AN: ATTENTION; STRONG LANGUAGE AHEAD! !WARNING!
Heads up for my personal favourite chapter so far! (next to when the sun kissed the earth)
London Bridge Is Falling Down
James Moriarty was probably the biggest asshole alive.
Seriously.
That was the first thought that came to your mind, when you opened your eyes and looked down at the Thames River.
But not through a window, or from top of a building, no, from a bridge. You were tied to a goddamn bridge. There was a rope around your midsection, ropes under your arms, ropes around your wrists, around your ankles, a rope around your waist…and a rope around your neck.
To be exactly about your position: you were tied to one of the bridge-pier in the middle of the London Bridge, right above the giant river. You were on the side of the bridge, tight fog surrounding you, so you could barely see down to your stomach. For pedestrians, cars or ships it would be impossible to see you due to your position and the weather…great.
The weather was an issue on his own, indeed: it was freezing cold. You were only wearing your shorts, the Tardis Sweater and a pair of socks. No Jacket, no shoes.
There was one thing irritating you; you were tied to something that looked a lot like iron…why didn't it burn you? Maybe you only were a phoenix in the Supernatural-verse…however, you would investigate this later on, now you had different problems.
Silently you cursed Moriarty, knowing that it must've been him, who did this to you. Who else would get the idea to do something like this? Tying you to the London Bridge, next to something that looked an awful lot like some packs of c4. Indeed you also could hear a quiet ticking-noise….you shuddered. If you were to survive this, you would most likely murder Holmes.
Although you also might have yourself to blame….SebasTiAN Moran. How did you not see this coming? To your defence: you were tired, your ankle hurt and your head was dizzy…also Moran didn't actually appear in the SHERLOCK-Series! …but he called you 'lady', just like Moriarty did…and he used this little "oi", and…god you were an idiot. Why were you such an idiot? …because almost everybody is, you gave yourself as answer. Then you heard the steps. Somebody was coming closer…on something made out of metal?
You focused your eyes in the direction the noise came from and after a while you were able to see a bit through the fog: just enough to see the odd scaffold, right under the bridge. They were obviously refurbishing the bottom-side of the bridge.
When the steps came closer you finally heard something else…a voice. Somebody was singing. After a few moments more you were able to see a dark figure coming closer. Your head and neck were already hurting from the weird angle you had to use to see right next to you, so you were forced to look down at the water once again…and then you finally recognized what the person was singing. Even worse: you realized who the stranger was. …and the fear in your stomach almost made you throw up.
"London Bridge is falling down…
…falling down…
…falling down….
… London Bridge is falling down…
….my fair lady…"
The man stopped singing the very moment he reached you. He was standing behind you, right out of your view, so you only could see him, would you twist your head…but you didn't need turn around…you would recognize this voice alone everywhere.
"Nice view from your position, not dear?"
"Adorable, James. Why don't you come down here and join me? The view is to die for." You replied in your best sarcastic voice, drawing an amused chuckle from the criminal. In this very moment you really wanted to punch him in the face. Suddenly the metal-construction was screeching a bit and you felt a hand on your shoulder.
"Please, it's Jim. And I sure would, dear. But at the moment I am a little bit too busy to hang out with you…however, be assured that I already quite enjoy the view I have.
No time, no time…how is that always a problem? Well, I guess your friend Sherlock knows this problem of not having enough time as well." He had moved his hand a little bit, and casually started playing with your hair.
"Alright, Jim, listen. If you are only here to play your mind games, you got the wrong player. Better look for someone your brain level to have fun with. And if you're oh-so-busy, why don't you just leave and let me die in quiet peace?" You sighed heavily. How did you deserve all of this?
"Oh, you certainly won't die quiet, dear. Let's just say, you'll go with some noise. …well, if you' don't freeze to death before, of course…it would be quite a waste of your adorable face as I have to admit." With his last sentence, his hand brushed your cheek, a gentle touch that made you shudder in fear. God only knew what you would have given that very moment to slap him in the face at least once. …yet…even if you wouldn't have been tied up, you probably would have been too scared to do so.
"And about the brain level…you don't seem to be as ordinary as you may think. Look at the city Y/N. All those people…none of them using their brain, none of them thinking…it makes me sick.
But you, my lady, you do use your brain. You proved that in the underground tunnel, dear."
"Yes, of course!" Your voice was still tripping from sarcasm. "I am so clever. That's why your fuck…" all good gods, you almost said fuckboy, "…ing assassin managed to poison me without me noticing…although it being quite obvious."
"Oh, dear, watch your language!" He sounded really amused. Great, at least he was having some fun, while you were freezing your limbs off. "Everybody makes mistakes…it is not your fault. I knew you would trust Sebastian. Especially if he was a client that had already been talking with John on an earlier occasion." He obviously intended to stay, so you could as well just chat along. …at least gave you something to distract yourself from the fact that you almost couldn't feel your toes anymore.
"So, Mr Sex, why exactly did you decide to tie me up and blow me, inclusive the London Bridge, into thousand tiny pieces?"
"What do you think, dear?" He was now playing with your hair again, his tune casually, almost friendly.
"Well…I think you got bored and decided to play one of your games with Sherly? He certainly runs through London now, a wide grin plastered on his stupid face while he tries to solve whatever damn puzzle you gave him to solve in order to find the bomb."
"Only halfway correct!" He sang and you could practically hear the smile on his lips.
"Would you mind sharing your thoughts, Jim? It's a bit cold for guessing games."
"Well, I have my eyes on Sherlock…and let's just say, there is no smile on his face." So far his voice had been bright. A weird, happy, almost cheerful tune in it…but now it changed. To one, much more fitting a criminal of his ways. He was enjoying this, enjoying bringing pain to others.
"There is pain, dear Y/N. Pain, fear, concern."
Was he now completely mad? It was Sherlock friggin Holmes! This man showed no concern for anyone, …unless…
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO JOHN!?" The honest laugh you received as answer was quite confusing you.
"Oh, John is next to Sherlock. Such as concerned as him." What? ….Crowley really broke Sherlock's soul. Since when did he care so openly if something was blown up? Alright, there were people about to die…but Sherlock never cared unless it was about John?
"Second thing you got wrong…" Moriartys voice tore you from your thoughts once again. "I am not playing a game this time.
I want to burn him.
Rip his heart out and tear it in many, many, tiny pieces. I want to watch him drown in his own tears and this I'll do, as much as I pity it, by blowing you up, my dear.
It is not the c4 he knows is hidden somewhere, not the bridge, or the passing people who might die, he cares about. It isyou." This time it was you laughing out loud, leaving Moriarty quite puzzled.
"Jim, love, I think you got some wrong information here. I know Sherlock since, like, two days. I suppose I am the lastone, whose dead would make Sherlock the brick Holmes shed a single tear."
"Oh, I see this quite differently, dear." Suddenly his hand wandered back to your cheek, its grip tightening when he spun your head almost forcefully. You looked him straight in the eyes now…murder they read.
"Given how panicked he's looking everywhere to find you, there is nothing that could break his icy little heart more." You felt the fear again, felt the panic when he started chuckling darkly.
"Now, please excuse me. I have some business awaiting me. …enjoy the view as long as you can, Miss Y/N." He gave an ice-cold kiss to your cheek before letting go of you. You heard his steps at the metal construction next to you, as he left you alone in the fog...alone in the deadly cold…and yet there was only one thing you could think about.
Why did Sherlock Holmes care for you?
