His head hurt and there was a great pounding in his mind. Where was he? And more important, how had he gotten here? Sherlock tried to ignore the overwhelming pain that threatened to devour him and tried to remember anything at all. He had been walking down the street holding two bags of groceries, John would be so proud of him…but then someone grabbed him and everything went dark. That was the last thing he remembered. He was probably drugged because of the tingling he could feel in his fingers.
Everything around Sherlock was dark and he could not move an inch. He could feel the cold concrete he was laying on and frowned in distaste as he realized just how dirty the floor actually was. He tried pulling his hands apart but they were painfully tied behind his back, so all he could do was wait there helplessly on the cold floor. Who could be behind this? He asked himself but there was no doubt who would do this. He knew Moriarty wanted to harm him and the day must have finally come. Sherlock immediately felt alarmed and tried even more desperately to free himself. His heart was racing as he found the bonds around his legs loosen up and he grinned to himself pleased with the hope of escaping.
Suddenly he went ice cold as he heard the door slam open loudly and a familiar voice rang out. "Oh my Sherly, you can't be leaving soo sooon?" He stated in his sing-song voice and the fake accent was subtle but still present. Sherlock immediately regained his indifferent composure and managed to look bored even if he was startled. "Isn't his a bit cliché? Tied up on the floor blindfolded, even for you this is very unoriginal" Sherlock said in a matter of fact tone as he smirked in the direction of the voice. His blindfold was ripped off and he closed his eyes at the sudden invasion of light to his senses. "Only the best for you my dear" Moriarty said as he grinned maliciously down at him and he could not help but shiver at those cold brown eyes. He could now see his arch enemy was dressed in his usual expensive looking suit, which was completely out of place in the dirty old room they were currently in.
Moriarty stroked Sherlocks sweaty shirt before walking around him possessively with an evil glint in his eyes. Sherlock just stared straight up into his eyes using his good and old death glare. "What are you planning on doing with me?" he finally asked breaking the tension in the damp air. Moriarty came to a halt and rubbed his hands together slowly before responding in a low and threatening tone. "I gave you so many chances…to come over to my side, it's not that you don't belong on the side of crime it's just the tiiinyy little fact that you are so stubborn to admit how dark and messed up you truly are. They don't deserve you. The angels, they don't appreciate your brilliance and you are wasting it on their side even as they tease you and try to destroy you in a shower of insults. Even your pet doctor can't stand you, he laughs at you behind your back and you are giving him the perfect weapon to ruin you with. You are alone for the sole reason that you are simply unlovable. You have always been alone and you will die alone and forgotten. Who could stand to be around such a worthless machine…such a sociopath. They don't care about you…at all."
Sherlock stares up at him speechless. He can feel the tears that threaten to overspill but he manages to hold them at bay. It is true what he says….but not all of it. They do all consider him a freak that they have to endure in the sake of solving crimes. His whole life he has been the target of ridicule and beatings, just because he was a bit different. Actually saying he is a little different is sugar coating on an unhealthy level. As a child he could see things nobody else could see, and knew way more than anyone around him. Even the teachers who normally adored brilliant children could not stand him and pushed him away like a diseased rat. He had always been alone and that was just a part of his normal life. He got used to the loneliness at an early age and decided to not give anybody the chance to hurt him in such a way. Alone is what I have, Alone protects me. But not John. John is different. When people insult Sherlock, John gets angry and stands up for him even if he doesn't deserve it. John has seen the worst of Sherlock and knows how absolutely and ridiculously annoying he can be, but he still likes being in his company. John is the only one that managed to see through his cold exterior and make him drop the mask he holds up for the rest of the world, and he loved every part of him that was underneath. It didn't matter that the whole world was against him as long as he had John to face it with him.
Moriarty has a smug smile as he walks past the quiet form of Sherlock and reaches a silver table in the corner of the room. "I see you agree with me, your loss of words is making that fairly obvious. I thought you liked to talk, Hmm? But I am only telling you what you already know Freak." Sherlock gritted his teeth and felt his anger grow stronger. "If you really believe that I care about what some simple minded imbeciles think of me, then you clearly have not been paying attention. The only opinion I care about is my own." Moriarty gave him a cold laughter that made the whole room seem even darker and said "you care about John don't you? You can't seem to take your eyes off of him when he is around."
"He is my flatmate" Sherlock shot back in a calm tone. But he himself knew that John was much more than Just a flatmate. All the cold nights when he could not sleep because of nightmares, John was there to calm him down and hold him tight until the sun rose again. He would melt against his muscled chest and for a moment everything seemed to be all right because John promised nothing would be able to harm him.
"I believe he means more to you than you are able to admit" Moriarty said absent minded as he held up a pair of pliers and gave them a considerable look. Sherlock stared at the tool wide eyed and he could feel his breath catch in his throat. If he could just buy himself some time then someone was sure to come and stop this madness! People ought to be looking for him and somebody had to find him eventually. "Why do you care about how popular I am? It is not like you could ever understand what it feels like to care about someone."
"ouch, Sherly you hurt my feelings. I am mr. sex and I don't struggle to make people like me." Moriarty suddenly jumped and kicked Sherlock hard across the face in a brutal swing of his foot. Sherlock looked panic stricken as he spit blood on the dirty floor and he could feel his face swelling up already. Moriarty grabbed a fistful of Sherlocks silky black hair and forced him up on his knees painfully before he whispered into his ear grinning. "Beside I could never meet anyone as lovely as you in a thousand lifetimes." Before Sherlock could respond Moriarty forced his mouth open and stuck the pliers harshly in his mouth. He choose a big tooth at the back of his mouth and started to twist it painfully upward, ignoring Sherlocks pained gasps. He yanked the tooth loose in one swift motion and held it up to the light admiring his good work as he let Sherlock crumble to the floor.
He could feel the metallic taste in his mouth as he lay there in shock. This could not be happening to him. Moriarty had just pulled out his tooth and he was close to hyperventilating at the moment. The pain was terrible and he could not speak or even think at the moment. "hellooo, anyone at home?" Moriarty slapped his face lightly to get him out of his trance and Sherlock could only stare up at him in unbelievable rage. "You son of a bitch" he spat as he shook in utter rage and terror. Moriarty chuckled nonchalantly as he whipped some blood on Sherlocks favourite black coat. He then picked up a screwdriver from the table and made his way to his guest. Sherlock frantically started crawling away from Moriarty but he was no match for him in his vulnerable state. He panicked slightly when his ankle was grabbed and the sudden burst of adrenaline gave him the strength to kick Moriarty hard in the face so that he flew back.
Sherlocks heart was racing as he crawled in the direction of the door. He didn't get far though because suddenly excruciating pain took over his senses. A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the room and he fell on his back. Sherlock let out a pained growl as he looked up to see the rusty screwdriver buried in his left leg. Moriarty looked absolutely terrifying as he jumped on top of Sherlock and started hitting his face with all his might. There was blood pouring from his nose and he kept hitting Sherlock as if his life depended on it. When he finally calmed down Sherlock was barely conscious. "You are going to regret doing that Sherlock. I thought you were supposed to be smart." Sherlock made a irritated sniff and tried once again to free himself. Moriarty held him down as he reached once again for the pliers that were laying on the floor beside them. "Even John won't want to be seen with you by the time I'm done with you" Moriarty declared as he grabbed Sherlocks wrist, and took hold of one of his fingers with the pliers.
"No. Don't you dare" Sherlock glared at moriarty with anger and undeniable hate as his heart rate grew faster. Moriarty glared into his eyes with a toothy grin as he applied a bit of pressure on his sensitive finger, studying Sherlocks distressed face. Sherlock opened his mouth to protest but before he could say anything else there was a sickening crunch and Sherlock screamed with pain. Sherlock cried out and tried to push the weigh off of him, but it was no use. Moriarty looked delighted with the results and took hold of yet another finger. "Maybe you will say pretty please this time?" Moriarty stated in a dark tone. Sherlock could not see clearly because of his tear stained eyes but he bit his tongue, not ready to beg this bastard for mercy. That was not his style.
He squeezed the pliers harshly and twisted the finger back, ripping muscle and crushing bone. Sherlocks throat was sore because of the endless screaming but he didn't care at the moment. He just wanted the pain to stop. Moriarty laughed and gleefully took Sherlocks tumb in his grip. "I'm just loving this intimate moment we're having don't you agree? Look at you, you are shaking out of joy. It's your thumb this time dear."
Sherlock let his head fall back as he looked up at the ceiling with a pained expression. He could feel blood seeping through his pants where he had been stabbed. He was no stranger to pain but he knew he had a limit. Sherlock suddenly managed to lift his hands up to grasp at his captors throat. He wrapped his hands hastily around it and squeezed as hard as he could. Moriarty was taken aback for a moment before he gave Sherlock a hard blow to his head, which made him loose his grip. Moriarty took hold of Sherlocks neck and cut off his air supply in a painful way. Sherlock gasped for air as he struggled and he wondered if the maniac was actually going to strangle him to death there on the spot. His vision was going black around the edges and his protests were getting weaker when he finally found the sweet relief of air back in his lungs.
He coughed violently as he regained his strength, tearing up from the pain around his sore throat. When he looked up again he felt a new reign of terror. Moriarty was holding a large box cutter and was sporting an evil smile that could only belong to the devil. Not that Sherlock believed in such things of course. "I wonder how many times I could carve my name on your body. Would you prefer Moriarty or Jim?" he stated absent minded.
"No…plea…please don't. I can't take any more." Sherlock sobbed the words out fearfully. His hand was on fire and every bone in his body hurt. He could not take any more pain and he knew it. His eyes were stuck on the sharp weapon in Jim's hand, which could end his life at any moment. Moriarty looked taken aback by this sudden change in demeanor and spoke up waving the knife for good measure . "I'm listening". Sherlock closed his eyes from the pain and also because he could not stand to look at those cold malicious eyes any longer. "Please stop this!" He screamed out in between sobs and added. "I just…please..it hurts and I can't take any more pain. I can't think and I…I don't know what to do right now...what do you want from me? Just…just tell me what you want…please, I'll do anything you want if you…just stop…please I beg you. Is this about John? I'll tell you what you want to know if you…stop, yes we are lovers and I miss him so much right now." Sherlock cried the last few words and Moriarty looked very pleased with himself.
He let go of Sherlock and got on his feet smirking as the consulting detective trembled in fear on the floor. He pulled Sherlock up until he was on his knees before him and towered above him. Sherlock looked up with a confused expression that quickly went grave as a zipper was pulled down. "You said you'd do anything, remember." Moriarty stated as he pulled out his already half hard member. Sherlock went even paler but his cheeks were burning red. He hesitantly opened his mouth but quickly closed it again. He had done this before with John but never like this. He had never been forced against his will to do anything with him and it had not felt like he was being humiliated and hurt just for pleasure. "I..I can't do this…please don't make me…please don't. His head hung low as he cried in shame not able to stop himself. Moriarty suddenly grabbed Sherlocks hair extremely hard and forced himself inside his mouth. Sherlock tried to pull his head back as he choked on the swollen penis, and hoped it would be over soon. Moriarty closed his eyes and grunted in pleasure, going faster and faster. "Use your hands." He commanded and Sherlock obliged reluctantly. He moved his tongue around the swelling cock hoping this would just be over soon. Moriarty came within the minute moaning loudly and holding Sherlock still, so that he would swallow every drop.
Sherlock fell on the floor in a sobbing heap after the consulting criminal let him go. "Stop crying honey, you were great" Moriarty said as he slowly pulled a baseball bat off the table after pulling himself together. Sherlock watched horrified and said in a low voice. "You promised to stop hurting me" Moriarty grinned as he walked closer. "I may have lied. But I don't worry I'm not going to kill you, no no nooo I'm just going to be a bit artistic with your legs that's all." Sherlock scrabbled back horrified and tried to get away even if he knew it was hopeless. "no no no please don't! please not my legs! Don't...stay back! He cried desperately as he came closer with the bat.
Suddenly a loud noise was heard and the door flew open. John was standing by the door, gun in hand and looking pretty fucking pissed. Moriarty stood still looking shocked at the sudden intrusion but he quickly snapped out of it. He dropped the bat in a moment's notice and reached for his gun inside of his black jacket. John pulled the trigger and bullets flew through the air, piercing Moriarty's heart. Blood gashed through his shirt and he fell to the floor clawing at his heart frantically. An ambulance could be heard in the distance and John threw himself at Sherlock, holding him carefully. "Are you alright? Jesus what did he do to you?" Sherlock could not grasp what was happening. Moriarty was dying before him, he would not be able to hurt him anymore. And John was here with him. Sherlock looked up into Johns caring eyes and embraced the warmth of his arms. "oh John, you came". He could not hold back the sobs that engulfed him and cried quietly into his soft but ridiculous jumper. "Shh it's okay now" John said as he stroked sherlocks hair thoughtfully.
Everything was going to be okay.