The Light Behind Your Eyes
If I,
Could be with you tonight,
I would sing you to sleep,
Never let them take the light behind your eyes.
I'll fail and lose this fight,
Never fade in the dark,
Just remember, you will always burn as bright.
~The Light Behind Your Eyes, My Chemical Romance
Sebastian Moran never screamed. Not in surprise, or pain, or lust. He was always silent and deadly. Screaming simply was not in his nature. Jim Moriarty was quite the opposite. At the first whisper of pain, he squawled and wailed and carried on, even at the barest scratch. So when Jim asked Sebastian if he could join him on a hunt, Sebastian wanted nothing more than to refuse him. However, Jim was not only the most dangerous, psychopathic criminal in the world, he was Sebastian's boss. Not to mention his boyfriend of two years. So, of course, Sebastian could not turn down his request. Predictably, Jim was loud, making what would have been a simple stakeout and kill and a very messy thing indeed. In the end, they got shot at. The bullet merely grazed Jim's side, but it lodged itself in Sebastian's shoulder. He gave low growl of frustration when the bullet hit him, but nothing more. Sebastian then tried to coax a shrieking Jim home (walking, a cabbie would have asked inconvenient questions). Back at their flat, Sebastian tore the metal from his shoulder, before cleaning and dressing his wound. Jim was sitting on the sofa and whimpering loudly.
"Alright, Jimbo, let's have a look at that slice." said Sebastian, kneeling before him with a bandages and antiseptic spray. Jim eyed it apprehensively
"Will it hurt?" Jim whined. Sebastian tipped his head to the side.
"It might sting a bit."
"No. I don't want it."
"Jimmy…"
"I said no."
"Aw, c'mon kitten, it was filthy in there..."
"No, tiger. That's final."
"Fine. Enjoy your pain." said Sebastian wearily, before he and Jim went to bed.
Over the next days, Jim started looking decidedly ill. Sebastian was not worried; his kitten's immune system was weak at best, resulting in quite a few sick days. One evening, Sebastian returned home, arms laden with take away boxes.
"I've got dinner, Jim!" he called. When there was no response, Sebastian put the food on the table and went to search for the criminal. Sebastian found Jim on the sofa. The Irishman was wracked with shivers that jolted his narrow frame. His lips were blue. Sebastian fell to his knees, and pressed the back of his hand against Jim's forehead. It was cold. Far colder than it ever should have been.
"Jimmy?" asked Sebastian to the shuddering form. There was no response, not even a sign Jim heard him. Without thinking, Sebastian grabbed Jim and half dragged, half carried him to the washroom. Sebastian ran the bath water until it was warm and filled the tub with it. He then stripped himself and Jim and lowered them both into the water. Sebastian had to bend his knees erect to fit them in the tub. The water barely reached past the bottom of his rib cage. But on his lap, Jim would have been completely submerged if Sebastian's right hand had not been cradling his head above water. Sebastian attempted not to think about Jim's nude form pressed against his. Slowly, Jim's quaking began to subside.
"Sebby?" Jim croaked. Sebastian's heart thudded with relief.
"I've gotcha, kitten." Jim became agitated, but his movements were weak.
"Sebby, I've gotta…I'm gonna…" Jim's speech was cut off by a violent bout of coughing that was directed into Sebastian's chest. Jim gagged deeply and there was a warm wetness near Sebastian's breast bone.
"Seb…" Jim murmured. Sebastian lifted him up to cradle him like a baby.
"It's okay, kitten." he said soothingly. Jim turned his head to face Sebastian. There was a dark red on his lips and a metallic component in his breath.
"Shit." snarled Sebastian. He quickly got himself and Jim out of the bath and into clothes. This time, Sebastian did carry Jim. Out the door and into the street to flag down a cab. Once they were inside one, Sebastian explosively retaliated on the cabbie's friendly invitation to conversation.
"Bart's hospital. Quick as you can." The cabbie thankfully seemed to sense the urgency of the situation and kept blessedly quiet. Soon, they reached Bart's and Sebastian pulled Jim out of the cab and on to his feet. The slight Irishman was shaky, but supported by Sebastian be made it quickly to the front desk, just inside the doors.
"He needs to see your best doctor immediately." he demanded forcefully from the woman sitting there.
"He'll need to wait." she nodded to a room filled with other invalids. Sebastian's temper flared. Did she not know that she was talking about the king of the world? He was just about to spit back a venomous retort, when Jim took the time vomit some more blood on the floor. The woman's eyes widened and she called for a gurney. A few nurses strapped a terrified Jim down on to it and took off down the hall. Sebastian trotted after it. The front desk woman loped to keep pace with him.
"What's his name?" Sebastian noticed her nametag. It read 'Dolores'. Deplorable.
"Jim."
"We need his full name or we cannot care for him." Sebastian fought with his immediate rage for a beat before saying
"Moran. Jim Moran." She wrote it down.
"Sebby!" Jim wailed with and incredibly high frequency.
"What's your name again?" asked Dolores annoyingly
"Never said it. I'm Sebastian." she nodded.
"I'll get the doctor." Sebastian eyes her coolly.
"Did you want my permission?" The woman glared at him, then ran off. The nurses turned into an empty hospital room, then put Jim in a hospital gown and laid him on the bed. They did nothing, seemingly waiting for the doctor. Sebastian attempted to enter the room to be with his now mewling kitten, but a nurse stopped him.
"No one can enter right now, we must wait…"
"I'll show you we must wait, you pumped up little…"
"What's going on?" the new voice was pleasant and struck a familiar chord in Sebastian's ears. He could recognize that voice from miles away.
"John?"
"Sebastian?"
"What're you doing here?" John Watson chuckled slightly.
"I work here. I'm a doctor, you know." Oh, did Sebastian know. "What about you?"
"That's my boyfriend." Sebastian nodded toward the hospital room with growing horror.
"Ah, let's have a look at him then, shall we?" said John amiably. He took one look in the room, grabbed Sebastian by the front of his shirt, and dragged the surprised sniper down the hall a ways
"That's Jim Moriarty." snarled John.
"Keep it down, yeah?" growled Sebastian
"Jim bloody Moriarty…" Sebastian shoved John threateningly.
"I said, keep it down. And yeah, so?"
"You expect me to help him after all he's done to Sherlock and I…"
"Wait…are you with Sherlock Holmes?"
"Dating. And yeah, so?"
Alright, smart arse, though Sebastian. He looked John over. John Watson. They'd been closer than brothers in Afghanistan. John took a bullet for him. And Sebastian never repaid him.
"If you fix Jim Moriarty, then he will never bother you or Sherlock ever again." John looked at him, trying to see if he was being sincere or not. Then he stuck out his hand.
"Deal." Sebastian shook his hand. John led the way back to Jim's room. This time when Sebastian tried to enter the room, John told the nurse to let him.
"What seems to be the problem, Jim?" asked John gently.
"Doctor Watson…" began Jim, attempting to be silky, but coming out sickly. He was silenced with a warning look from Sebastian that he did not have the strength to fight against.
"He was grazed by a bullet. Then, he wouldn't let me clean the wound. Then, he got sick. Came home this evening. Found him near enough hypothermic. Got him in warm water. He warmed up. Then, he spewed blood." John looked slightly taken aback by Sebastian's calm rendition of Jim's condition. He may as well have been the shooter. John took it all in stride, though and cast a calculating eye over Jim. He felt Jim's lymphnodes, prodded him here and there, and overall jostled him. He asked where Jim's pain was, and he weakly gestured to his chest and abdomen.
"Did you ever bandage the wound that Sebastian was telling me about?" John asked. Jim nodded weakly.
"On my right side." John shooed the nurses out of the room, then lifted Jim's gown to reveal a dirty, tattered bandage. John carefully lifted it away from Jim's body. Immediately, a putrid odour permeated the air. The small wound had become a large one. It oozed yellow pus and stank like rotting meat.
"Oh, Jimmy," sighed Sebastian. He pressed gentle kiss on to Jim's sweaty, unkempt head, so unlike the criminal.
"So, I suppose he didn't take care of it after all." said John. Sebastian knew that John was trying to lighten the mood, but the jovial doctor had taken a serious tone that didn't bode well with the sniper.
"When was the last time he drank any water?" asked John with a dark tone that cause a flare of fear to ignite in Sebastian's stomach.
"How should I know?" growled Sebastian, covering his fear with anger.
"It could be the difference between life and death. But he looks dehydrated, so let us get him on fluids." John then summoned a nurse and demanded an I.V., a blood test and something to clean and seal Jim's wound. A few minutes later, the nurse returned with what John had asked for. John took the blood sample and gave it back to the nurse with strict instructions that a Molly Hooper be the only one to look at it, and that she do it as soon as possible. He then hooked Jim up to an I.V. and cleaned and sealed Jim's wound. Jim sobbed and clutched Sebastian's had throughout the whole process.
"Sebastian. I'm sorry, but Jim really needs to get some sleep." said John.
"Are you evicting me?" asked Sebastian menacingly, rising to his full height of six-foot-seven.
"I'm afraid so. I'd let you stay except there is the potential that you could cross contaminate him and make him sicker." Sebastian nodded, anger temporarily quelled.
"He won't sleep without me."
"We planned on giving him something to help."
"He's resistant to that kind of thing. It'll take nothing short of anesthesia."
"Then what do you propose?" Sebastian paused to think for a moment.
"Give me, like, fifteen minutes. I can be back with something." John nodded.
"If it really will be just fifteen."
"Yes." with that, Sebastian walked quickly from the room. He burst out the doors of the hospital and flagged a cab. One stopped and Sebastian entered it.
"Where to, buddy?" asked the cabbie. Sebastian jammed a cigarette between his lips and lit it.
"Nearest toy store." Sebastian exhaled a long stream of smoke.
"Hey, you can't smoke in here, pal. Sorry." said the cabbie. Sebastian's fingers found their way around the cabbie's throat.
"Fuck with me right now. I dare you." Sebastian growled low.
"My apologies, sir. Toy store, sir. Right away, sir." the cabbie choked.
"Better."
"So the toy store, sir. How many children do you have? I'm sure you have a lovely wife, sir."
"What's your name?"
"James, sir. James Thaddley."
"Do yourself a favour, Thaddley. Shut the hell up."
"Yes, sir." Once they reached the toy store, Sebastian stepped out of the car.
"Be here waiting for me, Thaddley. I won't be long. Then it is straight back to Bart's." Thaddley nodded.
"Is one of your kids sick, sir? I'm sorry to hear that."
"You bloody will be if you don't shut your Goddamn mouth!" barked Sebastian. He put out his cigarette and lit another before dashing into the store. He paced down the aisles for a few minutes before finding what he wanted. It was a stuffed, blue-eyed tiger about the size of Sebastian's hand, but it would be the perfect size for Jim. Sebastian aggressively threw money down at the woman who was checking out the toys. She yelled for him that he needed to wait in the queuing line, just like everyone else, but Sebastian was already out the door and into the cab. The moment he closed the door, Thaddley sped off to the hospital. Quickly they reached the hospital and Sebastian gave Thaddley a fifty pound note before taking off into the hospital and to Jim's room.
"That's incredible. It's just struck fifteen minutes since you left." exclaimed John as Sebastian reentered the room. Jim looked pale and his hospital gown was different. Sebastian threw John a questioning look.
"What happened?"
"He got sick again. I think tomorrow we will have to do an ultrasound, just to make sure that there's nothing bleeding. I hope he's just vomiting up excess blood that simply happened to get in his stomach when he was shot." Sebastian nodded.
"I hope so too."
"Sebby?" Jim turned his head. Sebastian could not help but smile at the innocence in those black eyes.
"I've brought you something to help you sleep, kitten." Jim's head lifted his head a little more with attention. Jim loved getting gifts. Sebastian thought it something to do with Jim's bitter and little discussed childhood. Sebastian dropped the stuffed tiger into Jim's lap. The criminal, while he enjoyed intensive mind games that effectively tortured his victim's until they begged for death, was also very whimsical and enjoyed the occasional stuffed animal. He would care for it for awhile, but soon he would get bored and rip it to pieces. Jim immediately hugged it to his chest.
"It's so you fall asleep." said Sebastian a little gruffly.
"Sleep is boring though." complained Jim. John chuckled.
"What would it take?" asked Sebastian, who was used to bargaining with Jim.
"Can I have your hoodie?" Sebastian sighed, he had had nothing on beneath it, but he removed it and gave it to Jim. Jim immediately nuzzled into it. He looked over Sebastian's chest, neck and arms, which were covered in bold black tiger stripe tattoos that Jim had made Sebastian get when they became 'official'.
"You're pretty, tiger." said Jim before closing his eyes. John immediately dimmed the lights in the room.
"So long and goodnight, kitten. I'll be here first thing in the morning." He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on Jim's lips. He tasted blood. Sickened, he strode from the room. John followed close behind.
"Have you any idea what he has?" asked Sebastian.
"Two. Under a microscope they look almost identical. But one is fatal. One isn't. Luckily, Molly, who will be examining his blood, is very good at noticing the differences between them and she's never been wrong before." Sebastian felt an uncomfortable twinge in the pit of his stomach.
"Can the fatal one be cured?"
"Sure. With lots of antibiotics and lots of hope." Sebastian felt nervous but he nodded.
"Will you stay here with him?"
"Of course." Sebastian nodded He turned away, then turned back again. He grabbed a pen from John's clipboard and jotted something down on the margin of John's notes.
"That's my phone number. Call it if something happens." and with that, Sebastian turned away again and began the twenty minute walk home. The wind was chilly against his bare torso, but the sniper did not feel the cold. He only felt the aching gnaw of worry. As soon as he entered the flat he flopped down on the couch. Sebastian wanted to remain awake all night and worry about Jim, but he fell into a deep sleep. Not even the loud noise of 'Stayin' Alive' that his phone blasted out could wake him.
The next morning, Sebastian awoke with a stiff neck. Rubbing it gingerly he checked his phone and was surprised to see and unknown number had left a voice message. He turned it on speaker as he cut some fruit for himself, with extra to bring to Jim.
"Sebastian, it's John..." Sebastian, who had just taken a bite of some melon, choked.
"I just wanted to tell you that we just took Jim out of surgery. I tried to call earlier, but you didn't hear the phone. He had hemorrhaging in his stomach; he literally could not stop vomiting blood. But he came out of surgery well and woke up from the anesthesia without problem, but then his temperature started rising. He got to a fever of thirty nine point eight, and then we stripped him and put him in an ice bath. And just as quickly it came back down. Molly, our lab worker had the late shift last night so, she was able to look at the blood sample. It's the fatal one, Sebastian. Jim has sepsis. I'm sorry. Talk to you tomorrow. Bye." Seb buried his head in his hands. He made no sound. Mechanically, he lifted his head and put Jim's fruit into a box and strode out the door into the crisp morning. He walked all the way to the hospital, the idea of a cab not even crossing his mind.
He dashed in the hospital room and was glad to see that Jim was awake and berating John.
"And if you think even for a moment that I'll let you…" Jim turned his head to Sebastian and stiffened.
"Uh, hi Seb." said Jim. He seemed too startled to give Sebastian a proper greeting.
"What's wrong, Jim?" asked Sebastian sharply. John nodded at Sebastian.
"Sepsis causes hallucinations." John answered. Jim glared at him. The pale Irishman had dark circles under his eyes.
"I have not been hallucinating." he spat tiredly. John arched an eyebrow.
"You thought that the head nurse was a giant spider." Jim looked down embarrassedly.
"He was." John gave Sebastian a wry smile.
"Jim reminds me of Sherlock sometimes. Any chance you could help me get him hooked up to the antibiotics?" Sebastian looked beseechingly at Jim.
"Just take it, Jimmy. Please?" Jim looked at Sebastian uncertainly.
"Will the needle hurt?" Sebastian shook his head.
"It's too thin to be felt, Jim." John quickly pressed the needle into Jim's arm while he mulled over what Sebastian had told him. Jim yelped and glared at Sebastian who ginned crookedly at him.
"I lied." Soon, Jim was woozy with all the medicine being pumped into his bloodstream and he fell asleep. Sebastian watched as the psychopath fell into a deep sleep. The lines on his relaxed and he looked his age for once. He looked like a young man, but Sebastian knew that looks could be deceiving. He would have loved to watch Jim sleep, but he turned back to John who had the softest of smiles on his lips.
"What?" asked Sebastian irritably, make John's smile widen.
"Nothing." Sebastian grunted. His fingers ghosted over the pack of cigarettes in his pocket.
"So have you told Sherlock?" he asked suddenly.
"Of course. I had to call him last night to let him know that I was having an all-nighter." Sebastian had the grace to look ever so slightly sheepish.
"Sorry for that. But it couldn't be helped. Is he okay with all this?"
"Originally, no. He suggested that this could be an opportunity for a test subject for some poison he's apparently been making, probably somewhere where I keep food," John took some time to look annoyed before continuing "But I refused, and promised him the extra blood in the sample I gave to Molly." Sebastian shuddered at the thought of someone as crazy as Jim with a vial of contaminated blood.
"What about his brother?"
"He's far too preoccupied with his wedding, but he no doubt knows about this." Sebastian looked surprised.
"Wedding? With whom?" The question flowed out of his mouth before he could stop it. John's lips twitched.
"With Greg Lestrade." Sebastian didn't pay attention to the answer and didn't ask anything more. He was already back on to what would be his full time job of watching over Jim. John silently slipped away. For two weeks, Sebastian fell into an unbreaking routine. He would leave the hospital at ten p.m., when visitors were prohibited and came back at eight a.m., when visitors were allowed again. He would be with Jim while he woke up and he fed Jim all his meals, sneaking a treat from home when he could manage it. He remained by Jim's side while his temperature fluctuated from a hypothermic 35 degrees Celsius to a blazing 41.1 degrees. Each time, John entered the room and either covered Jim in ice or a heated blanket. Then he left as if nothing happened. It was as though John was a phantom that appeared in the room every so often. Sebastian barely noticed his presence. The Irishman was on an I.V. because he refused to drink anything. A side effect of sepsis, John explained. And Jim got weaker and sicker. They eventually had to monitor Jim's heart beat, after it took a half hour to wake him. Sebastian swore that the moments between the little beep the monitor made grew longer and longer. On a Thursday evening, after Jim had particularly good day, John entered the room dressed not in his doctor's uniform, but casual clothing. Jim had been able to hold an entire conversation with Sebastian without falling asleep, so the sniper in an intensely good mood.
"Out for the evening, then, John?" asked Sebastian more amiably then he had in a long time.
"Yeah, there's a pub down the road a few blocks that I frequent. I wondered if you would want to join us?" John responded in his natural warmth. Sebastian thought for a moment.
"Us?" he asked uncertainly John nodded.
"Me and Greg Lestrade." Sebastian knew that name. Jim often cursed it in frustration after its owner had foiled a plan with Sherlock. Sebastian looked over at Jim. He rarely ever got to go to a real pub. Jim hated the places and Jim's possessiveness made friends an impossibility.
"I don't know, John. A doctor, a sniper, and a detective inspector walk into a pub. It's like the beginning of a bad joke." said Sebastian, already three quarters of the way convinced he was going.
"It won't be so bad, Sebastian. It's just a few guys drinking and complaining. Also it's a warm dinner that I fail to have every other day of the week. And there'll be another doctor here to look after Jim. She's probably the best doctor at Bart's." Sebastian knew that was a lie. John was the best doctor at Bart's. Not that the sniper would ever admit it. He looked back at Jim again. The criminal slept soundly. The soft noises of his breathing mingled with those of the heart beat monitor.
"Okay, John you've convinced me." said Sebastian, a smile ghosting on his lips. He threw his scuffed military jacket over his shoulders followed John out the hospital doors. The night air was cool but not unpleasant. The duo walked to the pub in a companionable silence. When they entered it, they were greeted by a stocky man with grey hair and vivacious dark eyes. He had a cigar clamped firmly between his teeth.
"John, you are not going to believe what he did this morning." said Greg in his brashly friendly manner. John gave him an amused smile. Greg's brown eyes swiveled to Sebastian.
"Hi, I'm Greg Lestrade, by the way." he said, extending his hand. "John said you might be joining us." Sebastian took his hand
"I'm Sebastian Moran." Greg gave him an affable smile.
"Good to meet you. Well, John, when I asked you to describe Sebastian, you failed to point out how huge he is. He's built like a damn brick shithouse." said Greg with a laugh. Sebastian decided to immediately like Greg. It felt good to meet someone and have a few drinks with him. Sebastian hadn't had a chance to something like this since he had returned from Afghanistan, and he thoroughly enjoyed doing so again. The trio made their way to a booth and ordered some food and ale from a passing waitress. Immediately, John and Greg began swapping stories about Sherlock and Mycroft. Each was stranger than the last and their owners seemed thoroughly annoyed, but not at all surprised. Sebastian was shocked that John and Greg were so willing to share stories about the Holmes brothers in front of him. They trusted him. Sebastian had not had any friends in quite some time and he had almost forgotten how it felt. After a dinner and a few rounds of beer, Sebastian joined them, swapping stories of Jim's madness.
"And once," said Sebastian, taking a mouthful of beer "He invited a drug lord into our flat. Jim was very polite and everything, made me put on a suit he had bought for me. Wined and dined the bloke, then he called him a few names and told me to kill him." Greg and John and watched him interestedly.
"Did you?" asked John.
"Oh, yeah. You don't exactly refuse Jim Moriarty. 'Specially not if you work for him." said Sebastian. Usually the very mention of Jim's name made people cringe in horror. But John and Greg took it all in stride.
"I suppose I better thank him, then," said Greg good naturedly "Never thought I'd have to thank a criminal for getting rid of a criminal for me."
"He kills a lot of criminals." said Sebastian indifferently "Or he has me do it. He likes to be the biggest dog on the block." Greg nodded.
"Could you imagine if he was with Scotland Yard, instead of against it?" he said, almost wistfully "I'd be given a case by Mycroft, then I'd get John to examine the body, then I'd enlist Sherlock to sniff them out, and Jim could get in their heads till they pleaded guilty. And then you could be their executioner!" Greg took a healthy swig of beer. "We would be the perfect team. I wouldn't even need people like Donavan, or Anderson." John chortled.
"I think you have been listening too closely to Sherlock. He's wanted them gone for ages!" They continued talking until it was nine thirty. John and Sebastian bid Greg goodnight.
"See you next week, Seb?" asked the detective inspector. Sebastian tensed involuntarily at the shortening of his name, then his face split in to a wide grin. It was the first true smile Sebastian had given in a long time.
"Yeah, Greg. I think you will." Greg smiled and nodded.
"Same time?" asked John. Greg gave him an affirmative. John and Sebastian walked side by side back to the hospital.
"Thanks for that." said Sebastian once they walked through the hospital doors. "That was nice." John smiled.
"I'm glad you had a good time." They reached Jim's room. The criminal was still asleep. Sebastian sat down in his usual chair beside Jim's bedside. He gave John a tired little smile and reached for Jim's hand. Jim stirred at Sebastian's touch. He blinked a few times, then fell back asleep. Sebastian wondered if he would be able to keep his new found friends once Jim recovered. But he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. Jim's health was far more important.
For the next weeks, Sebastian continued to go out with Greg and John. He enjoyed their company and their easy manners helped soothe a bit of the worry that had become a permanent resident in the back of his mind. After a while, get well cards and flowers began to appear near Jim's bedside. One of them was from Greg, another from Mycroft, and another from them both. They sent elegant, expensive-looking flowers and a bottle of Domaine Leroy Musigny Grand Cru wine. John brought nice flowers and chocolates. Even Sherlock sent a card for Jim.
One evening Sebastian sat in his usual place at Jim's bedside. Jim had fallen asleep hours ago, but Sebastian remained with him, ever the loyal watchdog. He held Jim's hand. It was cool, but not to the extent that Sebastian would call for John. He pondered his life with Jim. They were the bad guys, in almost a comical way. Sebastian was one of the good two short years ago. After Afghanistan, he had turned to drink to chase the nightmares away. If Jim wouldn't have found him, Sebastian was sure he would be dead. And he loved Jim for that. But. He missed being the good guy. The good guys always got a future. The good guys could have peace every once in a while. Sebastian wanted peace for Jim. If they hadn't been what they were, would Jim be lying here?
No. thought Sebastian bitterly. We would be at home, and he would be in my arms. Sebastian desperately wanted a family with Jim. But he couldn't put innocent children in his position. He traced his thumb in gentle circles on Jim's wrist. Then suddenly, silently, Jim's breathing ceased. The heart rate monitor flat lined and began to wail.
John was always alerted when a patient flat lined. Either by an alarm or a nurse. This time it was neither. He heard Sebastian scream. Sebastian never screamed, John knew that. Not when he was shot in Afghanistan, not ever. John ran into Jim's room to a shocking sight. The heart monitor was shrieking but Sebastian howled over the top of it. It was a deep bellow from within him. All at once it was like a roar and a whimper. A leonine keening for Jim. Sebastian seemed unable to contain himself. His mouth hung agape his eyes were wide and his pupils, small. His face was twisted into something beyond grief, beyond agony, beyond anything John had ever witnessed. Nurses charged into the room and shut off the monitor's noise, the only sound was Sebastian. Tears rushed down his cheeks and his back arched. He fell silent and in his tight tee-shirt, John could count the vertebrae in Sebastian's spine. A nurse handed John a defibrillator and John open Jim's gown. Sebastian looked up a gasped like a drowning man. John wrapped an arm around Sebastian's broad shoulders for a fraction of a second before putting the defibrillator on the highest setting that was used for a man of Jim's size and he pressed it on Jim's chest. Jim's body jumped with the electricity and John waited. After a few seconds nothing happened and John did it again. Sebastian watched him with rapt attention, tears still streaming down his face and his whole massive body trembling. After the seventh attempt a nurse put a hand on John's shoulder.
"You should call it Doctor Watson, he's gone, you did the best you could." John glanced over at Sebastian. The sniper still quaked and he still cried. His blue eyes were red.
"I'll give it one more go." John told her with finality. He ranked the settings up to the highest level possible. Then he pressed it hard down on Jim's chest. Jim's body arched off the bed before John removed it. Then they waited with baited breath. For one second, two, three before:
Beep. The monitor gave a soft noise. Then another, and another, and another. Jim took a great shuddering breath. His eyelids fluttered.
"Sebby?" he croaked, barely audible. Sebastian carefully climbed on the bed and pulled Jim to lie on his chest. The bed groaned under the combined weight, but stood strong. Sebastian began murmuring Jim's name over and over. He kissed Jim's head, then his ear, then his jawbone, then the back of his neck, any place he could reach. Jim's giggled or, as much as he could. It was like a breathy whisper, a secret shared between only him and his sniper. John did not ask Sebastian to leave the hospital that night, nor did anyone else.
The next morning, when John came in for Jim's check-up, he was met by Sebastian.
"Thank you." he said simply "For my Jim's life." John blushed.
"It was really nothing." he said
"No." Sebastian growled, "No, that was something. You saved the life of you enemy. You saved my love. That's something. And Jim will never hurt you, or Sherlock, or Greg, or Mycroft. I will repay you, John Watson. I am eternally in you debt. He turned to sit on the edge of Jim's bed and John ran diagnostics on the criminal.
"He is doing incredibly well." said John Sebastian looked up from stroking Jim's hair. The Irishman was smiling and blinking up at him. Sebastian had a goofy grin on his face.
"Next time we go to the pub, get whatever you want. My treat." Sebastian said. John smiled a little awkwardly.
"Well, I'll just…" just as he turned to leave, John swore he heard a silky Irish voice say:
"Thank you."
Two weeks later, Jim was released from the hospital. The very same Thursday, he joined Sebastian at the pub. Greg brought Mycroft and John brought Sherlock. Jim sat in a corner of a booth. He looked small and pale compared to the sniper beside him. He did regain his animalistic gleam about him though. Sherlock sat across from Jim. After a few rude comments were passed between them, they warmed to each other considerably, and began discussing an experiment Sherlock was attempting to do. John looked mildly annoyed at the mention of it, but he said nothing. Mycroft roped an unwilling Sebastian into discussing wedding cakes that he and Greg had been tasting. But dinner was a pleasant affair. Sebastian, for the life of him, could not understand how Jim targeted these people. They were the best Sebastian ever had the fortune to meet.
"Hey Greg?" said Sebastian. They were waiting for cabs, and Jim was having a shouting match with Sherlock about the most inhumane way to poison a duck.
"Yeah?" Greg turned to him.
"Remember how you talked about me and Jim being on Scotland Yard?" Greg cocked his head slightly.
"Yeah, what of it?"
"Was that an offer?" Sebastian felt nervous. Greg grinned.
"I wouldn't be displeased if a sniper and a psychopath appeared on my doorstep." At that moment, his and Mycroft's cab appeared.
"Thanks." Sebastian smiled hesitantly
"No problem." said Greg, as he stepped into the cab and received a kiss from Mycroft.
Later that same evening, Sebastian lay awake in bed with Jim tucked safely under his arm. Jim, although still weak, managed to kiss Sebastian senseless as a thank you. They had remained awake for awhile, and Jim, in a moment of weakness, told Sebastian that he had been worried the sniper would leave him. Sebastian swore he wouldn't dream of it, but the Irishman seemed unconvinced. It was time.
"Jimmy? Are you awake?" said Sebastian suddenly.
"I am now." said Jim dryly "What is it?"
"I love kids." said Sebastian, almost musingly.
"You woke me up for that?"
"I absolutely love kids. I want kids." continued Sebastian, as if he hadn't heard Jim.
"You want…?" asked Jim
"Kids. Yes." said Sebastian firmly. "Do you know who gets to have kids?"
"Um, parents?" said Jim uncertainly.
"Good guys." responded Sebastian "Angels, whatever you want to call it."
"Seb…" began Jim
"Good guys get everything. I know. I used to be one." Sebastian got more and more agitated.
"What…?" Jim seemed startled. Sebastian jangled the military tags around his neck.
"I am Colonel Sebastian Moran, and I can't have children."
"Well, you have a male partner…" began Jim
"Because I am not a good guy." said Sebastian as though Jim had never spoken. "I cannot bring a child into my dangerous life."
"Seb?" Jim seemed slightly nervous.
"I talked to Greg. He wants us to join his team in Scotland Yard."
"You know who I am, tiger." said Jim flatly.
"I do." responded Sebastian excitedly. "He wants us to go to a crime scene tomorrow. He wants Sherlock to find the killer. Then he wants you to torture the guy in the way only you can." That shut Jim up.
"Are you sure?" he asked slowly
"One hundred percent. Are you in?" asked Sebastian.
"What do you think, idiot?"
"One more thing, Jim." said Sebastian with a grin. He got out of bed and turned on the light. Jim blinked at the sudden brightness.
"Good guys get children." said Sebastian "And we're gonna be good guys." He knelt. The bold black tiger stripes that wrapped around his muscular body seemed sharper in the yellow light. Sebastian unhooked the chain he always wore around his neck and slid something off it.
"I got this after you died and came back." said Sebastian. He held it out and Jim saw it was a simple silver ring set with a single ruby.
"What…?" Jim started, but Sebastian cut him off.
"James Moriarty, my kitten, my boss, my love. I could not think of anyone else I'd want to spend the rest of my life with. I want to have kids with you. Jim, will you do me the honour of becoming my husband?"
"I expect you need an answer to that, you idiot. Yes. Yes." Jim said, not even attempting to hold the tears back. Sebastian kissed him and slid the ring on to his finger. Sebastian turned off the light, then slid back under the covers. Jim snuggled back under his arm.
"Jim?"
"Yeah?"
"I want John Watson to be my best man."
"Okay. Do I get a best man?"
"Yeah."
"I want Sherlock Holmes."
"I love you."
"I love you too. Goodnight, Sebby."
"Goodnight Jim."
Hello, lovely readers! I am not Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss, nor am I Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I cannot claim any right to the characters, just the plot to this story. Please oh please review!
Cheers.