Umm,so, i saw a picture on FB and,i knew what it was supposed to mean but this is what came to mind instead.
Proglogue: What the Fuck Happened While I Was Dead?
_
Sherlock gets captured by Moriarty and is tortured by Sebastian. He escapes,managing to knock out Seb but he cant find his clothes -which were taken from him to prevent any hidden weapons or actions,along with humiliating him in one go- so he deduces where Moriarty will be in the compound seeing as he has not been informed of Sherlock's escape as of yet and its in the wee hours of the morning. He checks several live-in rooms,including one with several large tvs dedicated to the room Sherlock had been kept in as well as all around the compound,seeming to focus on certain places of interest. That's when the detective notices movement at the corner of one such screen,he turns his attention to it and sees what would appear to be shifting around but the camera is at an odd angle and shows nothing of great value. He thinks it must have been jarred out of its usual place somehow. Still,he can tell its a bedroom and quickly finds his way to it. When he arrives however...
John is splayed out on the ruffled up bed,the blue blanket barely covering him. His right hand is handcuffed to the headboard with a red ring marking where the cuff dug into his wrist. His lip is busted at the corner of his mouth and there are hickeys and bruises covering his body. The room itself is in a disarray. Wine glasses,lotion,condoms and packets of what Sherlock assumes had drugs in them are all strewn about in various places.
Sherlock can see John is in slight discomfort but its more likely from his dreams than his body. Though he is sure to be more than sore his eyes are flitting back and forth in the usual sign of REM sleep and the detective knows from past experience that more often than not he suffered from nightmares.
Moriarty comes up unnoticed behind him and gleefully whispers in his ear. " He /is/ lovely like this. I have to admit. I'm so surprised you didn't have him before you took your little tumble for him. "
Sherlock is infuriated,true he knew Moriarty was beyond corrupted but to do /this/ to John. To John! John didn't even know he was alive anymore. He didn't deserve this, hadn't the whole thing been to spare him?
Before he can land a blow however Jim taps the barrel of his handgun against Sherlock's bare skin. The cold metal a stark contrast to his rage heated body. He vaguely noted it was the same gun as used before in the criminals 'suicide' but his attention is focused on reining in the rage threatening to rip wide open despite the threat of death.
Jim smiles demurely and walks past Sherlock,sitting on the vacant side of the bed. The dip makes John shift and Sherlock dreads the other waking up. Did he as of yet know what had happened to him? what would that do to him when he was conscious? and how would he react to seeing him again. Sherlock has promised himself he wouldn't interfere with Johns life after him, it was best to keep him away,keep him safe. The fear turned out to be unwarranted at the moment as John stayed asleep.
Instead he moved his head to rest on his arm and slung an arm blindly in the direction of the disturbance.
Moriarty Smirks up at Sherlock,keeping the gun trained on him, as he moves a little more securely onto the bed and strokes the ex-soldiers arm in slow soothing circles. And Sherlock feels the pit of his stomach drop out when John smiles slightly with his eyes still closed. Even drugged would an Ex-army doctor with experience in detective work really be so willingly naive in such a state of vulnerability? Sherlock doubted it.
" Oh, you thought i did this all to him without his consent? Oh..no no Sherlock. That would hurt you,yes,very much. But it wouldn't compare to this. I have to admit though, in the past few weeks - yes,it's been going on that long, you have become quite lax in your observations of him- i have become quite...fond...of him. Though i do love a good obedient muscleman John offers up far more stimulating company in more than just the bed. He is smart you know, brilliant by average standards. He's nothing as exhilarating as you but you have to learn to appreciate the above average if you don't want to be alone in the genius levels of society. and alone is boring."
All of this was said quite sedately and softly. while he continues his /touching/ of Johns skin. Moving up now to his shoulder and even playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck every now and then.
"Jim..mm...stop talking,save the business for later and come back to bed." John opened his eyes just barely. He was obviously under the influence of not just sleep and sex but some sort of drug as well,y the haze in his eyes and lack of general awareness that he usually exhibited naturally. "sleep for another hour and ill make it worth your while." he said,leaning in a little closer and lowering his sleep-scratchy voice a bit.
Moriarty smirked at the irrefutable evidence this all put in his favor and Sherlock stumbled backwards. How could his John do this? His John,not Jim's,not anyone else's. But apparently no longer his either,if ever he truly was...