Title: Nightmare

Warnings: Language

Pairing: MorMor

Summary: Seb deals with an unstable Jim. It's not all that easy.

The scream, the biting cold blade to his throat and his own hand coming up to seize the offender's wrist was all one swift movement; his brain switched into survival mode and jarred him from sleep. It wasn't much effort to wrestle the arm away from him and twist it behind its owner's back before prying the knife free.

"Jesus Christ, Jim, you'll slit my fucking throat one day!"

Seb was used to all this. He bore the scars to prove it. It happened now and then, more often than not if Jim 'forgot' to take his meds.

A poor attempt at moonlight filtered in through the thick curtains, casting limp shadows, and the silence of night had fallen again except for the heavy breaths of the two men.

Jim's voice was a quake, a shamed and confused murmur on his lips, and he didn't even fight against Sebastian's grip on his arm.

"You were… something else,"

Sebastian sniffed, panting and faintly sweating, unable to keep the anger out of his voice as he carded his free hand through his hair, because, damn it, he didn't feel like it tonight.

"Yeah, I will be something else if you keep this up; I'll be a corpse to dispose of!"

"You… I saw…"

"And these fucking knives!" Moran brandished it slightly with every word, "Where are you getting these from? Every single time I think I've locked everything away from you, you findsomething!"

He growled, slipped his hand under his vest to remove the key around his neck, went into the bathroom, unlocked the cabinet and began riffling through; empty bottles and boxes tumbled down into the sink as he went.

All the while Jim remained hunched on the bed, on his knees, just staring at the wall with eyes wide and vacant, face expressionless.

Sebastian was back within minutes, a glass of water in one hand and a rather ominous looking pill in the palm of the other. He squared his jaw and shoulders, about to launch into another tirade when he finally took in the look on Jim's face and cursed himself.

This wasn't the way to behave, and he knew it. Shouting at Jim when he was… unhinged… only made things worse, but it was so hard, so damn hard when one minute you were dealing with a perfectly fine murderer and the next you were handling one with the mind of a terrified child.

He sighed and came to put the glass of water on the bedside table.

"Jim…"

"You were a monster." It was said so matter-of-factly. So blunt. He didn't even blink.

"No," Seb more or less succeeded in keeping the frustration out of his voice, "No. The monsters are in here-" he reached out and touched a fingertip to Jim's temple, and the man himself seemed to wake up somewhat at the slight touch, turning to look into Sebastian's eyes bewilderedly, hands drawn into his lap.

"And we take our medicine to make them go away, don't we?" Seb reached for the glass.

"No,"

"Yes we do," He grabbed Jim's jaw with his free hand as he tried to move away, pried his mouth open to which he gave a small whine, and pressed the pill onto his tongue.

"Mmth-!"

"No, come on, Jim, for me… water… That's it…"

Jim held both the water and the pill in his mouth, keeping it clamped shut, and Seb took all the care in the world not to yell or get it spat at him. It wouldn't have been the first time.

He ran a hand through Jim's hair, slid it down to his throat and made him tip his head back gently.

"Come on. For me…"

Jim shook his head.

"Please." God he was so damn tired.

He stroked his fingertips up and down Jim's neck, cupped his jaw. It would have been a lie to say he wasn't tempted to shove his head back, pinch his nose together and say 'don't piss me off'.

'Normal' Jim he could deal with. The contrast was so sharp between the two that it was difficult to grasp. It was confusing to sometimes have to mollycoddle a man capable of deeds so despicable he was London's Most Dangerous Man.

If he took his medicine tonight, he'd be normal Jim again by tomorrow; it would all be over until the next time he 'forgot'. No more monsters, no more hallucinations, no more locking up the cupboards, no more fruitless hiding of excessive weaponry and carting all the keys around his neck, no more having to text him every five seconds in the middle of assignments to make sure he hadn't done anything stupid…

Jim swallowed.

Seb let go of his jaw.

"Cheers…"

He took away the glass, came back to find Jim bundled into the duvet, and climbed into the bed.

"Give us that here…" He unravelled the small man to let the duvet cover the both of them.

Sighing, he settled on his back, Jim curled against him, and stared at the flickers of moonlight on the ceiling. Despite it all, all the hidden things that no one else got to see or hear about, he'd never leave Jim. Jim would have to leave first.

And as it turns out, he did.