Jim sits in the attic, sorting through things, waiting for Sebastian to get home. It's awfully quiet around the house without Alex - and although he won't admit it to himself, he misses Hamish, too. They've become intertwined in his life, Alex for the past eighteen years, and Hamish for the past four. The empty house that he had longed for for so long had lost its appeal, and now all he wished was for a few more hours with all as it had been before.
It wasn't so bad when Sebastian was home, but he still missed Alex. Everything reminded him of him. Even the things that had irritated him, that he had screamed at him, grounded him for, wouldn't have been an unwelcome addition to his life.
He starts going through the boxes again, pulling himself out of his thoughts. They'd been meaning to organize the attic for years. He figures he'll go chronologically, and moves to the other end of the attic, to the oldest boxes. From when they first met.
Are you okay? Those were the first words Sebastian Moran had said to him. He'd been crying in the bathroom - pathetic display of weakness, and he'd hated himself for it. Carl Powers had bested him again, and he knew it wouldn't go on for much longer, but he couldn't take it anymore. He could've survived if it was just that, but his Father hadn't been wonderful to him the night before. And so James Moriarty cracked. Sebastian Moran was there for him, and not for the last time, either. He barely remembers it - but that's okay. He remembers his warm embrace.
He smiles a bit, pulling out the jacket he'd worn that day. It still smells like Sebastian. Or maybe it smells like blood and sweat. There's not really a difference. There's also a bloody shirt in the box, and he stuffs it away, but it's too late for him to not catch the scent, and he's jerked back.
Sebastian finds him in the attic three hours later, sees the shirt, knows what happened, and holds him close until he's okay again.
But is he really okay?