Chapter 2
When Sherlock woke, it took him a few moments until he realized what had happened. He only remembered walking out of the retirement home, then suddenly pain and -
A needle.
He had been injected with something and had been held down.
And then when he was weak enough, he had been thrown into the back of a van. He had used his last energy to activate the tracker located in his left arm. Said tracker had been a surprisingly good idea from Mycroft for once. He had put his arms around himself, looking as if he wanted to protect himself and had taken the small chip between the thumb and the ring finger of his right hand. It was located directly under the skin, so it wasn´t hard to find, but it would only transmit anything with activation. Pressing it three times had activated it, he was sure.
But now due to the pain in his left upper arm he was sure they had found it. Drowsily he opened his eyes and looked left. His arm was bloody, so the kidnappers had taken it out.
Damn it.
But maybe it had been in long enough?
Probably not because neither Mycroft nor his men were anywhere in sight.
"Ah Sherlock. Wakey wakey!" Sherlock actually fought with himself not to puke at the sound of the voice, which was probably also due to the medication that he had been given.
Moran.
Of course.
"What do you want?" he drawled out, voice still unsteady and tried to sit up which only worked at the second attempt. Damn barbiturates.
"Oh, what do I want? Hmm." Sebastian Moran was pacing around the room, an abandoned factory from the looks of it, like a boy who couldn´t wait to play with his toy. "What do I want? Oh you´ll see soon enough."
The former soldier seemed to be incredibly impatient, but it took a while until Sherlock could actually get on his feet. Sherlock had used the minutes to look around a bit. From the looks of it they were in an old abandoned factory, close to the Thames. Sherlock felt himself reminded of the time he was undercover when the whole world thought he was dead after the fall from Barts and suddenly Sally had been placed in front of him. It had been inconvenient, because he had been afraid that she would reveal him, but a small part of him had been glad to see her even then. She had been the only connection to his old life, unless you counted Mycroft. Which he hadn´t.
But now the situation was even more dire. Back then he had been the kidnapper not the prisoner. And he hadn´t been drugged, damn it, which proved to be far the bigger problem right now.
Still dizzy, he was placed on his feet and led through a dark hallway into another room. His hands were bound by cuffs in front of him and while Moran led him by his arms, two men followed them, making sure he would actually walk.
While it was actually hard enough to stay on his feet at this time, Sherlock tried to tell himself that he could get out of this. No matter what tortures Moran had planned for him, he would withstand them and would find a way out.
He just had to. Especially now that he had finally found John and was starting to build an actual relationship with him.
His hopes were crushed though, as he entered the room and saw what, or better who, was waiting for him there.
It was Sally.
His friend was lying on her back, bound onto a table, completely naked and shivering like a leaf. She seemed dizzy as well and due to the eight iron-cuffs which bound her legs and arms twice each in strategic places, she couldn´t even move a centimetre.
Sherlock didn´t even need to ask what Moran had planned for him.
Or for them.
The bastard knew. Probably had even read the damn files describing his and Sally´s abuse by the same russian agent- two children who couldn´t be more different and yet suffered a similar fate just because they ran into that monster Sergej.
Knew about his father´s death in front of his eyes, hell maybe he even knew what they had done last year and that they had Sergej in custody now.
Moran probably had laughed reading it, all amused, probably gloating at such news, and Sherlock felt sick.
It was then when his legs gave in and he found himself down on the floor, with an irate Moran in front of him.
"Oh we are getting weak already?" he spat, hauling Sherlock up quickly again, which nearly caused the consulting detective to fall over once more. "That´s not an option, Holmes."
Sherlock just huffed. You shouldn't have drugged me then, he thought, but didn´t say anything. Instead his gaze found Sally once more. Why did she have to go and try to save him a few weeks ago? Stubborn, dumb women. She would have been safe, damn it.
Safe.
Moran seemed to have followed his gaze and started to laugh. "You are going to fuck her, you know? Show her what it means to be associated with you. "
Even though Sherlock had already guessed what was coming he found himself feeling violently sick once more. Shaking his head slightly he was somehow proud to bring out a non shaky "No.", even though it wasn´t that loud.
"No?" Moran laughed harder. "Oh come on that shouldn´t be news to you. Everybody gets used by you, one way or another, don´t they? Normally people notice rather quickly and make sure they get far away from you as soon as possible. But some..." He pushed Sherlock closer to Sally so that there were only a few meters between them now. "...well, some never learn, do they?"
With that Sebastian smiled at Sally, who was watching them now, fear evident in her eyes, yet still strong. She had even forced herself to stop shaking, which made Sherlock a little proud somehow. Donovan had always been strong, even back when they had disliked each other. She also had been one of the few to question him. It had made him respect her somewhat even then, although he wouldn´t have admitted it.
"So?" Moran teased him, but not loud enough for Sally to hear. "Give her a nice big, hard fuck and we can get her out of here. What do you think?"
Again a shake of his head. Then: "I´m not going to hurt her." Nice and clear. Loud enough for Sally to hear as well, even though he wasn´t sure how much she noticed due to the drugs.
Moran though didn´t seem to be amused by this. "Okay. Then we will make sure you will do so anyway." He nodded at the two men behind them which now had been joined by two more, which were guarding the door. They took a hold of Sherlock immediately. After that Moran produced a big knife from a bag in a corner next to the door and walked up to Sally. At that point Sherlock realised that she was at least aware enough about what was happening that she tried to get away from Moran, but utterly failed due to the metal bindings.
Sherlock himself was trying to kick the two men off him, with out much success. It made him rather dizzy, which he couldn´t care less about, as he saw how Moran put the knife down at Sally´s right arm and started to cut from wrist towards the elbow. It was a long, deep cut and Sally made an inhuman noise as blood welled up immediately.
Moran though seemed to enjoy himself. While Sherlock was trying to use the last reserves to get the men off him, he looked at Sally who was silently crying now, trying to breathe hard through the pain. Then his hand went towards the wounded arm and all Sherlock could yell was "Leave her alone you bastard." before Moran placed his fingers into the wound.
Sally let out another cry as he took hold of one of her tendons, which could be seen in the deep, still heavily bleeding wound. "So Sherlock? Still uninterested?" he teased and then took the knife and cut the tendon. Sally was screaming loudly now and Sherlock let out an undignified noise as well, barely able to choke back his tears and the bile in his throat.
Taking a deep breath he forced himself to calm down. This was helping neither him nor Sally. He needed to focus. He was still free on his feet, so he had more of a chance of getting them out of there than Sally, he supposed.
He needed to make use of this. But how?
Moran was watching him once more. "You know, I won´t kill her. I promise. But that doesn´t mean I won't harm her. I´m just showing her what it means to be your friend." He told him and turned to Sally, slowly stroking through her hair with his bloody hands which led Sally to try to turn her head away. She didn´t have much success.
"Oh darling." He drawled. "You know, I´m just trying to teach you all a lesson. Sherlock Holmes will use you, you know? He´d rather let me harm you, than get harmed himself. You were right back then. He just doesn´t care about others."
"Fuck you." Sally spat and Moran giggled at that.
"Ah she is still a feisty one. I like her. But she will pay the price you know? Not killing doesn´t mean I won't take her apart, piece by piece. What do you think, she doesn´t need both eyes, does she?" with that the knife went close to Sally´s face and dangerously close to Sally´s left eye and that was enough for Sherlock.
"Okay, okay. I´ll do whatever you want me to. Just stop this." he pleaded.
Moran smiled now. "Will you?"
Sherlock forced himself to nod. "Yes. Just don´t hurt her anymore."
Trying to get his breathing and the rest of his body under control, Sherlock watched Moran walk up to him until he was inches away from his face. "Okay, then I´ll sit back and enjoy the show, shall I?"
The men let go of him, and Sherlock stood there for second, not sure what to do. Knowing what was expected of him was one thing, but the how was another thing. Women didn´t do a thing for him, they never had, but even if they did, he was sure he couldn´t have gotten an erection at this point.
Maybe if he tried to access his mind palace and think of John? He shuddered as he didn´t like to use him like this, but there was no other choice was there?
He opened his pants and took his hands to himself, which wasn´t that comfortable with cuffs. Just put yourself into a trance, he told himself. You can do this.
But it wasn´t working.
Moran was getting rather annoyed by this as well and finally held up his hands. "Okay, okay. God you are even more pathetic than I thought you would be. Luckily, I thought about that."
With one flick of Moran´s hand he was grabbed again, his pants were yanked down and Moran produced a small vial. Sherlock told himself that it was just transport, that he didn´t feel a thing, but being humiliated like this was hell. He tried to not feel the injection, which of course didn´t work, and even attempted to will away the painful erection which appeared about 3 minutes later.
"It´s just transport. Not really important." echoed through his head over and over again as he shakily stepped up to Sally.
Just as he entered her as carefully as he could - he would try and hurt her as little as possible- he saw it. Sally´s left arm was unharmed! That could only mean that they hadn´t found the tracker yet. Why the hell hadn´t he seen this earlier? He put it down to the drugs and the shock of the environment.
A strange feeling of joy and weirdness entered his guts and he made a weird noise that caused Sally to open her eyes, which she had closed as Moran had injected him. She of course had no idea what was going on, as she didn´t even know about the tracker.
Bending over her, he placed his still cuffed hands at the right point at her left arm and whispered to her "I´m sorry, Sal." before giving her a kiss on her forehead. He tried to maintain the movement of his groin while he searched for the tracker and as he finally found it, he took it between middle finger and thumb and pressed three times.
There was a slight buzz between his fingers, so he was sure that it had worked. Sherlock would have loved to let out a scream of joy, but remained quiet instead, still slowly doing what Moran had told him to do, feeling nothing while doing so. He searched for Sally´s eyes and tried to silently relay to her that everything was going to be all right somehow, as he couldn´t say it out loud.
And yet he was praying inside, screaming at the world: Damn it Mycroft, come on. Hurry.
#
It had taken a while until Sally had grasped where she was. Cursing the drugs, she took in her surroundings and came back with the fact that she was in some kind of factory. Bound naked to a table none the less.
It wasn´t hard to figure out who had brought her here.
"Fuck you, Moran!" She had thought, just as she heard someone walking up to her. Blinking through the dizziness she had seen the man she had feared to be the culprit, accompanied by two bullies.
And Sherlock.
She fought the urge to puke as she saw her friend with this monster and dreaded what was coming since she knew it couldn´t be good. At least he seemed mostly unhurt, except for a small wound on his arm which had stopped bleeding already. Moran seemed to be giving Sherlock orders, which she couldn´t hear as she was still too far away. Sherlock didn´t seem to like what he was saying one bit and a second later he was grabbed by the two bullies, while Moran picked up a knife and walked up to her.
Cold, deadly fear walked its way up through her gut, for herself and for Sherlock.
He would make him watch.
Moran would kill her right in front of Sherlock and he would make him watch.
She tried to get away but the bonds were too strong, so that she couldn´t do anything but watch as Moran cut her arm. It hurt like a bitch and she tried to breathe through the pain, just as a monk from this weird case a few weeks ago had told her to, in case she got her monthly cramps again. It didn´t really help. The pain made the dizziness worse though and she saw more than heard Moran talking to Sherlock.
And then there was pain once more as Moran cut her arm again. Parts of the conversation she could make out and a moment later she understood: He wanted Sherlock to rape her. She screamed at this and yet she was somehow relieved when Moran didn´t take her eye out and Sherlock agreed instead.
It was weird, but she wasn´t afraid of Sherlock. Had someone told her this over a year ago, she would have laughed and said that he was a psychopath and not to be trusted, but now? To be honest she didn´t feel a thing at the moment. Pain, yes, but it was thrumming in the background, while her feeling, hell nearly all of her soul, seemed to be gone somewhere.
Maybe this was what Sherlock meant when he said it was just transport? Or maybe she was going into shock, but too be honest she didn´t really care.
It meant she would survive this.
So she tried to tell Sherlock through looks that she would be okay and saw him trying to do what Moran was requesting from him. He failed though and as the bastard injected him she was screaming obscenities as screaming was all that she could do to fight back.
Closing her eyes, she felt Sherlock come up to her. He was gentle and it made her cry more as she remembered all the damn fights they had in the past. Right, that´s the perfect time to think about such things, she scolded herself, and opened her eyes as Sherlock made a rather strange noise. He seemed totally out of it and she prayed that his sanity was stored safely somewhere within his mind palace. God please let us survive this, she pleaded and felt him kiss her head. Then he suddenly was at her healthy arm, searching, then applying pressure? What the hell?
It lasted for a few seconds, then his hand left her arm again.
He had done something hadn´t he? But what? She was still too dizzy and feeling too dazed to understand what he had done. Whatever it was, she hoped that it would help. Help him, help her, it didn´t matter.
They would get through this. They had to
Sherlock was still steadily moving inside her. The men were cheering now, laughing, but Sally tried to tune them out. She saw that Moran was standing next to them once more, grinning like a kid in a toy shop. "Oh, come for me, Sherlock!" he giggled and Sally felt bile rise in her throat as she thought that this monster was getting off on it.
It was only about a minute later when Sherlock actually came, without any sound at all. Under the cheering of the men he stepped back and slipped out of her. He bent down and took his pants to draw them up as fast as possible. But as she had resorted to only watch him now, she saw that he was still half hard. She shuddered because he looked like he was in pain as well. She didn´t wanted to know what Moran had injected into him. Whatever it was it couldn´t have been healthy.
Looking at her arm she saw that she was still bleeding steadily. It still hurt like a bitch but she was more or less getting used to the waves of pain wrecking through her body. Sherlock seemed to have followed her gaze as well, as he demanded. "You said you wouldn´t kill her. So get her medical attention or she might bleed to death." He looked rather lost at the moment, tremors wrecking through his legs which made Sally worry about him.
Moran smiled at that and Sally was sure that he wouldn´t give a damn. "I will see to that. But first..."
It was then that suddenly the room exploded into a warzone. The door to the hallway was kicked in, followed by a sniper who immediately shot the bully who was next to Moran between the eyes. Sherlock jumped into action and onto Moran, tackling him down onto the floor. She saw him trying to reach for the knife which Moran had stuck into his belt and wished she could help him. The other remaining men ran for cover to the far end of the room towards some old forgotten crates. They seemed to be interested in their own asses mostly, not caring about Moran, and Sally thanked the heavens for that.
While the sniper, protected in full safety-gear, came to stand in front of her and Sherlock to shield them from Moran's men, Sherlock had somehow wrestled the knife of Moran. He was sitting on the ex-soldier now, pressing him effectively into the floor and Sally was glad he had won. Taking a deep breath she wanted to look for Mycroft, John and the others who she hoped would soon come through the door, but registered Sherlock raising his hands and looked back to him instead.
Moran still wasn´t giving up and tried to wiggle from under him but Sherlock didn´t seem to be concerned by this. Instead he raised his hands, with his fingers still grasping the knife,just as Moran got one arm free. And before Moran could get any more leverage Sherlock stabbed him in the neck, close to his throat.
Moran let out a gurgling noise as Sherlock took the knife to him.
One. Two. Three times, all in quick succession.
Then Moran was silent.
Sherlock appeared to be in trance for a few moments, knife still raised, just staring at the body.
While the sniper and another colleague were closing in on the other men now, who seemed to have at least one gun as well, Sherlock came to life again. The knife was discarded onto the floor as he continued to stare at his bloody hands in shock, before looking at her for a second.
Sally cursed that she was still bound, but was relieved as suddenly Mycroft and John rushed into the room. While Mycroft cut his brother´s cuffs with a bolt cutter, John immediately tended to her arm and a second later Mycroft was with her, getting her free.
All the while Mycroft´s men had formed a safe wall with bullet proof shields and were fighting the remaining three men. She was sure she had seen Lestrade, Anthea and maybe even Anderson, but she might have been imagining it. Yet, that was the moment when Sally finally allowed herself to breath again.
It was weird, the whole damn thing had probably taken barely two minutes, but to Sally it had seemed like everything was in slow motion. Now the time seemed to rush in again, as well as the pain, as John was prodding at her wound.
"I´m sorry, Sally. It might hurt a bit, but I can´t give you anything until I know what's in your blood, as you are still clearly affected by it." His gaze went over to Sherlock as he took a bandage, which Mycroft had gotten out of the medical emergency bag.
"Sherlock?" John called. "Sherlock, we are getting Sally out of here. Come with us, yeah?" But the consulting detective didn´t seem to hear him. So Mycroft tried to call him instead, all the while he was trying to help John with a decent bandage for her arm. Said doctor suddenly cursed.
"Damn it, it's bleeding more heavily again. Mycroft, I need you to press down. I´m sorry Sally, it's going to hurt, but we have to get you out of the line of fire first, okay?"
A nod. Then Mycroft pressed down onto the wound, which hurt so bad that it made her sees stars and she screamed.
Next to them a man with a stretcher appeared and she was placed onto it while John was still working on her, assisted by Mycroft.
"Sherlock get out of here. Come on. "John called again and then she was rushed towards the door.
"Sherlock." She tried as well, but as her voice was strained and hoarse due to all the crying, she was sure that he hadn´t even heard her as she was wheeled out.
The shots fired between Mycroft´s MI6 men and Moran´s lackeys became distant sound as she was wheeled into the cold night air.
It was okay, she told herself.
We are going to be okay.
#################
Ah well. Sherlock and Sally don´t seem to like me at the moment- but I love putting my characters through some misery I´m afraid. So what do you guys think?
