Unawareness
Title: Unawareness
Author: runes01
Rating: Uh... PG-13?
Word Count: 1,500
Pairings: Jim/John, slight Sherlock/John?
Disclaimer: If I owned Sherlock, I'd know how Sherlock did not end up dying.
Summary: After the trial, Moriarty happens to pick up John.
Notes: Written for Make Me a Monday prompt: http://sherlockbbc.livejournal.com/3734344.html?thread=33085768#t3308576
Thanks to t_bag_lover for prompting it and stirring my brain up! First Sherlock fic, and unbetaed and brit-picked
When the black car comes rolling up next to him, John can’t say that he’s really surprised. After all, he had been expecting Mycroft to call on him sooner or later, questioning Sherlock’s reactions to Moriarty’s verdict of not guilty. Of course, the man would go about it in his usual fashion of meeting in warehouses, having a slightly amused, yet threatening look on his face. It was all so routine now; he could expect these visits about every month.
Sliding into the car and making himself comfortable, John realizes two things. One, there is no secretary/assistant continuously texting on her phone. Two, instead, there is a man sitting right next to him and smelling of expensive cologne.
Unwillingly, he turns his head and sees Moriarty sitting there, grinning that little grin he always has on. It’s so morbid and he can’t help but clench his hand, causing his nails to bite deep into his palms. But, he doesn’t dare do anything, demand why he has just been “kidnapped”- Not that he really had been, seeing as he had slid into the car of his own free will- because he knows what the consulting criminal will do. Perhaps not a Semtex vest again, but something more elaborate, or perhaps a simple bombing of the streets of London. It chafes at John, knowing that anything he might do will set this criminal off on a killing spree.
“Sherlock’s elder brother certainly has trained you well, isn’t that right, Johnny-boy? Sliding into a black car without any question as to who’s in it,” Moriarty croons, a smug look on his face. “To think, you would already be so domesticated to the point that Daddy doesn’t even have to do anything!”
He can’t help but feel the urge to just lunge at Moriarty, to crush his windpipe, feel the neck give way to the pressure of his hands. John doesn’t, knowing that Moran is most likely in the front of the car, keeping an eye on them, and that if he did so, London would go up in flames. Instead, he has to settle for a sullen, “What do you want?” resolutely not looking at that infuriating look on Moriarty’s face.
“I really don’t see what Sherlock sees in you, pet,” pouts the madman, a petulant tone coloring his words. “Ever so dull, never thinking! “What do you want?” is never the correct question! Surely, the constant companion of Sherlock Holmes would be able to deduce my intentions without me having to tell you!”
John flatly stares at Moriarty, not rising to the obvious statement underlying Moriarty’s words- That he is in fact, an idiot, and doesn’t deserve to be with Sherlock, especially when Sherlock’s genius doesn’t manage to somehow rub off on him. Why in the world Sherlock’s genius would rub off onto him, when Lestrade still hasn’t managed to deduce anything more than he normally does? It’s not as if genius or deductions can be passed onto other people!
He can see that Moriarty is slowly getting irritated with his lack of response and sighs, instead asking, “What do you expect of me? Will you be using me as a living bomb again, strap me to a Semtex vest, try to get underneath Sherlock’s skin?”
While it’s not an exact realization, John can feel the insanity that is Moriarty, can hear it the words “Oh so excellent! That’s more like it, Johnny boy!” It makes him shiver a bit, realizing that this criminal is sitting right next to him, and he has no idea of what his true intentions are. He wants to just get out of the car that he had mistaken as Mycroft’s, and get the hell away from Moriarty. But, it’s not like he can, seeing as the car is in motion, and if he did so, something in London would definitely go “Boom!”
Moriarty can see and taste John’s minute amounts of fear, and it entices him so very much. It reminds him of the reason why he had taken the doctor off of the streets. “But, wouldn’t I be ever so dull if I were to use the same tricks over and over again?” he says brightly, staring at John’s form. “I have no desire to ever strap a bomb to your chest again, especially since after Sherlock dies, I plan on keeping you for myself!”
John jolts up, a stiff look spreading across his face. He clearly gets the meaning of what Moriarty has just outright stated, and disturbs him to think of himself as a prize. “What do you mean?” he questions, not wanting to accept that Moriarty has just stated he wants to keep him as a pet. The thought of it is just so utterly disturbing and absurd- this whole bomb game was between Sherlock and the criminal, he should have never mattered enough to be considered as spoils of a war.
“Surely you would understand, being in a war yourself, seeing all the carnage and thievery that goes on!” cries Moriarty, a bright gleam coming into his eyes. “After Sherlock dies- And, oh, how he’ll fall, everything about him getting smashed to ruins- I plan on keeping you around. There’s simply something about you that’s ever so intriguing, perhaps that’s why Sherlock keeps such a dimwitted person such as you around. I certainly had never expected for you to shoot the dear old cabby!”
John mouth thins into an angry line as more insults are thrown at him, and that thinly veiled interest in him is flashed out. It infuriates him more than it scares him, simply because this criminal thinks that he can oh so easily rid everyone of Sherlock, and just lay claim to him. He isn’t a possession or pet like Moriarty thinks he is, he instead thinks of himself as an equal to Sherlock, though he does give in to many things that the detective does or wants.
Moriarty simply laughs delightedly at the tight look on John’s face, before a loud ringing cut through the tense atmosphere within the car. He mouths an apology to John, and accepts the call, obviously recognizing the caller id. The look on his face fades from twisted happiness and glee to a sulky pout, which John is grateful for, because staring at that insane look on his face is so disconcerting
“It seems that our time is up, Johnny boy!” Moriarty says in a parody of a sad voice, as he ends the call. “But, don’t let this worry you, my dear pet. After all, I’ll have all the time in the world to break that delicious look you have, to make you scream for Daddy. Perhaps I should use the blindfold to increase your anticipation of receiving the reward of my attentions? Or the whip to discipline you? Oh, there are so many choices to choose from that I can’t decide! Isn’t it such a lovely thing that we’ll have all the time in the world once I do the world a favor and rid it of Sherlock?”
“I’d rather not stay with you and your criminal organization, and especially not as a pet,” states John firmly, seeing as the black car finally arriving at Baker Street. “Now, if you would kindly let me go back?”
Moriarty frowns as he realizes that John very much wishes to get away from his grasp. Oh, that wouldn’t do at all! The other had to have some reminder of their little… talk that they had just had. But, of course, dear little pet just had to go home to 221b Baker Street, otherwise Big Brother would certainly hunt him down!
Sighing, he waves his hand at John, seemingly letting the other slide out of the car without any mishaps. Then, like a snake, he strikes, grabbing John by the collar, pulling the other down to his level. Moriarty nips, hard, at the other’s mouth and forces entry through John’s lips, which had been initially nonresistant due to shock, has managed to clam up. As he finishes exploring the soldier’s mouth and pulls back, Moriarty receives a jolt of satisfaction as he sees the bruised, bleeding on John’s lips.
“Well, tell Sherlock that that’s a present from me to him!” he cries out, his mood so much better now. “I can’t wait to play with him in our next and last game and watch him fall!”
John simply stands there, stunned by the actions of Moriarty. It isn’t until Sherlock comes running out of their flat that he’s jolted out of his shock and turns towards the other. And afterwards, a ton of shouting, cursing and threats to kill are made, targeting a certain Consulting Criminal who had managed to kiss and stun John. And he swears that later, the security detail put on him by Mycroft has increased yet again, and thank god that he doesn’t Moriarty for a while, because who knows if Moriarty would give him back the next time.