Chapter Seven – Reflection: John
"No-!" Sherlock whispered as Moran seized a fistful of John's lovely thick hair and forced him forwards, head into the water. John thrashed about, as much as his bonds would let him, After what seemed like forever, Moran pulled his captive up again, by the hair, and allowed him to gasp several painful breaths before plunging him in again. Sherlock fell into his chair, again bound by the strange horror that meant he could not look away. Every part of him was repulsed and reviled by the sight of John undergoing this torture, but he knew he had to endure, if not so John would not be alone. Another ridiculous notion, but he was so full of them it seemed, another added to mix wasn't going to hurt.
John shivered violently on the cold floor of his cell, still soaked from the days' torture, all involving water again, the icy drops running down his back, neck and face, succumbing to gravity. If he judged the breaks where the light was turned off and the silent hours he was given to sleep as the night then he had been here for two weeks tomorrow. His stomach hurt terribly not only from the bruises of 'Seb's' blows, but from hunger as well. He had given in last week, forcing down the food they had given him (he noted they gave him his favourite breakfast every day) as there was no other food given to him during the day; breakfast was all he got. Seb had told him that if he didn't start eating soon he would be force-fed and John thought the notion of being tied down, nose held shut and mouth forcibly opened while food was poured down his throat to be one form of torture he did not want to volunteer for, so ate the toast.
His leg was killing him, pain shot down it like arrowheads and occasionally it spasmed. He was cold, soaking and miserable. His skin was sore and raw from being left in a cold shower for the last hour meaning he was cold through and through, making him shake. It had been too long, they weren't even asking for any information from him, all they wanted to do was make him suffer and he sure was suffering. He curled a little further into himself, and pulled the blanket tighter around his raw skin, not caring how much it hurt.
The light had been out for at least an hour or two so he was sure Moriarty couldn't be watching him right now. His dropped the wall he had built around his pent up feelings and allowed them to peek over the dam. His face scrunched up and his sobbed a few times as quietly as he could. His shoulders shook as he cried; he was so confused and felt so powerless and he was suffering for it. He longed to be home, sunken deep into his armchair, tapping away on his latest blog, making tea for Sherlock.
God how he missed Sherlock; he had grown so used to living so completely with him, even if they weren't always together. He missed the 3am violin concertos, especially since he now realised that the song he was most often playing at that godforsaken time was a dedication to John. He felt alone, very much on his own, but not isolated, not anymore. He still had Sherlock and everything that had happened between them; he had the memories of their touches, that first time he gingerly caressed those long white fingers and told him he cared as more than just a friend. He still had all the beautiful glances Sherlock would give him when he was secretly feeling surges of emotion and he would always have that blissful first kiss. Remembering it made the pain fade away for a while and the cold stopped biting at him as he thought about those soft, chaste lips pushing against his own in an act of rare affection. The kiss was born from fear at losing the other and it was sweeter than anything because their feelings had been tested and proven true. That sweet memory was his one of his most secret, most personal and most treasured. He cried a little harder at the loss of his partner but felt comforted knowing he had a mind like Sherlock's looking out for him. It had been two weeks, but he knew Moriarty was not going to make it easy to find him. He prayed for Sherlock to be close to finding him, to be bursting through that door with his collar turned up high and a quip about John not being around to buy the groceries or something.
There wasn't much to hope for in this place, there wasn't even the promise of it stopping if he gave them some sort of information so that was his main escape route blocked. He knew that if they were doing this for fun, which he was pretty certain of, there was no telling when this would end. He could be kept here for months. He had wondered for a little while if Sherlock had been taken and was being tortured in another cell at the same time, but he had dismissed the idea as Seb spent all his time with John, there were no prolonged lengths of time where he was not with John in order to torture another person. He could always hear his tormentor's footsteps and sometimes muffled voices from the other side of the door. Since he heard no other screams of pain he assumed he was the sole recipient of their sinister attentions.
He wept a little more, thinking about what he had been put through and what they might have for him in the morning. He didn't want to think about it, he wanted to fade away, wake up in Baker Street, black out until it was over, but he couldn't even get to sleep, he was too wired and he hurt too much at the moment.
"Please, hurry up Sherlock…" he whimpered, thinking no one could hear him. But they could. No one had told him that the camera fed not only to the screen outside that Moriarty viewed but to the computer screen of his lover.
Sherlock had solved the mystery of those kidnapped children, Moriarty was being processed for breaking and entering and since returning home from when the girl had screamed her head off at him he had not left the flat since. He had made a short detour to a supermarket on the way and come home with a couple of bags of things that should keep him going. It mainly consisted of coffee and sugar.
He saw John curling up in pain, he heard the sobs and his own breath caught in his throat in sympathy and cried out when John whispered his name, pleading for help. He had had to watch ten days of John's torture, the 'nights' slightly shorter for John than they actually were to eventually skew his perception of time, one of the things he would be clinging to in order to keep him sane.
Sherlock was at a loose end. Mycroft's people had turned up nothing (that was where he was at the moment, gone to intimidate them in person), Moriarty had not contacted him with any demands, only that he watch and his own enquiries had met a dead end. He felt helpless, utterly helpless and it was not a feeling he was used to, he loathed it with every fibre of his impressive being. It was tearing his mind apart to be ruled by his heart which had been unbound by and for John, but without his anchor here to keep him steady, he was adrift in this storm of emotions that he was not sure how to deal with. He had never experienced them as strong as this before, as paralyzing and he wasn't sure if he was going to see this through. He had opened up his heart, unlocked the feelings and allowed himself the pure indulgence of emotions and now they were being used against him; he should have seen this coming, he knew he isolated himself for this exact reason. But the thought of not having had John in his life made him so unbearably sad that he could not entertain it for very long.
He heard John's plea for help and his head sank to the table, bowed in defeat.
AN: Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed so far, it has meant a lot to me! Extra kudos to Val'Drae for pointing out some technicalities which needed looking at. Thank you so much for pointing this out, it's very difficult for me to spot that kind of thing when obviously I can see how everything pans out in my head. I will bear this in mind from now on (though if you see it in future chapters I apologise as most of this story was written before I started posting). As this chapter is so short I will be posting the next one either tomorrow or Monday. This was only ever intended to be a snippet of John's feelings on the whole thing anyway. I wont' keep you waiting for some proper action too long I promise! Thanks again guys :)
