Ch. 4
A villain rises
John Harrison's POV
Harrison gazed down at John, a smile playing across his face. It was sweet, really, to see the mix of terror and excitement. His eyes followed John as the man stumbled back, tripping backward onto the floor.
"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" John asks softly, acceptance in his eyes. "You have my permission."
"Oh god, no." Harrison says, looking down at the man in horror.
"It wouldn't be that much of a waste." John argued with Harrison.
"But it would, John." Harrison said softly, leaping through the window and landing gracefully on the carpet. "You are the only bright spot in the world. I cannot, however, guarantee the safety of your future partners."
"Future partners?" John raised an eyebrow. Harrison couldn't help but admire how surprised he looked. Of course Harrison might not let John date, but he really didn't think that's why John was so surprised. "I didn't know you could joke."
"Yes, one of those frilly things you used to go out with. You'll start dating again soon…at least, you'll try." Harrison grinned wickedly. He wouldn't allow John to date one woman for too long; it would make her inevitable death so much harder on the ex-army doctor. And he didn't want to hurt John.
"I don't think so." John said, standing slowly. "Nothing will ever compare to how I felt with you."
There is was, that blasted past tense again! John Harrison could feel Sherlock inside of him sob with grief, but that's why Sherlock was dead, wasn't it? Because he was weak.
"I was under the impression you thought I was a machine." Harrison said, quashing the sadness from Sherlock, shoving it deeper into himself.
"I did, perhaps…once." John mused, his eyes going unfocused, clearly lost in thought. "But not anymore."
"Now I am a monster." Harrison said, watching John carefully. He wondered if the short blond would try and alert Lestrade and Harry to what was happening in the small bedroom. But John didn't seem to be going anywhere. He likes me better than you, Sherlock. See how he stays? He thought maliciously to the remaining bit of Sherlock in him.
"This is my fault." John said softly, "I am so sorry."
"I told you to stop apologising, John." Harrison said impatiently. "If anything, the world should be bowing before you. You stopped the inevitable, at least for a while." Turning on his heel, Harrison paces the small bedroom, taking everything in at a leisurely pace. "Can you imagine London if both Moriarty and I were on the prowl?" He hummed, a small smile on his face. "A city bathed in red."
"You'd be fantastic together." John says softly, interrupting his thoughts. Harrison can't help but laugh.
"Oh no. I would kill him."
"Or he would kill you." John offers.
"Oh John." Harrison's voice is condescending. "That is an adorable notion."
John looks thoughtful, and he concedes. "You're right. You're better than him."
"No, Johnny boy." Harrison shook his head. "I am much worse."
"Johnny boy? You're starting to sound like him…" John said, shaking his head. "Why are you here? Come to make me your next victim?"
"I won't murder you, Johnny." Harrison sighed dramatically. He loathed repeating himself. "You're far too…precious to hurt. Maybe I'll build a castle just for you, and you can watch England burn."
"I would rather be murdered by you than by myself." John said. Harrison's eyes narrowed at John. That would not be allowed.
"No one is touching you, sweet. Least of all you." He promised. "I have eyes everywhere. It turns out that my homeless network make marvellous henchmen. And you, my love, will make the perfect trophy."
Harrison enjoyed the way John's eyes widened at his statement, as though he didn't expect it. Maybe he didn't. He never was as clever at Sherlock was.
"T-trophy?" John stammered.
"Yes. I told you I couldn't live without you, and it turns out I was correct." Harrison snorted. "As always." He stopped his pacing, focusing all of his attentions on John. He watched as John's adams apple bounced; Harrison's piecing gaze causing his nerves to rise. "I must make you mine again."
"If you want me, I'm yours." John whispered. Harrison had not been expecting that. He had believed John would put up a fight. After all, it was only yesterday that he was dismissing Sherlock, and they did share a face.
"So you have an insanity fetish?" Harrison asked in disbelief. "Oh Johnny boy, you don't really expect me to fall for that, do you?"
"Fetish?" John was confused. "No…it's just…I've never been needed before."
"Then you clearly don't pay attention." Harrison resumed his pacing. "Sherlock Holmes needed you more….you kept him sane."
"I suppose it's too late to change that now, is it?" John said, freezing Harrison in his tracks.
"Change me back into Sherlock Holmes?" Harrison's voice was icy. "Why would you want to do that? He was an imbecile, a fool!"
"I loved him." John said simply.
"Ah, there's that word again. Loved." Harrison said, ignoring how Sherlock's feelings wrung at his heart. "You did not love Sherlock Holmes. He was unworthy of your love. He was a nothing. You only want him back so you can break him again." The feelings were strong, and Harrison marched back to the window. Clearly he had to break Sherlock a little more before he could capture John. "You cannot, however, break me."
"I know." John said softly. "But you want me, you need me. And I am yours."
Harrison smiled, a terrifying sight. "And I shall take what is mine. Poor Lestrade, he won't even get your help. He'll have no idea where you vanished to."
"Don't kill him." John said, his spine straightening.
"Oh, not tonight." Harrison said, stepping up into the window. "But maybe later. Until then, love." And Harrison disappeared into the night, leaving a confused and nervous John in his wake.
A/N: Thank you all for your beautiful reviews. Seriously, I cannot believe you are still reading this, let alone enjoying it! I hope this chapter is what you were hoping for, and I will continue to type away to get the chapters to you as fast as possible!
Cinnamon sticks and candle wicks,
Robottko.