on the floor. "I do apologise for... It was uncalled
for." I spoke without emotion, quickly checking the wound was clean and
tightening his stitches before replacing the bandage.
Sebastian didn't say anything, he looked tired and was still very pale. "I
won't be long. I'm just going to meet your brother and set up a schedule with
him and Richard." I told him. Sebastian nodded, pulling the blanket around him
again and turned his attention to the glass still covering the floor. "I'll...
I'll send someone to clean it up, you just let them in okay?"
"Sure. Whatever." He mumbled. The atmosphere was thick. I sighed, and quickly
went to change my shirt, and running out of the apartment. I was already five
minutes late.
•••
Severin was sat in the corner, his phone in his hands as he typed away. He
looked a lot like his brother; and not just because they were twins. The way he
kept his hair slicked back out of his face and wore shirts that were slightly
too big, jeans tightly fitting and his lips curled up into the same smile
Sebastian usually wore.
His eyes were just as blue, but there was nothing special about them like
Sebastian's. There was no pain, no secrets, but there were horrors. Nightmares
hidden away and never mentioned. It was the same with Richard. The way they
looked so happy and full of life, but when you looked closer you could see the
pain, the war that raged behind them.
"Good afternoon, boss." He spoke when he saw me, standing up and extending a
hand to shake. I shook my head, waving my hand in dismissal.
"I'm not here on buisness, Moran." I told him, taking the seat oposite him.
Severin nodded, sitting down again and shoving his phone into his pocket. "I
need to ask you about your brother." I told him simply, jumping straight to the
reason I was there.
"What's up?" He asked, giving a small smile. Severin was obviously proud of his
brother, which meant he didn't know about his mother. No one would be so kind
and caring of the person who killed their mother. Unless their mother was a
terrible person, which wasn't likely from the way Sebastian spoke. So he had
been telling the truth, or there's more to Severin than I first thought?
I thought for a moment, trying to figure out how to ask him in a way that
didn't make it sound like I cared, before finally giving up. Emotion wasn't
something that I could be seen showing. It was a weakness. "Your brother
suffers from PTSD, and I can tell he doesn't like to admit it." I began.
Severin seemed to look a little worried, his eyes changing to show something of
recognition.
"Yes. He's suffered from it for a while, but his... his pride get's in the way.
Any reason you're asking?" He sighed and raised an eyebrow, almost sceptical of
my intentions. Probably thought I'd fire him.
"The reason I couldn't make our little meeting, is the fact I found your
brother on the floor of the bathroom, having a panic attack and barely able to
move." I informed him, trying to remain as emotionless as possible as I spoke.
I couldn't understand why it was such a struggle to keep my composure, he was
an employee, and I needed to know these things to avoid them affecting my work.
Why was it so hard? Why did I care? I hadn't cared for anyone, or anything for
years and here I was, struggling to talk about a man I met barely a month ago.
A man who I had spoken to meerly a handful of times, even though I lived with
him!
Severin sighed, placing his head in hands and resting his elbows on the table.
"Is he okay? You haven't left him alone have you?" He panicked, slowly looking
up at me.
I shook my head, crossing my arms in front of me. "He's fine, I managed to calm
him down and there's someone at the flat with him. I just need to know how bad
this is. We're going to be living together and working together, and I know he
won't talk about it." I rambled, finally stopping myself.
"It's not really my place to say, but I suppose I can make an exception, just
this once." He shrugged, "Sebastian over thinks when he's left alone, and
especially when he's in the shower, as I'm guessing you've already figured out.
He won't speak with anyone about it, simply because he's too proud.
"He won't talk to me about it, claiming that 'I've witnessed enough of his bad
memories, I don't need to witness more'. He won't even tell me what he has it
from.
"Our father was a drunk, he'd beat us and my mother, but Sebastian always
seemed to get it worse. He never seemed to suffer from it then. He seemed fine.
That's how Sebastian is though, he's always trying to be strong and he'll never
ask for help, or admit he needs it. He'll never reject it though, unless you
mention the PTSD."
I nodded and stayed silent, continuing to listen as Severin spoke, and things
slowly slotted into place. "Then when he went away on his first tour, things
were different. Our mother had just been killed by my father, and I was away at
university when I got the call. He'd had a breakdown in the middle of training.
He was okay, and he was still fit to fight but I needed to sign all these
consent forms.
"They wanted to make sure that if he had a breakdown in the battlefield, I
wouldn't sue them. It was his decision and I wasn't about to force him to come
home, after all that's what he was trying to get away from.
"Things got worse over the years though, and eventually he broke completely. He
tried to kill a member of his team. Dr. John Watson, he was their captain and
Seb was the Colonel. Watson had apparently been a good friend of Sebastian's so
I don't know why he snappened, he doesn't speak about it."
I stayed silent for a moment, processing the information and allowing it to
slot into place, each piece filling in another blank. "Thank you, Severin. I
won't mention any of this to him. I told him we were meeting to set up a
schedual for you and Richard and I'd appreciate if you informed Richard of this
meeting. In case he asks."
"Of course. I'll be sure to inform you of the timetable we come up with." He
smiled. We said our goodbyes and I began to make my way out of the coffee shop
when a familiar face caught my eye. Martha Turner, or Martha Hudson as she was
now known. I had kept in touch not long after starting the empire, even going
to her wedding, but over time we drifted apart.
It was a shame really, her husband was one of my best employees, but he decided
to branch out. I had let him of course, not one of my better ideas, but I
respected Martha so I had to let her go.
I walked past her, not daring to say anything, and left the cafe. She was still
just as beautiful, her hair tied back perfectly and a smile on her face as she
spoke with the customers. She had cleaned herself up in the years gone by, and
I could see she was a lot healthier and happier for doing so.
I sighed as I stepped out into the cold, thirty eight more texts and missed
calls. I pinched the bridge of my nose and scrolled through them, this wasn't
something I could ignore until tomorrow. Rosamund Mary had escaped, and she was
on the run. I needed to make arrangements.
•••
Sebastian was still sat on the couch when I got home, the blanket still pulled
tightly around him, and the whole room plunged into darkness. The table had
been cleaned up and removed, along with the blood that had previously covered
the carpet.
The blond didn't look up as I entered, his eyes focused on the window in front
of him, staring out at the night sky, stars reflecting perfectly as they
appeared in the sky. "Are you doing okay?" I asked, removing my jacket and
shoes, before making my way into the kitchen. I didn't switch any of the lights
on, not wanting to disturb him too much.
Sebastian stayed silent, his expression stone cold and never faltering. I
grabbed a couple glasses, walking back into the living room and placing them on
the window ledge. "Your brother's accepted the job. He seems eager to start."
The air was still tense, but I couldn't stop the need to talk to him, to get
some sort of reaction from him.
I walked off into my office, grabbing the bottles I had stored there earlier,
and bringing them back into the room with me. "What do you drink? Vodka?
Scotch?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and pouring myself two fingers of the
brown liquid. Sebastian still didn't say anything just continued to stare out
the window. "I think I've got a couple beers in the fridge if you want them? Or
water?"
Sebastian still didn't speak, and I could feel my heart sink as I threw back
the drink, the alcohol burning the back of my throat. He finally turned to look
at me as I poured a second, raising an eyebrow and shifting slightly.
"Your brother said I shouldn't let you drink." He spoke calmly. I shrugged,
grabbing the bottle of absynth and throwing back the scotch, disregarding the
glass now and plopping myself down beside him.
"What he doesn't know can't hurt him." I laughed, popping off the lid and
taking a quick mouthful. "Want some?" I asked, holding the bottle out to him.
Sebastian gave me a wary look, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took the
bottle from me, pressing it against his lips.
"What's the occasion?" He laughed, handing it back to me.
"Nothing, I just want to drink." I shrugged, "I'm gonna get changed, don't
drink it all. That's expensive shit." I called as I head to my room, leaving
the bottle on the couch.
"What is it?"
"Absinth!"
•••
(We're gonna swap to third person here, just because it's easier to continue
this chapter, please excuse this note!)
•••
Sebastian was lay on the ground, his head resting on his arm as he stared at
the ceiling. James was lay next to him, the now empty bottle of vodka in hand
as he looked around for the bottle of absinth Sebastian had hidden ten minutes
prior. Which he had forgotten the location of.
"Seb! Where d'ya put it!" He whined, rolling onto his stomach and looking down
at the sniper. Sebastian shrugged, laughing at the Irish man as he struggled to
get to his feet, reaching out for a coffee table that was no longer there.
"Seb! Where'd the table go!" He asked, both shocked and confused as he reached
his hand into the darkness again.
"You broke it!" Sebastian chuckled, rolling over and standing up himself,
holding his hand out for James to take. "I don't know where I put the bottle
either... It's possibly under the couch." He laughed, waving it around in his
right hand, absentmindedly.
James fell back, barely able to breath as he started to laugh, his eyes
watering. "It's in your hand moron!" He choked out, falling into another fit of
laughter. Seb looked down with wide eyes, seeing the bottle clutched within his
palm and started laughing himself, handing it to James.
"You're supposed to be the smart one!" Seb argued, stealing the bottle of
scotch and drinking half of it within seconds. "What time is it?" He asked, his
voice sounding much smoother and posher than when he was sober, only causing
James to laugh even more.
"Two o'clock your heiness." He giggled, chugging another mouthful of the clear
liquid. Seb nodded, siting down beside him and poking his side.
"At least I don't sound like a leprechaun." He teased. James stopped laughing,
sitting up and narrowing his eyes. Sebastian smiled, pulling James close to
him, and stealing the bottle back, pressing it against his lips once again, and
noticing how James' eyes followed. "Gonna just continue to stare?" He asked,
drinking another mouthful as James licked his lips, moving onto the blonds lap.
"I've only known you a month!" He joked, "Don't you think we're moving too
fast?" James put on his best puppy dog eyes, softening his voice and snaking
his arms around the colonel's neck.
Sebastian burst into a fit of laughter, which only caused James to do the same,
until they were both unable to breath. "You've brought a whore back here with
you nearly every night this week, don't play innocent with me." Sebastian
laughed, as James leaned close to him.
"And you haven't brought anyone back. I bet your desperate to get someone in
that bed of yours." James whispered, his voice low and accent thick. If
Sebastian didn't know how drunk he was, he could have sworn James was flirting
with him, but they were both drunk and Sebastian was straight. He was allowed
to think a man was attractive and still be straight afterall... wasn't he?
James laughed again, his lips curling into a smile, "You don't need to look so
scared, Sebastian." He panted, hunched over and holding his stomach.
Sebastian rolled his eyes, rocking forward onto his knees, and pinning James to
the floor, his hands above his head. "You're so bad at flirting, boss." He
growled, confused to what he was saying.
"I am not!" James argued, struggling slightly, but obviously not putting any
effort into it. "If I was, you wouldn't have me pinned to the floor right now."
Sebastian shook his head and leaned down, resting his forehead against James'
and smirking.
"You're only there because you're drunk and if you carry on, you won't like
where you wake up." James' smile only grew, his eyes showing determination as
he looked up at Sebastian.
"What do you think I was trying to do?"
"Do you usually try to sleep with your employees, boss?" Sebastian joked, as
James leaned up, his lips just narrowly missing Sebastian's.
"Only the good ones." He smirked, quickly jerking his hands down and getting
them free, only to wrap them around Sebastian's neck again. "So what do you
say?" He asked, leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to Sebastian's lips. "Your
bed or mine?"
Sebastian almost laughed, as James slurred his words. "Your's." He whispered,
but James shook his head, pointing to Sebastian's instead. "Why?"
"Mine's clean." He laughed, placing his hands on the sniper's shoulders, and
rolling them over, straddling his waist. "Coming?"
James stumbled to his feet, almost falling as he walked towards the room.
Sebastian watched him, the way he swayed his hips and made a point of making
sure Sebastian was watching, with a few quick glances back at him.
Sebastian eventually got to his feet as well, following the younger man. He
moved towards him, steadying himself on the wall as he took each step. "James!"
He laughed, as he got to the door, the consulting criminal now on the floor as
he burst into another fit of laughter.
"You know..." Sebastian started, before he himself tripped and fell to the
ground, a pile of clothes breaking his fall. James laughed harder, crawling
across the floor to the colonel.
"You're usually very careful, Sebastian!" He laughed, running his hand down the
mans back and digging his nails in slightly. "Like a tiger. Silent and
skillful. You're awful when your drunk."
Sebastian rolled over, reaching out and grabbing the smaller man's hips, "And
you're usually a lot meaner, guess we're both very different when drunk."
Sebastian laughed. James shook his head and leaned down, moving to straddle
Sebastian's hips once again, pressing their lips together.
"And you're usually straight." He whispered. Sebastian shrugged, rolling them
over again, pinning James to the ground. James smiled, their lips colliding
again, biting his bottom lip and wrapping his legs around his waist.
Sebastian slowly picked him up, carrying him to the bed, careful not to drop
him or fall. Their lips still moving together, and James running his hands
through the sandy blond hair, tugging at it every so often.
Sebastian threw him down, crawling on top of him. "Are you straight?" James
asked, as Sebastian began to remove his shirt, slowly uncovering the pale and
scarred body of James Brook.
"I don't think I am..." He laughed, kissing his way up James' stomach and
chest, pulling his shirt off and connecting their lips.
"This isn't your first time with a guy is it?" James laughed, as Sebastian
continued to kiss down his chest, unbuttoning his pants.
"No, it isn't." He admitted, looking up at the man, his eyes wide. "I was in an
all male task force..." James laughed and threw his head back on to the bed.
"I was hoping you had fucked your way to the top." He laughed, pulling
Sebastian back up to meet his lips. "It would have made for a better story."
"Well I had you take care of that, didn't I Smith?" Sebastian grinned. James
rolled his eyes and laughed, as he rolled them over again, each of them no
longer thinking about sex, but just having fun and laughing. "Was that really
the best name you could think of?" He asked, as James hit him in the chest with
his knee.
"I was still starting out, and I didn't intend for things to go they way they
have." He shrugged, "It was actually your uncles idea to use a Latin name."
Sebastian gave a small smile and wrapped his arms around James' waist, holding
him close.
"Well Moriarty does seem a lot more... believable and not completely childish."
He teased, pushing the smaller man off of him.
"To die was an art." He smiled, spreading his arms out over the bed and closing
his eyes. "James Brook died and Moriarty was born. To die was an art." He
sighed, moving to sit up when his hand brushed something sticking out from
under Sebastian's pillow...
Chapter End Notes
     Yes Jim is still rather nice and fighting with himself, I'm basing
     him off another fan fiction in a way, I can't remember the name of
     it? But basically Jim has a slow decent into madness after being
     friends/lovers with Sebastian for years. Trust me, it'll make sense
     in the sequel.
***** Notes *****
Chapter Summary
     What did Seb keep under his pillow?
Chapter Notes
     Trigger warning for this chapter; Suicidal thoughts.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Name: Sebastian Moran
Age: 27
I felt sick, the way James' body froze, the way his eyes glossed over as he
scanned over the piece of paper. The sound of paper rustling as he pulled it
from under the pillow. He knew exactly what it was. What else would anyone keep
under their pillow?
"Why?" He whispered, never looking at me, nor the paper in his hand. He sat up,
suddenly sober. That's what a shock can do to you though. You sober up
instantly. The worse the shock the more sober you become, and therefore he knew
exactly what it was and what it said.
I looked down, crossing my legs and wrapping my arms around myself. The note
had been written for months. I left the army and wrote it that night. I wanted
to do it, I had a plan and I was about to go through with it, when my first
client found me. He gave me a job. Said he'd been watching me, saw me as I took
out the three men who had tried to kill me earlier that evening.
I didn't hesitate. I enjoyed being a sniper. I enjoyed lying in wait, stalking
my prey and waiting for the exact moment to strike, just like a tiger. It had
kept me busy, but the idea was always there, nagging me. Constantly in the back
of my mind, just waiting for the perfect moment. It was just another job. The
most important job, and I had to get the timing just right. I had to be
patient. Just like a tiger.
"Dear whoever..." James read aloud, his voice quiet and soft. I closed my eyes,
I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want my own thoughts read back to me. I
could bare to hear my own struggles, my problems the things that were ruining
my life. I wanted to scream at him, strangle him. This was James Moriarty
though, and from what I had seen over the last few days, he wasn't as weak as
he looked.
"I can't do this. I can't live a normal life, not after what I've done. What
I've seen." James continued. I sighed reaching out and trying to retrieve the
note from him, but he pulled it out of my reach. "I never wanted things to be
this bad. I thought after my father things could only get better. Then I killed
my mother. Things will never get better after that. She begged me to though, I
did it for her. Shouldn't that make things easier? Shouldn't I be able to move
past this?"
I felt my stomach churning as he read it. I didn't want to think about it. I
stuffed it under my pillow to forget about it. To keep it close and remind
myself of what I had to do, but to ignore the feelings; the thoughts that I
had. The guilt and the depression. To help me repress those feelings and do my
job.
"I've never felt so alone. I'm sat in the dark of an abandoned house, not a
penny to my name and high on god knows what. I'm hoping it will kill me by the
time I finish writing this. Maybe before if I'm lucky." James looked up at me
for the first time since finding the piece of paper, his eyes were empty,
emotionless like usual. His mask was faltering though. I could see the slight
look of recognition, the same look I had when I was writing the note. The look
of wanting to give up.
He took a deep breath glancing down at the paper again, his eyes scanning it.
"I always wanted things to be easy, even though I knew they weren't. I went to
a good school, my family were rather well off, and I had nothing to complain
about. Nothing but the abusive father. Of course no one knew about that. No one
does know. Only Severin and I. Mother knew but... After taking a bullet to the
head I'd be amazed if she knew anything anymore, of course she's six feet under
now, so even if she did know..."
James trailed off, he looked up at me again, this time the mask completely
gone, his eyes glossed over. "Do you really want to be..." He wondered, before
shaking his head. He placed the piece of paper down on the bed and moved closer
to me, cupping my face in his hands. "Sebastian Moran, I want you to tell me
the truth. Promise me you will tell me the truth."
I stayed silent, staring into his eyes and seeing my reflection in them. I
looked awful. Hair a mess and skin pale. "I promise," I sighed. He was the
boss. I never disobeyed the boss. I was bad with authority but I knew when I
needed to follow orders and I knew when orders could be ignored. This was not
one of those times.
"Do you still want to kill yourself?" He asked, his mask on again as he
narrowed his eyes, demanding an answer, but there was something more. There was
something hidden. Almost as if he was pleading for the answer to be no, but he
knew better than that. Moriarty didn't even need to hear the answer, he could
tell. The second he saw me he probably knew, he was like that. He could read
people, and he was never wrong.
I swallowed my pride, closing my eyes and nodding. James hummed in reply, his
hands still on my face. "Sebastian I need to ask you something, and you can not
get angry with me." He spoke calmly, but I could hear the worry in his voice. I
nodded again, opening my eyes to look at him and seeing the sympathetic
expression on his face. "When I saw Severin today. I asked him about your-" I
cut him off shaking my head and moving away from him.
"Sebastian, you need to get help." He spoke simply, moving back slightly. I
shook my head again, turning to look away from him. "You don't need to see a
therapist. I will help you, Sebastian. We can work together." James' voice was
soft and I could hear the sincerity in his voice.
"I don't need help." I told him simply. James sighed, and cautiously moved
forward. "I'm fine. It won't get in the way of my job and it won't get in the
way of my personal life, and it definitely won't affect you." I spoke firmly,
hoping he would drop the subject. Only moments ago we were laughing and
smiling, now we were miserable and I was wondering if I was quick enough to
grab the gun I kept in the closet, blow my brains out.
"Sebastian I don't care. I want to help you and I want to make sure you're not
going have another episode. You had a job to do today, Sebastian. You said it
wouldn't effect your work, but it already has." He pleaded. I sighed, resting
my head in my hands. I wanted to snap his neck, I wanted to pull his eyes out
and feed them to him. Fuck I wanted to be back with my father, I wanted to
watch as I shot my mother again, anything to get me out of this conversation.
"Please, Sebastian. I can help you. I know just what to do, I know exactly what
you need to forget what you did. I just need you to agree." He pleaded, resting
his hands on my shoulders and slowly moving them down my chest. "I can make
sure you'll forget everything that you did to your mother. I can rewrite the
whole memory so it lined up perfectly with what you told Severin. I can make it
so you never have to think about it again."
I sighed, shaking my head. "I deserve it, James. I deserve to live with this, I
fucking shot my mother in the head!" I screamed, getting off the couch and
starting to pace the room. My head was spinning and I could the alcohol still
in my system, but I was able to think at least. Co-ordination was not something
I was comfortable with loosing. I relied on my co-ordination, it was the only
thing protecting me and now I was a bodyguard. I needed it.
"Sebastian you do not deserve this. She told you to do it. She died quickly,
from what I can tell. She wouldn't have felt any pain, she wouldn't have even
been scared. You did her a favour Sebastian." He tried to convince me things
weren't as bad as they were, and compared to what James went through, it
wasn't.
I knew that a therapist would tell me not to compare situations. Never compare
situations, just because someone went through something you thought was worse,
doesn't mean what you went through was any easier. It didn't mean that my
emotions were uncalled for, we all react to things differently and we all have
a different amount of tolerence.
I knew this. Yet I couldn't help but think taking help from a man who needed it
more than I did, would be rude. It was horrible to think that I was taking help
from such a broken man, a man who was suffering. I was unloading my problems
onto a man who was just like me. Too proud to admit that he was struggling. Too
proud to tell anyone he needed help. For God's sake the man had forgetten all
about it, repressed it that much that now it was eating away at him, he had
lashed out and hurt those who had tried to help.
James Moriarty.
"I know someone who can help you, Sherlock. Someone who can rewrite your whole
being." His voice was still soft and I could feel myself beginning to break,
the first tear falling from my eye. James reached out, taking my hand in his
and pulling me back to the bed, standing in front of him, his doe eyes staring
up at me. "I can make you feel better, Sebastian. Please. Just let me try."
I looked down at the man, he cared. He really did care and it wasn't just
because he was drunk, although that was a factor. This was my friend. My boss,
and my friend. I suppose I could call him that, right? Whatever he was, I
didn't care. I just knew that to some degree the man without emotion, the man
who didn't even care that his own mother had perished in a plane crash, cared
about my well being.
"Okay." I agreed. James grinned, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling
me close. "But on one condition." I added. James moved back, awaiting what I
had to say. "You never remind me of what happened, you make sure I never
remember and you make sure that no one ever finds out it was me. I know you can
do all of that. I've witnessed what you can do. So promise me you will."
"I promise. I'll never mention it. No one will ever know. You just tell me
everything you told Severin, everyone who knows what happened, or who could
have witnessed what happened. I'll sort everything out." He nodded, moving back
and pulling me down onto the bed. "Now come on, it's late. We've both had a
busy day, and drinking probably didn't help."
I nodded, finally realising how tired I actually was. "You staying with me?" I
asked, rubbing the back of my neck. James nodded, pulling back the duvet and
curling up underneath it. "Good night, James."
"It's Jim, Sebastian. When we're not in a meeting or working, it's Jim." He
smiled, as I climbed under the covers with him. James gave a small smile, as he
moved closer resting his head on my chest. "I'll pick the keys up to the house
tomorrow. I need you to take care of something for me."
"Of course, get some sleep." I sighed, wrapping an arm around his waist. Jim
tensed for a moment before relaxing in my arms, his eyes falling closed.
"You're not getting that note back, Sebastian. I'll arrange everything so we
can get it done by Sunday. If you have another... Episode, I will need to be
informed straight away. You have my number. If you feel yourself about to panic
send me a text simply with the letter 'o' and I'll understand. I'll then remove
you from the situation." He explained, "we'll go over it all tomorrow though.
Good night, Sebastian."
Jim curled up closer, wrapping his legs around mine. "Good night, Jim." I
whispered to him as his breathing began to slow, and I could feel his heart
beat steady. He looked peaceful, the most relaxed I had seen him since we had
met. He actually looked rather adorable, and reminded me somewhat of a kitten.
The way his body curled in on it's self and he purred softly in his sleep as I
ran my hand down his back.
I stayed that way for an hour or so, just watching him as he slept, until I
myself eventually slipped into the darkness.
Chapter End Notes
     Gif of Jim as he's reading he note;
     http://imagesmtv-a.akamaihd.net/uri/mgid:file:http:shared:mtv.com/
     news/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/tumblr_m31bhciRkT1rnmhpu-
     1417704237.gif?quality=.8&height=265&width=495
***** Mornings *****
Chapter Summary
     Jim is fighting with his feelings for the sniper and Sebastian has a
     job to do.
Chapter Notes
     One more chapter guys. There will be a sequal! I've actually already
     began to plot it!
Name: Jim Moriarty
Age: 23
"Sebastian..." I mumbled, clinging to the taller man as he tried to get out of
the bed. His sheets were thin and barely retained any heat, and therefore he
was the main source of the warmth within the bed, and also I was rather
comfortable using him as a pillow.
Sebastian stopped moving, resting a hand on the top of my back. "Jim, I'm
perfectly fine with you sleeping in this bed, and using me as a pillow." He
stated, before quickly slipping away and out of the bed, my head falling down
onto the mattress. "However, I do not want to suffer through the morning with a
headache."
I looked up at him, the bright light from outside burning my eyes as they
opened, and I regretted my decision to wake up at all. "You shouldn't have been
drinking then. Go make some coffee," I demanded, slowly sitting up and rubbing
my forehead. I could feel my own hangover slowly coming on the longer I was
awake.
Sebastian rolled his eyes, grabbing a shirt from the floor and pulling it over
his head, "And put the heating on would you? It's freezing!" I called as he
left the room, mumbling something about being an assassin, not a maid. The cold
winter air had settled over the room as Sebastian left, leaving my skin to go
cold as I shivered under the sheets, and I could now understand why he kept the
other blanket on his bed.
I grabbed my clothes from the ground, quickly pulling them on, and grabbing one
of the jumpers Sebastian had thrown on the floor. "I do hope you don't make
awful coffee, Moran." I stated, pulling the jumper on as I entered the kitchen.
Sebastian yawned, pouring some milk in a mug and pushing it towards me.
"What time is it?" Sebastian asked, as I picked the mug up, hugging it close to
me as I tried to keep warm. I shrugged, moving to sit down at the table. "So
what have you got for me today?" Sebastian questioned, turning to face me, his
own mug in hand as he leaned against the counter.
"Have you seen my phone?" I questioned, looking around the room, before
spotting it on the couch. Sebastian shook his head, as I moved to retrieve it,
finding a new message from Severin. The schedule he and Richard had set up.
Nothing interesting. "You remember A.G.R.A?" I questioned, sitting back at the
table and drinking some of the coffee, rather amazed that Sebastian hadn't
screwed it up!
"The assassins you had me kill?" He checked. I nodded my head, unlocking the
phone and searching through my contacts. I had things to set up and people to
check in on. Plus a house that needed moving into. Busy day.
"Well it turns out one of them is still alive. Rosamund Mary. I need you to
find her, and bring her back to me. Alive." I informed him. Sebastian looked
confused, raising his eyebrow as he finishing his coffee and placing the mug in
the sink.
"How do you suppose I do that?" He questioned. I sighed, slamming the cup down
on the table, looking up and glaring at him.
"Do you honestly expect me to do everything, Moran?" I snapped. Sebastian shook
his head, starting to pick up the bottles of alcohol we had been drinking from
the previous night. "I'll send you a phone number, call them and give them her
name, you'll have her location within minutes."
"Fine. I'll get on it as soon as I'm changed." He agreed, disappearing into his
room. I turned my attention back to the phone, finding the contact I had been
looking for. Eurus. A young girl I had met at Wintersfield, who had been able
to simply reprogramme people simply by talking to them. She was just the person
I needed for Sebastian.
'11:24 I have an assignment for you. Need it this week. You can have whatever
you want for this job. -JM'
'11:27 If your willing to give me anything, this must be good. I'll keep it as
a favour, if that's okay with you? Insurance. -Eurus.'
'11:30 Fine. I am not allowing you near the Holmes' though. Not yet anyways. -
JM'
"So am I meeting you at the house, or back here?" Sebastian asked, as he left
his room, duffel bag slung over his shoulder and phone in hand.
"House. I'll have your stuff moved there today." I assured him, "Tomorrow we
see Eurus. And then I'll need to have you hunt down and kill each of the people
who know where we live." Sebastian nodded, looking me up and down, and very
obviously not paying attention.
"Is that my jumper?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. I looked down, pulling
on the jumper and shrugging.
"It's fucking freezing." I shrugged, standing up and moving my mug to the sink.
"Anyways, get gone. I've sent you the number, I need you back at the house for
three." Sebastian nodded, turning around and walking towards the door, when he
stopped int his tracks.
He looked down at his hands, turning around slowly and walking towards me
again. "One try, it's all you've got." He spoke quietly as he thrust a piece of
paper into my hand. I nodded, looking down at it, as he left the apartment, not
once looking back.
The whole note was awful. The horrible thoughts that plagued his mind. I sat
down at the table again, I hadn't finished reading it. I didn't want to finish
it, but I had to. I needed to. I needed to know how bad Sebastian was, how to
help him. I needed to know every flaw, every perfection, everything about him.
It was like a drug. The man who wasn't afraid of me, the man who didn't care.
It wasn't because he was suicidal. It couldn't be, if he was suicidal he would
subconsciously get into reckless situations when around me, hoping it would
kill him. I should test him. Test his loyalty. Test his reflexes.
I took a deep breath as I straightened out the paper.
"Dear whoever,
I can't do this. I can't live a normal life, not after what I've done. What
I've seen. I never wanted things to be this bad. I thought after my father
things could only get better. Then I killed my mother. Things will never get
better after that. She begged me to though, I did it for her. Shouldn't that
make things easier?
I've never felt so alone. I'm sat in the dark of an abandoned house, not a
penny to my name and high on God knows what. I'm hoping it will kill me by the
time I finish writing this. Maybe before if I'm lucky.
I always wanted things to be easy, even though I knew they weren't. I went to a
good school, my family were rather well off, I had nothing to complain about.
Nothin but an abusive father. Of course no one knew about that. No one does
know. Only Severin and I. Mother knew but... After taking a bullet to the head
I'd be amazed if she knew anything anymore, of course she's six feet under now,
so even if she did know it wouldn't matter. She'd never be able to tell anyone.
No one will ever find out. No one will probably ever know. I need someone.
Someone to tell me that it's okay what I did. I need someone to tell me that I
did the right thing. I'd never believe it though.
The way her eyes glossed over and they went empty, the dull lifeless eyes that
stared up at the sky as blood spilled down her face. The bright blue to match
the clear sky above, the sun shining down. I wish it was raining that day. I
wish there was thunder and lighting and the sky was black, the grass damp. I
wish it wasn't such a beautiful day. I wish the weather matched the mood I was
in.
I'm not that lucky though. I'm never that lucky. I just want a way out. I want
to swap places with my mother, I want to be the one lying in that grave. The
look Severin gave me when he found out she was dead. I was sure he knew. I was
convinced he knew. He blamed my father though. He went down for the crime and
here I am. I know the truth...
I just want to get away. I need to get away. All I want is to disappear. The
drugs are taking effect now. Heroin. Coke. Speed. Acid. I don't know what the
fuck I took. I just hope that it ends the pain I'm fee-"
That's where it ends. Cut off mid-sentence. I felt sick. I needed to know what
had happened to him. He was my own personal drug. I was addicted to him from
the second I saw him.
I slammed my hands against the table, "What the fuck is going on with me?" I
screamed, raking my hand through my hair. I just want to scream. This isn't
normal. Not for me. I was wearing his damn jumper! I don't share clothes. I
don't sleep in other people's beds. I don't get drunk with people. Fuck I don't
even introduce people to my family, even previous bodyguards! Before or after
Richard had been taken!
In the space of a month I had spent the night with this man, wore his clothes,
got drunk with him, introduced him to my family, gave him control of most of my
income, got him clean from drugs and showed some form of emotion towards him!
One month and he had seen and found out more about me that Richard has in
twenty three years!
I looked down at the piece of paper, it hurt. It sent pain through out my whole
body. It made me feel sick and scared. It made me want to scream and cry and
throw up. It made me feel emotions I had never felt before. It made me want to
hold him and help him. Save him.
I sighed, staring down at the piece of paper. I'd been sat there a little over
an hour by now and all I wanted was for Sebastian to return. That was until I
saw there was more writing on the back of the paper.
I raised an eyebrow, turning it over. The note was neater than the other, as
though he had taken his time to write it.
"Boss,
The details I told Severin; Mother was outside, she was crying, father found
her. He wasn't happy, he had just found out I was joining the army. He shot
her. That was it.
Thank you for this.
Moran.
I nodded, this was going to be an easy job. One simple memory changed to be not
exactly a lie. The whole thing would still be the same, it just wouldn't be
Sebastian taking the shot. Eurus could do it. She was good at this stuff.
Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.
•••
Sebastian got to the house on time. He looked tired as he sat down at the table
I had placed in the kitchen, "Do you have to listen to that awful music?" He
complained, resting his head in his hands.
I glared at him, hiring the volume and beginning to sing along. "Do you hear
the people sing? Singing the songs of angry me. It is the music of the people
who will not be slaves again!" I sang, pouring some milk into the coffee I had
been making and placing it on the table in front of him.
"Seriously, Boss! Can you turn it down at least!" He yelled over the music,
wrapping his hands around the mug. I rolled my eyes, but complied, turning it
down so it was barely a whisper in the background. "Thank you..."
"Severin called. He asked to phone him back, something about your father." I
shrugged. Sebastian visibly tensed, his whole body seeming to go stiff as I
mentioned the word. "And tomorrow I fix that head of yours." I reminded him.
"Okay..." He mumbled, standing up to leave the room.
I watched as he walked away, hugging the cup close to his chest. For an army
colonel he was very emotional, maybe I could... No. I'm not doing that again.
Maybe I could get her to do it to me though? I wondered. Worth a try...
***** Eurus *****
Chapter Summary
     Eurus! Sebastian gets his head fixed and Jim works out his feelings.
Chapter Notes
     So this is it... The end of the line. This is where I get off.
     (Read the notes at the end!)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Name: Jim Moriarty
Age: 23
Eurus Richardson. Eurus was smart, she could reprogramme anyone just by talking
to them. I had her held at Winterfield too, but she was free to come and go as
she pleased within reason. Plus she had to be supervised, at a distance. She
had agreed to these terms and we had found a way that meant neither of us could
compromise the other.
She had an interest in the Holmes family too. We had shared a lot of our past
with each other over the years. When she heard of the Holmes boys she was
intrigued, she had always wanted to be a part of the fun, and therefore I did
everything I could to keep her away from them. At least for now.
"Where are we going?" Sebastian questioned, as we climbed into the helicopter.
He seemed nervous, agitated. He obviously hadn't slept all night and I could
see he was sket kcal of what I was leading him into.
"Winterfield." I told him simply. "There's someone there who knows just how to
fix us both." I smirked, plugging my headphones into my phone.
"Is she who you went to..." He trailed off, seeing I was glaring at him. He
dropped the subject after that, leaving me to zone out and listen to the music,
when I remembered a question that had been bugging me.
I turned and tapped Sebastian on the shoulder, pulling the note out of my
pocket. "What happened?" I asked, pointing to the end of it. Sebastian
shrugged.
"I got a job." I raised an eyebrow, hoping he would take the hint and
elaborate, as he sighed. "I was attacked the night I wrote it, three guys. I
killed them all with my bare hands. Apparently some guy witnessed it and
tracked me down. He offered me a job. One hit, thousand quid. So I sobered up,
and off I went. I never finished the note, probably a subconscious thing. I'd
finish it when I actually go to do it."
I frowned, shaking my head and stuffing the note in my pocket again. "I'll need
their name, and I need to know what happened to the guys you killed." I sighed,
more work for me. Yay.
"Didn't give me a name, simply went by 'the wolf'. The bodies were dumped far
off in the ocean, packed in bags full of rocks." He explained. The wolf. Why
was it always the fucking wolf.
"You've got no ties with him have you? No unpaid debts or anything?" Sebastian
shook his head as I began working on a plan to take him out. I had been waiting
to do so, but I wanted to wait for the right time. Preferably when he agreed to
work with me. An alliance between us could have been perfect, he had a rather
powerful hold over the underworld. He didn't have as much power as I did, but
he was catching up.
"He'll need to be taken out, I'll get someone on it right away."
•••
Eurus was sat in the middle of the room, her head down and hands resting on her
knees. "Good morning." I spoke up, as the speakers turned on. She was held
behind soundproof glass when I allowed her to do these things. She started to
go too far and I shut the audio off.
I walked forward, tapping my finger over the glass and assuring everything was
in place. "This is Sebastian Moran." I introduced, motioning over my shoulder
as she looked up at me. "Theres been a slight change of plan and I'll need you
to do two jobs." I explained. Sebastian stayed quiet, his hands shoved in his
pockets as he watched the young girl.
"I expect double the payment." I nodded in agreement, as I placed a piece of
paper in the small container to the side. On it had everything I needed her to
do, along with her payment. An idea. One that would tear apart the whole Holmes
family.
"The instructions are on the back. I'll need you to do Sebastian first, and
make sure it's perminant." Sebastian looked between us both, moving forward
slightly. "I need you to listen to her, to answer every question she has
honestly and to empty your mind. If she starts to go too far, and tries to push
it too much the audio will cut out and you will be removed from the room. And
you will not get any payment of any sort, and I'm pretty sure you do not want
to miss out on this."
Eurosport stood up, retrieving the piece of paper, her eyes scanning over it.
Her lips turned up in a wicked grin as she nodded her head. "I'll be good." She
smirked, shoving it into her pocket. "This plan of yours is going to take a few
years to figure out though, don't you think I deserve something to amuse myself
with in the mean time?"
"You'll get your own ID card for the asylum. You'll have access to Sherrinford.
Have your way with him, but do not let him leave that room. The video playing
is very... Important to him." I laughed. She nodded in agreement, and turned to
face the ex-colonel.
"He's pretty isn't he?" She laughed. I rolled my eyes, moving away to the back
of the room and starting to type out some emails, carefully listening to
everything they were saying. "Why are you here?" She asked him, her voice soft
and almost friendly.
"To stop remembering what I did." He stated, looking down at the ground. Eurus
nodded, checking the paper again to make sure he was telling the truth.
"And what did you do?" She questioned, starting to walk around the room and
skipping every so often.
"I killed my mother."
"Why?"
"She begged me to. So my father wouldn't."
"How do you know you killed her?"
"I remember doing it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"You're wrong. Your father killed her."
"No. I did it." He argued, as tears sprang to his eyes. I could hear the doubt
in his voice though. Anyone could do this. Anyone could tell him that his
father did it not him, but no one could do it like Eurus. Something about her
voice, something about her, just made people doubt it.
"He shot her. He found her crying outside, don't you remember?"
"No. I was covered in her blood."
"You held her when you found her. You tried to keep her alive."
"I had a gun in my hand."
"You fought it from your father. You were going to kill him. You couldn't
though."
"Severin.."
"He didn't see what happened."
"Why didn't I kill him?"
"You didn't want to be a killer."
"I joined the army to kill people."
"You fought for your country. You didn't want to be a cold blooded killer then.
You enjoy it now though."
"I do.."
"You kill people for fun now. You could kill him now."
"I could."
"You should."
"I should.."
"You wi-"
"Eurus!" I yelled, snapping them both out of the little trance they had going.
They both turned to look at me, their eyes wide as they snapped out of it. "No
ideas. Just finish what I asked you to do."
She groaned, turning to look at him again and smirked. "You were innocent. You
are innocent. There is not good or bad, but you didn't kill her, you didn't
kill your father. You just watched it happen. It fuelled your love for
killing."
"It did.." He smiled, as I walked up behind him, stabbing him in the neck with
a sedative. "I didn't kill her..." He whispered as he collapsed to the ground,
hitting his head aphard against the floor.
"I was having fun then!" Eurus whined, watching as he fell to the floor. Her
arms crossed over her chest. "So what am I doing to you?"
"I need to be rid of emotions. All emotion, just like we talked about." I
explained, Eurus grinned her eyes wide and full of excitement.
"Great! What brought this on so suddenly though?" She wondered, as she crossed
the room and grabbed some headphones, putting them in the container to the
side. I rolled my eyes, taking them out and placing them over Sebastian's ears.
This wasn't to effect him. "Are you in love?" She laughed, quickly glancing to
the man on the floor.
"No. I just want them gone. I have things to do and I can't have emotions
getting in the way." I argued, sitting on the floor and crossing my legs. Eurus
copied the action, sitting in front of me, the glass being the only thing
separating us.
"Let's get on with it then."
•••
When Sebastian awoke he was still dazed, his eyes darting around the room as he
tried to remember what happened. Eurus and I were sat playing a card game, the
glass now removed and speakers turned off. "What..." Sebastian mumbled, rubbing
his head and glancing between us both.
"I injected you with a sedative, wanna play?" I dead panned, holding the cards
out in front of me. Sebastian shook his head, moving back to lean against the
wall and pulling his knees up to his chest.
"Good, we're leaving then. Good too see you Eurus. I'll keep in touch about the
plan." I told her, standing up and brushing dirt from my clothes. Sebastian
struggled to his feet following behind as I turned to leave.
"Nice to meet you." He smiled at the woman, and she returned the gesture,
moving back towards the wall as the glass was replaced. "Where to now?" He
yawned once out of the room.
"Home. I have work to do, and several jobs for you."
"Yes, sir." Work if going to get rather fun...
Chapter End Notes
     Please comment and let me know what you thought of this! I have
     already began to plot out the sequal so if you follow my Twitter or
     my Instagram you'll find out when I post it!
     I don't know what to call this series though, so leave some ideas in
     the comments! Please, please, please!
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!