Just to make it clear, this is set post-reichenbach. So... just in case people were wondering. This chapter's a bit longer. I'm trying to slowly increase the length.
And thank you to those reviewing. If there's any areas for improvement, I'll be happy to hear from anyone, too. Like: 'increase your vocabulary knowledge!', which I know I need to do. Thanks for reading!
The body continues shivering at thirty four degrees. The skin pales further and there will be a huge urge to move to a warmer area.
The shivering was irritating Sherlock beyond measure.
It was a constant reminder of his situation and that he had very little time to get out of it. From behind the webcam, Moriarty was rubbing his gloved hands together. He was lucky. He had a huge furry parka on. Sherlock figured that he was being mocked by his nemesis.
There had been a good half hour silence, but now it was broken by the slick Irish voice.
"You know, Sherlock, in a few minutes I'll be taking my leave. It's a little too cold in here for my liking. I would have thought you wanted to join me, but you seem nice and comfortable where you are, so I'll let you enjoy it. Just to make it clear, I want you to know I don't really want you dead. I mean, if you're killed, I'm not going to prevent it or anything. It's just that I want to... test you. To see if you and Johnny boy can figure a way out by yourselves." Sherlock narrowed his eyes, still knowing that he wasn't permitted to talk. "Yes, that's right. I want John to find you without any help. So I've created a diversion that means the police will leave him in peace. That'll weaken your advantage. Now we're both more equal."
Sherlock stayed silent. Moriarty rolled his eyes.
"You can talk, okay? As long as you don't give anything away."
"Give anything away? I don't know where I am in the first place." Sherlock's voice shook slightly and he convinced himself that it was purely down to the temperature. Moriarty shrugged and motioned for him to continue. "I don't care what you do to me. Just don't hurt John. He's no part of this."
"And yet he is. And whose fault is that? But you don't care what happens to you? Really?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Alright." He snapped his fingers and – BAM. Sherlock felt several ribs on his right crack as a fist impacted his side.
"Argh..." He moaned. "No. You know what I – "BAM."A-A-Argh!"
"I'm rather enjoying this. Now. Beg."
"W-Wha–" BAM. "ARGH!" BAM. "NO!" BAM. Sherlock's voice dropped to a whisper. His body sagged. "Please, J-John. Get me out –" BAM. "Please... John. I'll... let you know the lottery numbers –" BAM. He flinched. "John..." BAM. "John..." BAM. "Oh God, stop. Please stop. I... I..." BAM. "I take it back. I don't want you hurting me. P-Please."
Moriarty smirked and the masked man finally withdrew. Sherlock felt sick and dizzy. His body hurt. A lot.
"When I said beg, I was rather hoping you'd direct it at me rather than precious Dr Watson. But I reckon you learnt your lesson all the same – never say something you're going to regret later. Elementary, really."
Sherlock scowled. His shirt was drenched in his own blood. Even if he was set free now, he doubted he would remain standing.
I've regretted a lot of things in my life, but saying I value John's safety more than my own is not one of them. Remember Reichenbach?
But he didn't say that out loud because he was all too aware of the consequences. Moriarty sensed that he was the one holding all the cards now.
"I'd better be off now. In case I don't see you again, it was nice knowing you. Goodbye, Sherlock."
Without another word, he walked calmly out of the room. The masked man gave what seemed to Sherlock to be a disgusted look, and then followed his employer out, punching the tied up man in the stomach one last time for good measure.
Sherlock groaned.
The door clanked shut behind him.
He knew that the kidnappers would now be looking at the webcam too, observing his every move. If he mouthed out his location to John, he doubted he would live for very long.
And besides, he still wasn't sure where he was being held.
He futilely tried to calm his mind – but all he could do was panic. He struggled in the chair, but the bonds held him fast.
Oh God. Even his thoughts were reverberating in his head fearfully. He looked straight at the webcam and spoke very slowly, so his friend could make out the words clearly.
"John. I can't tell you where I am but... but if you work it out I'll... I'll... I don't know what I'd do, but... for now, I just need you." He hated saying it, but it couldn't be helped. This might be the last time he ever spoke. Remembering that, he added, quite a lot faster, "If I don't make it, I want you to know that none of it's your fault – just in case you feel guilty. And you've been a fantastic f-friend and – " Moriarty would be hearing this. Sherlock didn't want to sound too weak, too human. "I just hope that you've forgiven me over the Reichenbach incident. That's all. I've felt guilty about that, so, um, I'm sorry. And now you're going to be watching me here, probably with no idea of my location. I hope you aren't mad at me for all this. So, that's all I'm really going to be allowed to say. You aren't the only one listening in on my conversation."
He finally stopped, mid flow, not wanting emotions to get the better of him.
Time passed slowly as he thought harder than he had ever done before.