Sebastian felt himself slapped back into consciousness. He was covered in blood and his whole body hurt from everything he had been through. The torture had been pretty intense. Had he been on the other side of it he would've been proud of it. It was almost enough to break the toughest of men. Almost, not quite. He wasn't broken, not yet. No, he was still keeping it together. He had to, he couldn't let Jim down. He had to get back to his boss, he had to let him know why he had disappeared. He-
Sebastian's thoughts were cut off by the voice of one of his captures. He had a harsh and threatening voice. He was rather predictable and stereotypical as a bad guy. Sebastian got bored with stereotypical bad guys because of how different and one of a kind Jim was. That was of course part of the reason he loved Jim, because he was so different. He was so himself, there would never be anyone else like him. The man's words though, what were they? Sebastian's head was thumping and spinning. He struggled to hear and register the words. They just seemed like noise, but eventually, slowly they got through to him and started to form a sentence.
"Sebastian Moran," he got that much, that was his name. Right, that was something, that made sense, now the rest. He knew he must've been started at his attacker blankly, but the other would have to wait. He would have to understand that after being beaten senseless you would be somewhat… well, senseless. The rest started to register though, "We're here on request of Jim Moriarty."
Jim. Jim. That was good. Jim. Was he coming? Was he going to help? Wait… Request? Jim order this? Sebastian struggled to believe that, he thought Jim liked him. He had always been Jim's favourite, he was his second in command, his best worker, and most loyal. The one Jim classed as a personal pet. Sebastian had hated being seen as a pet, but from Jim it was almost a compliment. Jim had ordered this? Still, Jim was so changeable after all. He would the master of liars and cheats. It could've been an act after all.
Sebastian stayed quiet. He wasn't going to let them know that he believed them or not. He wasn't going to claim it to be false because he knew it was more than likely true. It was exactly the sort of thing Jim would order. Jim would never get his own hands dirty, even though he knew Sebastian would never hit back at him. Sebastian was always the first to hit back, but after Jim had confided in him about the abuse in his past from his father, Sebastian could never hit him again. Sebastian knew he was the only one Jim trusted, he couldn't give him cause not to. But now Sebastian wondered if all of that had been a lie, a trick to lure him in. Sebastian was the best worker, but has he been stupid for believing in Jim? He was believing now that he had been.
"Under his orders we are to, and I quote 'Kill him, but not before he begs for death'." The torturer seemed t enjor telling Sebastian. Well of course he was enjoying it, every time Sebastian had been on the other side, he had enjoyed it. Torture gave him a power he enjoyed so very much. Being on the other side gave him a feeling of weakness that he hated just as much. He needed to get out. He didn't know how.
"I never will," Sebastian finally spoke. It was three simple words. He had forced his voice to be neutral, not to portray any emotion or any pain. His whole body was screaming in pain though. He was sure he was still bleeding in many places. How long had he been here? He wasn't sure, a few days at the very least. He had been striped so that he was only in his underwear. He didn't care about being expose, he cared that it meant they were able to get to practically every inch of his skin and cut or bruise it. He had been drugged, that was the only reason he had been weak enough to get captured. Drugged. Maybe Jim did have something to do with it. Of course he did, he was stupid thinking otherwise. Jim was a murderer, he arranged this sort of thing all the time. Sebastian should've expected it.
"Then this will just continue," he was told. Suddenly a video phone was held up in front of his face. "Now, Sebby, I think you should say something to your boss. Why don't you tell him how you feel about his betrayal to his loyal little lap dog."
A red light flashed on the phone, showing that he was starting to record but Sebastian stayed quiet. He didn't say a word. He had nothing to say. Jim liked to hear the pleads and desperation from his victims. He liked to hear everything, he liked to know the level of pain they were going through. He liked to hear the apologies, he liked the laugh at the way they pleaded for it to stop. No. He wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction. The second torturer – Sebastian momentarily wondered about their names, maybe they had told him, he couldn't remember, he didn't really care – moved closer and slapped him around the back of the head. Normally it wouldn't have hurt, but because of everything else it stung, it caused his head to jolt forward, pulling on his neck. Everything blurred and swam in front of him at the sudden movement, and he yelped in pain. That amused them causing them to laugh at him.
"Come on, tiger, say something," the one holding the camera said.
Sebastian looked up. He was looking directly at the camera but he was addressing the cameramen. "You better hope you kill me because otherwise what I do to you is going to make this look like child's play." He spoke slowly because it was the only way he was able to make his words clear, make the threat clear and serious. His vision was off, but he remained glaring at them.
"Adorable," he said, lowering the camera. "You really are adorable. It's not what he wanted, but I guess I'll send that to Moriarty."
Sebastian was left for a while after that. He slipped in and out of consciousness for a while. He couldn't concentrate on anything except the pain. He stopped caring that this had come from Jim because it heard too much to think about it, it hurt too much to think about anything. When the unconsciousness took over, he let it because it was easier that way. It was an hour, maybe two, maybe more, maybe less – Sebastian had no way of telling the time – when he was forced awake by the noise around him.
He wasn't really aware of what was going on. There was a lot of shouting, the voices of the torturers and another one. A voice he knew well, he struggled to place it, when it suddenly hit him. Jim Moriarty. What now? Had the bastard decided he wanted to kill his most loyal pet himself? Sebastian couldn't concentrate enough to understand what they were shouting about. He only taught odd words, "mistake," "mine," "dead." He didn't bother trying to make sense of what Jim meant, he was certain he already knew what it meant. Jim was going to kill him. He felt almost honoured by that thought. Jim Moriarty was going to dirty his own hands for him. Sebastian smiled slightly. If he had to die, at least it was a decent death.
There were a couple of shots and then a deathly silence. Who had shot who and why? Sebastian couldn't understand that, but then this was Jim. Nothing really made sense regarding Jim unless you were in Jim's head. The small man entered the room only a moment later and rushed over to Sebastian.
"My god, Sebastian, what the hell have they done to you?" he asked. Sebastian kept himself quiet, this was probably a part of some test. He had had enough of Jim's games now, he wasn't going to play along anymore. Jim stroked his cheek, the touch was gentle. Sebastian tensed at it. It hurt because of the pain he was in, but it was nice because it was so gentle. He didn't believe it though. He knew Jim too well to fall for this. "Hey, tiger, it's me. It's Jim. I'm going to get you out of here."
"Here is a good a place to die," he told him weakly. He didn't have the strength not to let himself sound weak anymore. He was weak, he was tired. Perhaps weak and tired enough to beg for death if Jim wanted him to. He wanted it to be over quickly now. He wanted it to be done.
"Don't be stupid, you moron, you're not going to die," Jim told him. He undid the bonds keeping Sebastian on the chair.
Sebastian thought about hitting him, of trying to escape but the very thought of even having to support himself to stand was horrific. Everything hurt, he was certain he didn't have the strength. He didn't move. Jim said he wasn't going to die. Jim said he was going to get him out of here. Sebastian wanted to believe it, he wanted to go home and lie in bed and just relax until everything stopped hurting, but how could he believe it when Jim had organised this.
"All right, Sebby, listen to me," Jim took Sebastian's face, gently, making him look at him. "I have men outside. They're going to help you get to my car because I'm not strong enough. I'm taking you back to mine. I'm going to get you strong again."
"Don't bother lying," Sebastian told him, bitterly. He hated that Jim was still trying to play games with him, still trying to lure him in.
"What do you mean?" Jim asked. He looked genuinely confused. He was that good an actor.
Sebastian took a couple of deep breaths before he was able to speak again, this was so tiring, so painful. "I know you did this." He said.
Jim looked horrified. "You're fucking kidding, right?" looking at Sebastian he knew he wasn't. "You're such a fucking idiot," he glared at him, "You're just like everyone else. I thought you were different. Fuck you, Sebastian. What reason would I have to kill you?"
Sebastian tried to shrug but ended up wincing.
Jim sighed. "We're not discussing this now," he told him, anger and disappointment clear in his voice.
It didn't take long for Jim's men to help Sebastian to the car. He didn't have the strength to fight them and he didn't bother trying to. He let unconsciousness take him again when he was in the car. He wasn't bothering to fight anything anymore. He was too tired. Hours must have past though. He dozed on and off, not really aware of where he was or what was going on.
When he woke properly, he was lying in the middle of a double bed. His head was still spinning, but reaching up to rub his eyes, he realised he had been cleaned up. The blood was gone. He pulled the cover that was over him off and realised he had been bandaged up, he had been put in clothes. He was aching somewhat, but it was less than it had been. He was confused. Who would help him?
He made himself think back over everything. He had been in and out of consciousness. Jim. Jim's men. Taken him, put him in bed, let him sleep, tidied him up. Didn't prisoners of war get fixed so they were at their strongest when killed? Sebastian didn't let himself relax, he didn't let himself believe that this meant things were ok.
Jim came in, walking over to him, before starting as he realised Sebastian was awake. "Seb," he said. "How you feeling, tiger?"
Sebastian didn't answer, didn't even look at him.
"You still believe I ordered this?" Jim asked. There was sadness in his voice. Sebastian couldn't help but look at him. He had believed it. He had to, he didn't want to fall into a trap of Jim's. But this was Jim, the man who had shook in his arms through fear of his past.
Sebastian shook his head. He looked away again, ashamed. He felt like he had betray Jim for believing it. "Sorry," he murmured.
Jim sat down on the edge of the bed and Sebastian struggled to sit up. "Let me tell you what happened," Jim said, softly. He turned, sitting cross-legged on the bed, looking at the other. "Four days ago you disappeared, you went completely off the radar. I was worried, Sebby, you've never done that before. And I've never been worried about someone before. I had men looking all over for you. I had no idea where to even begin.
"But then they sent that video of you, I felt sick, Sebastian, seeing how hurt you were. That was their mistake then. It meant I was able to find them. Did you hear anything before I found you? I killed them, I told them no one had to right to touch you, you're mine."
Sebastian stayed quiet, but he opened his arms. Jim moved over and wrapped his arms around him, gently, trying not to hurt him. "I would never hurt you," Jim said. "Not like that. Sebastian, you fucking idiot, I love you."
Sebastian kept hold of him, as tight as he could in his weak state. "I love you, too, boss, I'm so sorry."