Love Me Do
Chapter one.
Six months earlier
I had slept funny on my bad shoulder again, meaning it was total agony in the morning. Short, sharp shooting pains up in my body prevented me from sitting comfortably. There was nothing I could do about it. I had been home from Afghanistan a few months now and it had never properly healed. I watched as Moriarty (I still refused to call him Jim, no matter how much he insisted) cut an article out of the Guardian. I didn't need to even read it to know the subject matter. Sherlock Holmes. Moriarty had developed a frightening obsession with him, despite never meeting him. Like a teenage girl worshiping a celebrity from afar. He collected pictures, articles, anything he could get his hands on. A consulting detective and a consulting criminal, I knew that sooner or later their worlds would collide, I had the uneasy feeling that I would be involved somehow.
Not that I wanted to be of course, if I had the choice I would run, run as far away as I could as fast as my limp would let me, but then again where would that leave Harry? I had to remember I was doing this for her, she had made a deal with Moriarty, he would spare her life as long as he could have me. She had married his sister Clara, then broke her heart, that's how this whole mess started, so I bit my tongue and stayed put, like the trapped animal I was. Besides, I had enough blood on my hands from the army without adding my sister's to it.
So far I was simply his assistant, being by his side day and night. I still rejected his advances, pulled away when he tried to feel my leg, or put a hand on my knee. He crushed his lips to mine a couple of times, luckily he was interrupted before my lack of response was noticed. I was worried how long I could carry on denying him, he wasn't a man who was used to not getting what he wanted, and he wanted me. Why I didn't know, I wasn't anything special.
'I think it's about time Sherlock and I got to know each other, don't you think John?' He spoke in his usual silky Irish tone. I simply nodded, I had become very good at that. It wasn't as if I had anything I wanted to say to the man.
'He is looking for a flatmate. A friend of mine told him this morning, Mike Stamford, you may know him?'
'Yes' I nodded again 'We were at Bart's together'
'Well, I couldn't let an opportunity like this pass me by' He began to glue the article he had cut out into a scrapbook on Sherlock that he had made.
'You are going to be his flatmate?' I asked.
'Oh no Johnny boy' I flinched at the nickname he had given me, it made me sound like his pet, which in many ways I guess I was, but I hated being reminded of this fact. 'Me being his flatmate is far too obvious, no, I have thought of the perfect candidate though' He looked straight at me and grinned.
'Me? Why me?' I didn't have a clue about spying, sure I had watched a few Bond films in my time but I'm sure the reality was very different. I doubted living with Sherlock Holmes would involve beautiful women and flash cars. I also doubted that a man as clever as Holmes was would fall for such an obvious trick. He would find me out within five seconds.
'Because you are perfect Johnny boy, think about it, ex army doctor recently returned home injured from Afghanistan living with his sister but looking for his own place, that silly brother of his will do background checks and you're the only one whose story will check out.' A brother. I was quite surprised that someone as mysterious as Sherlock Holmes would have something so personal as a family.
There was a loud knock at the door and Mike walked in. I shook his hand uneasily and wondered how in the hell Mike got involved with a guy like Moriarty. Then I remembered the very expensive drug habit he had developed at med school.
'What the hell are you doing here?' Clearly the same thought had crossed his mind. 'I thought you were abroad getting shot at? What happened?'
'I got shot' I shrugged. We continued an animated discussion on the past, before Moriarty grew tired of this and sent us on our way.
'Remember the plan, introduce John as an old friend of yours, he is clever enough to do the rest' I followed Mike to the door but Moriarty quickly grabbed me, squeezing my shoulder, knowing exactly how to hurt me. As I winced in pain he hissed into my ear.
'Don't forget who you belong to Johnny boy. Don't think that just because you're out of my sight that you don't belong to me. You will always belong to me, your sister made quite sure of that.'
I felt the hairs on the back on my neck stand up, his breath caused my skin to crawl, and his words made my stomach retch as if it they contained some sort of poison. Moriarty would always be there, a dark shadow across my life, there would be no getting away from him, he clung to me, destroying me from the inside out, he felt like second hand smoke in my lungs. Despite knowing he would be forever under my skin as I was forced to do his bidding, I still felt such relief as I walked with Mike Stamford towards Barts. Unlike Moriarty I knew nothing about this Sherlock fellow, but I still savoured the feeling knowing that, if only for a little while, I would be free of Moriarty's glare, enjoying the feeling of the afternoon sun warming my skin.
