The Curious Case of John Watson
Epilogue
Captain John Watson was never one for hospitals; even after he was shot he'd spent his entire stay trying to get out. When he was a kid it meant too many questions, as he got older it just meant a lot of time stuck in one place. He was a man of action not of lying in bed and being hawk eyed by a bunch of nurses. This time however, he didn't mind. He hardly noticed the week go by, he barely felt the "progress" his doctor went on about, and he really didn't care that he'd done nothing but sit for the whole trip. He didn't care because there was nothing else for him to do. He had half expected to find himself in a coma again, at least that would have been an excuse to stay in bed longer. It would have occupied him for a bit at least, since there really was nothing left for him in the outside world. He didn't have a job; that went out the window after he spent a month split between a vegetable and an eight year old. He didn't have any one to visit, seeing Harry was always a hassle and Sherlock…well. The detective had made his feelings very clear.
He winced slightly as he got out of bed and felt his feet hit the ground, the burns were still healing. He reached forward to grab hold of his newly issued wheel chair; he'd only need it for a month or so while he healed. His inability to walk was just another bitter reminder of his loss though. The first time he'd met the lanky detective, he'd cured his limp, the last time he'd see him was when he would be loosing his ability to walk all together. Sherlock had cured him just to leave him more broken than before. He had told himself he'd be able to handle this, that he would never regret the time he had with Sherlock, because he had felt loved. Which was partially true, he would always look fondly on the brief time where he did feel almost completely whole. What he hadn't intended on though was that it had all been a lie; he had known it wouldn't last, but he'd been stupid enough to believe that for at least a little bit someone had loved him. He had believed it at the time, which meant he could never fully regret it; he had finally felt love, even if it were a sham. But because it wasn't true, there was no fuzzy feeling to them, just pain. He was still as unlovable as the day he was born.
He hated sitting in the wheel chair, it made him look even smaller than usual, made him feel even smaller. It was as if everyone could look at how pathetically small he looked and see just how pathetic he was all around. He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and made his way into the hall. The hospital halls were the same boring shade of white that were in his bedroom as were all the desks and shelves. It was strange, but he couldn't care less at the moment. He wheeled himself forward, feeling uncomfortable with both his relative size to the nurses walking by him and the itchy clothing that his nurse had said Mrs. Hudson had sent him. Which was another odd thing, he would have thought at least Mrs. H would have visited him, or Lestrade, even Harry if for anything to ask for money. But the only visit he had was Sherlock's one trip up to give his cruel good bye's. He rounded the corner and came to an abrupt stop.
Standing in the hallway, with a grin as cunning as the devil himself, was none other than James Moriarty. John considered calling for help, but that probably wasn't the best idea, Moriarty would have a plan 'B' for sure. He gripped tightly onto the wheel chair involuntarily and swallowed down a scream. He was certain his shock and fear had to be written all over his face. The bastard was probably into it. The doctor didn't know what Moriarty was doing there or what he wanted, but he really didn't want to know. No, right now he just wanted to go…well there wasn't anywhere for him to go really, he didn't have any money either. He could always just call Mycroft and tell him to just have him shipped out today and get it over with. Anything would be better than to be left alone with the man who had tortured him for four days straight.
"Fancy meeting you here."
Moriarty greeted with an almost friendly tone, but John knew better.
"What do you want?"
He spit the words at the consulting criminal who almost laughed in response to the doctor's harsh tone. He wriggled his hands around the insides of his pockets while he composed himself.
"John, please, I'm not the one you should be angry with."
John scoffed; he couldn't believe the nerve of the man. He wanted to laugh, partly because of the audacity and partly because of how nervous he was. He knew how dangerous the man was, and what he was capable of.
"Oh yeah? Then who, who should I be mad at, hmm? Certainly not the man who stuck knives in me for four days!"
"Temper, temper!"
Moriarty took a few steps closer as he tsked the doctor, a large slightly manic smile splayed across his face.
"John, all I did was play my part, I'm just playing the game. Sherlock, he's the one, Sherlock's the one you should be mad at. Am I right?"
John clamped his jaw shut, he wasn't ready to talk about Sherlock yet, and definitely not with the madman in front of him.
"It's written all over your face Johnny-boy, he hurt you, he hurt you bad. Broke your tiny little h-"
"What's your point?"
John really didn't want to hear that, it was bad enough he knew people could tell; he didn't need to hear it.
"A bit grumpy today are we? Don't make me put you in time out; we know what happens to bad boys when they get sent to time out."
He purred and stepped closer so he could reach out and brush his fingertips across John's cheek. John pulled away from the touch, trying to keep himself from shuddering at the influx of memories associated with it.
"Can you just make this quick? I'm not even apart of your stupid game anymore, you know that, Sherlock left."
The last part came out in a harsh whisper, as if saying it louder would make it more real, make the pain worse.
"Oh, John! You know better, this isn't about Sherlock anymore! Well…not entirely. It's about you now, you and your special little gift!"
He twirled around with delight as if it were the greatest realization ever.
"You've got plenty of others who would be more than willing to work for you, what do you care about me? I'm not even that great at projecting, it still gives me headaches."
Jim shook his head and circled around the doctor, making him almost unbearably anxious.
"Fun fact, John. What you went through is my standard initiation process, it helps me assess my employees weak points, let's me know what kind of people they are. Most of them gave in within a couple of hours, some less than that. Sebastian lasted two days. But you…you were there for four days, and I wasn't even close to breaking you! Sure you were miserable, I heard you begging for me to kill you a couple times too, but you weren't going to give in were you?"
John shook his head slowly, no, he wasn't. He'd been trained to deal with that sort of thing, and he certainly wasn't going to work for some crazed murderer, no matter how much he tortured him. He hadn't thought of it, but it made sense that the torture was Moriarty's interview; it definitely fit how the man operated.
"Do you know why John? Because I do, I know lots of things about you, some you may not even know. I know why you wouldn't give in, it's because you're loyal. You're loyal to Britain and you're loyal to Sherlock. Or…you were loyal to Sherlock, am I right?"
John nodded his head, it was true, he would have given his life for Sherlock. He had nearly done it a dozen times, and he'd die for his country as well. He wasn't so sure anymore though, he wasn't sure he'd ever trust like that again. Sherlock had tricked him, broken him. The government, well it was almost as bad. It left him with a shitty pension after the war, after he bled for them, and now Mycroft (who practically was the government) was planning to have him shipped off to be tested against his will.
"I want you John."
The consulting criminal's deadpanned tone and all too serious face made the comment more than unnerving.
"E-excuse me?"
"You heard me. I want you. You're loyal, and a true soldier, not to mention you're the perfect man for the task at hand."
"Are you daft? You tortured me for four days and I never wavered once, what makes you think I will now?"
Moriarty leaned in so that John could feel the man's hot breath on his face.
"You're not the same man I tortured one week ago though, are you? No, like I said before you had loyalty. Now what do you have? Honestly, you don't even have a flat anymore. Look…I know that you're hesitant to work with me, you've got some moral code or something that tells you it's 'bad'. But why John, because it's what the law tells you is bad? What has the law done for you? They couldn't even be bothered to look for you, they only came when I gave them your location so they could keep up appearances, can't scare the masses you know!"
"You're a murderer. You kill people for fun; you make a profit off of misery."
Jim gave an almost kind smile and placed one hand on John's shoulder, which to the doctor's surprise, he didn't brush off.
"John, I promise you, if you do your job, you'll be saving lives. Trust me. With out you I'll have to kill a lot more people to get what I want! Besides, you'll be great at it, with practice you could be one of the greatest soldiers in my army! You will be needed John, you will be respected, you will be loved. Isn't that what you want?"
"How do I know you're not lying? You could just be taking me back to torture me for all I know."
"John…if I wanted to torture you, I would, your decision wouldn't matter in the slightest."
That was true…Moriarty did have considerable influence. This went against everything John had stood for though. It was against every fiber of his being, and yet…there was part of him that couldn't deny the allure. He liked the idea of being useful again, he liked being wanted. He knew this was wrong, but what choice did he have? He had no where to live, no one that cared for him, and he had no means of providing for himself for some time. Not to mention that a certain umbrella carrying genius was out to turn him into an overrated lab rat. Plus, there was always the chance that he said no and Moriarty took him anyway and tortured him to teach him a lesson. John observed the man who was centimeters away from his face, he was loony, there was no doubt about that. But he was smart, and he made a good point. A few good points. The doctor might not be proud of it, but he almost like the idea. Becoming a part of something, reaching towards a common goal, the camaraderie that came with these things. It was what had drawn him to the army in the first place. This was Moriarty though, the Moriarty! The one who had killed so many innocent people, the one who had tortured him! Yet…Sherlock had tortured him too, hadn't he? He'd ignored him, experimented on him, constantly berated him, he'd tricked him. Really the two men were a lot alike if he thought about it. Neither of them cared about anything but themselves and the game. Whether John liked it or not he was apart of that now.
"What would I have to do…hypothetically speaking. What would you be asking of me?"
Jim smiled wildly in a way that sent shivers down John's spine. If someone had told him a month ago that he'd even be considering working with this man he would have had them shipped off to the nut house. But that was before he was broken, before he'd lost everything. He wasn't a soldier, a doctor, a boyfriend…he wasn't anything. He was just a walking (correction, rolling) pile of nothing. He'd give the world to feel something again, to just feel even the smallest speck of admiration. It wasn't all bad either, he told himself, he could work within Moriarty's organization, maybe prevent a few murders. If Jim was being serious about John being important he might hold some leverage, he could save a few lives. Perhaps even get a little pay back. John wasn't one for revenge, normally, but imagining the shock on Sherlock's face when he saw the soldier by Moriarty's side…well it almost made him excited. He could be tricky too, he could be underhanded. He wasn't going to just lie there like some wounded dog, like some toy the detective could use until he was no longer amused and just toss him aside! Jim moved his free hand to John's other shoulder and looked the doctor dead in the eyes.
"You'd be doing no less than helping me bring down the British government, and the Holmes boys along with it. After that…well, we'll just have to wait for the highest bidder. A lot of money in terrorism Dr. Watson."
John didn't like the sound of that; he had fought against terrorism just a few years ago. He also couldn't deny the risks involved weren't appealing either, besides the risk it posed to British citizens there was the risk to his own freedom as well. Even if it meant getting back at Sherlock and his brother…he was a human after all.
"I don't kn-"
"John, be logical. The people will be fine, the government will recover…eventually, we just need to demonstrate our abilities. Once people know what we're capable of, no one will ever be able to touch us again. No one will be able to hurt you. You'll have power…you'll have me."
John's face flashed with confusion, have Jim? Why would he want Jim? Why would Jim…did he want…John?
"We'll make a great team you and me. I'll treat you with all the respect Sherlock was too stupid to give you. He didn't know; he couldn't see how strong you are, how much power you hold. But I do, I can see it in everything you do. Sherlock's mind entertains me, but you…you excite me."
John could feel his heart beat elevated, it was terrifying to have such a man take an interest in him. He wasn't sure how to respond, although he could hear the voice in the back of his head was screaming to get out of there as fast as possible. His body didn't move though, in fact it stilled a great deal. This was horribly wrong, but John had spent his whole life doing right, and that had gotten him no where good. Life constantly just hurled its worst at the doctor, never once giving him any reprieve, once he finally would feel safe or that things could be turning up life would shove him back down. Maybe it was his turn to dish it out rather than sitting back and taking it like a bitch. He was done with being pushed around, and if that meant making a deal with the devil, then so be it.
"Fine."
"Fine?"
"I'll do it. But I have some conditions."
Jim eyed him curiously but he nodded his head approvingly.
"I'm listening."
John took in a deep breath before he started.
"Just a few. First, I won't be tortured, obviously you're a powerful man and you've proven that you can do as you please, but I most certainly will be ceasing any cooperation if you do so. Second, I refuse to kill anyone innocent, you can do what you want with me, but I won't kill an innocent person. Third…I decide what happens to the Holmes brothers."
Jim's face contorted into a sickeningly demonic smile, he licked his lips and looked at the doctor with an almost predatory stare.
"You drive a hard bargain John, I like that. I'll give you the first two, fine, that's easy enough. Plenty of nasty people out there to be killed, besides, that's not really going to be your area anyway. Pity we can't play with my toys though, maybe you'll let me make you scream in other ways…"
The consulting criminal trailed one of his hands from the top of John's should to the tip of his middle finger. His eyes glazed over just slightly as he watched himself do it then brought his focus back on John's face. Which the soldier was trying very hard to keep composed. He may be willing to work for the man, but there were certain things that were never going to happen.
"The Holmes boys are a bit more precious to me though, you'll have to earn them…you think you can do that?"
John looked at the madman warily; he didn't know what to think. Could he do that? Fuck, he didn't even know if he could survive the week. The only thing that he could think about was how empty he felt, and he just needed something, anything, to fill that hole. This could be the greatest mistake of a life time, but he was past the point of caring. From then on he was just going to focus on doing.
"Yeah, I think I can do that."
"Good."
Jim purred into the doctor's ear, and with that the two of them left the hospital and entered into a partnership that would begin, and end, in blood.
Don't be alarmed! Yes this is the end of the book, but that's only because there is way too much for one story, I'm going to be putting the sequel up real soon! Couple of days tops, maybe even tomorrow. John's going to figure it out as I've already stated in the last chapter, but it's going to take some time, and involve an awful lot of drama! (Sequel will be titled "The Trick Revealed")
