Jim sighed through his nose. He tightened his grip on the sheets wrapped around his frame and winced at the dull prods of soreness that went through his muscles. Exhaustion flooded through him. Tomorrow I've got a meeting with a client, or six, and the Ice Man is bothering me again, so I've got to drop some misleading hints and then Sebastian is going to kill that American for me and then I've got to organize the South American jewelry thing and oh God I will never be able to sleep again, I want to sleep and I can't, I never can, my mind is going to gnaw itself into unconsciousness, why can't I sleep, I bet Sherlock can't sleep either, I hate him, I want him, everything hurts...
Letting his body and mind be worked into complete oblivion was the only way for Jim Moriarty to sleep. There were few things he wanted more than the ability to go out like a light.
Lifting his head off the pillow, Jim tried to pop his neck. The sheets wrapped around him suddenly seemed very restricting, and he kicked and thrashed until they were loose.
Why can't my mind turn off? He stared at the ceiling miserably as his chest tightened. There was no threat of tears, but suicidal thoughts weren't out of the question...If I take a lot of pills, will Seb come over? What if I call him and say I've just taken a lot of pills?
A quiet voice came from nowhere. "Do stop being dramatic." Jim tensed and scanned as much of the room as he could see from his position. "You won't be able to see me just yet, Mr. James Moriarty. To answer the surely inevitable question, yes, I am talking inside your head. It isn't a dream, hallucination or drug, either."
Jim sat up, staring blankly at the light from the window. "And there was me thinking the night was going to be terribly boring," he said, his voice croaky.
The voice, which Jim was sure belonged to someone English-but not the right kind, he speaks imperiously and poetically. Royalty? Maybe...but what kind?--said, "And you can't stand that, can you? Your mind will rip itself to shreds for lack of something else to tear apart."
"If we're going to do the lovely pick-apart-each-other's-weaknesses game, I'd like to see you."
"How are you sure I'm not just a voice in your head, boy?"
Jim sighed and rolled his eyes. "You told me, Your Majesty."
The voice paused. "I did, didn't I?"
"So you are royalty. Interesting. Not my kind, though. You're different. You're special. And you're talking to little old me. You must want something, don't you?"
"Consulting criminal, you call yourself. I first assumed you were nothing but a lot of talk, a clear mistake." The voice paused again. "I've watched you, I know what you look like, how you act, and all those wonderful little quirks you pile on to disguise the monster within. I will see it for myself. This won't hurt a bit." Jim heard the smirk in the voice and felt the mind pull out of his own, a thoroughly unpleasant sensation.
A greenish-gold glow suddenly appeared a meter or so away, gradually taking the shape of a tall man sitting cross-legged on the bed across from Jim. Jim looked him up and down, gathering the information he needed to learn the man's story. "A god, then? Like that S.H.I.E.L.D project." He put a finger to his mouth. "Huh. That's actually quite good. I like it, definitely didn't see that coming."
The man on his bed tilted his head. "It doesn't alarm you, James? I am a different being. I am not of your pathetic world. It is normal of all humans to dislike that which they cannot explain, is it not?"
"Come on, don't be an idiot. You and I both know I'm a 'different being,' as well. I'm not mentally sound, as a lawyer would put it. I'm insane! I know it's true; Sherlock told me so." Jim flicked his hands and examined the man more closely. His long, black hair was slicked behind his ears, his suit was actually quite posh, and (most interestingly) the cane in his hand wasn't what he wanted Jim to think it was. Jim frowned, focusing on it.
The sleek form of the cane flickered. For just a moment, it was a gold spear with a jewel in the end, and an aura of power simply radiating from it. Jim licked his lips unintentionally. Looking back up, he saw the man's eyes widen as he said, "You can see it. How can you see it? The disguise should fool any mortal mind..."
"Didn't I just tell you, Your Worshipfulness? Try to pay attention. I'm. Not. Healthy. My mind isn't well. You're using your magical powers to disguise your weapon from the ordinary people. I am definitely not ordinary." Jim grinned devilishly. "Or you're just losing your touch." The man's eyes darkened.
The cane/spear flashed and the next thing he knew, Jim was bent over backwards with the point of the spear digging into his neck. He giggled, "No, no, no! You want me for something, remember? If that lovely trinket does what I think it does, how d'you know it won't break my mind even more? Can you take that chance?" Jim felt the pressure recede. "Oops, guess not!"
"You speak fast, James. Careful that your sharp tongue does not cut you."
"Oh, now that's no fun, is it?" Jim sat up and leaned forward, putting his hands on the stranger's knees and nearly touching the man's nose with his own. "And please, call me Jim." The man let no reaction show. "I don't even know your name, and I'm running out of funny ways to say Your Highness."
"Loki Silvertongue, prince of Asgard, and soon-to-be ruler of this realm."
"Bit ambitious, aren't you, Loki? Silvertongue...sounds fun, especially here," Jim said, flicking his eyes towards the sheets.
Loki raised an eyebrow. "If that was meant to be a...what's the human phrase? Ah yes, a 'come-on,' it was a particularly poor one."
"Well, if you're going to be mean, I won't play with you."
"It's not a matter of what you want, it's simply that I've chosen you."
"I bet you say that to all the boys."
"I wouldn't know. You're the only mortal that's different than the others. Even my thuggish brother would agree with that." Loki smiled, showing a frankly alarming amount of teeth. "So 'tis now, James Moriarty, that I must give you a rather ungraceful ultimatum. Will you work by my side and run the risk of death, torture, and humiliation from me? Or will you continue to play your games with people, normal people, ordinary people? Even Sherlock Holmes could barely hold his own against you. And your mind..." Loki raised a hand and pressed a finger to Moriarty's temple. Jim grinned. "It spirals out of control, races away in the agony of tedium and then forces you to do ridiculous things. You cut, you burn, you swallow medicine, you bed your right-hand man, but nothing helps, does it? You can burrow into people's lives, and then turn them inside out before you gut them mercilessly. Do you have any idea how useful you'd be as a backup plan if I should fail? And if I do fail..." Loki smiled.
Jim did too, as the pieces fit together. "I would be left to deal with and dominate whatever you and your friends left behind." He removed his hands from the god and reclined against the headboard. "Oh dear, I've found a problem already," he sighed. "You're far too confident, my dear. For all this talk of ruling the world with me by your side, you don't see something very, very spotty about it."
Loki paused for a moment. "You believe that you can cause my defeat? That you, with so limited knowledge of what there is to be found, can overcome a god with nothing but words?"
"I'll let you in on a secret. I do. I'm overly confident, too!" Jim said, smiling charmingly. He suddenly sat up, all traces of brevity gone. "And there's something you should know, Loki Silvertongue. I don't like being a sub." The god's brow creased. "Earth talk for the submissive one in a relationship, love. Sure, being a sub is nice for a while, but then something happens. Something not very nice at all. It always does. You should know? I don't stay a sub for long."
Loki raised his chin imperiously. "I have no doubt I can beat you, son of Ireland."
Jim smiled slowly. "You know what's odd? Neither do I. I may be insane but you've got the powers and the magic and the whole godliness part. But there's one thing I can guarantee, gorgeous. I won't let you take me over. That'll never happen; I'll make sure of that. Believe me, because, as a man once put it, I'm prepared to do anything."
Loki smiled. "Tell me, Jim." He cocked his head. "How do you feel about New York?"