Warning:This will probably upset you. Don't read it, if you have any triggers.
"I'm fine, Harry. I promise," John lied.
Over the phone, his sister said something he did not hear. The door banged open against the wall and he quickly hung up.
"Oi! Whore! Where are you?" Sebastian roared drunkenly, stumbling into the flat.
John walked slowly into the sitting room, already curling around himself protectively.
"I'm right here, love…" he said as happily he could make himself sound.
Sebastian snarled at John, "What the fuck have you done to my house, you worthless piece of shit?"
"I try- I tried to clean. I'm sorry- ,"
Sebastian backhanded John. It was sooner than it usually was, so John stumbled backwards into the wall.
Sebastian stalked towards John, pulling him off the floor by his neck, restricting air flow.
"You're a worthless fag," he spat into John's face.
"I'm sorry, Seb…" he choked out.
John was shoved back onto the floor and immediately curled up to protect himself for the kick that was aimed at his ribs.
Sebastian pushed John onto his front with his foot.
"Lie flat," Sebastian stomped down on John's back, pushing him into the floor. John's spine and ribs cracked in protest.
John cried out in pain, a cry that was only met with a kick to the jaw.
Sebastian knelt down on John's legs; John stifled a shout of pain.
John saw blackness for a moment, a moment in which he hoped that it would stay.
It didn't hurt there.
John head was smashed into the hardwood floor again as his clothing was torn from his body.
He knew better than to fight back.
He closed his eyes, tears streaming from his the slits. He bit through his lip as he was violated in the worst ways by a man he thought he loved.
Three years.
In Britain. In Afghanistan.
Sebastian was always there.
Sebastian Moran was found guilty of war crimes.
Sebastian Moran was found guilty of paedophilia.
Sebastian Moran was found guilty of murder.
John did not go to the trial.
He did not go to the prison to visit.
He got shot by a sniper while treating a wound.
You don't shoot the doctors.
"Please god, let me live!"
Harry picked him up at the airport. She brought a cane and a mobile phone.
She paid for the cab to take him to his new flat.
Day 1: He sat in his room.
Day 2: He looked out the window.
He did not eat. There was hardly reason.
Day 3: He hated himself.
Day 4: He went outside.
He went outside and was stopped on the street. He got coffee with Mike Stamford.
He met Sherlock Holmes.
Day 5: He… started living?
It was like the last three years had never happened.
John was happy.
He started dating women.
He became defensively heterosexual.
He can't do it. Not again.
"… You being all mysterious with your - cheekbones. And turning your coat collar up so you look cool…"
Another year
"It's what people do, isn't it? Leave a note…?"
Sherlock Holmes: suicide victim
Year 1: Nothing
Year 2: Chad and Congo
Year 3: Mary
Sherlock comes back.
Mary is murdered.
Jim Moriarty and Sebastian Moran
Sherlock does not notice when John freezes at the name. The resurrected detective assumes it's a reaction to the spider.
John runs away.
Sherlock finds him.
John explains.
Sherlock learns to understand human emotions.
But he forgets.
"Sebastian," John whimpers, pulling on the ropes that bound him to the chair.
HE closes his eyes, his past coming back to haunt him.
Again.
Again.
"I'm sorry, Seb…"
Again.
Months.
A year.
John is rescued.
John is not John, Sherlock knows.
Years.
Years.
Years.
A bullet to the temple.