Sebastian and Jim were separated for two days until the details were cleared up. Seb was sent to another children's home close by, which despite not having staff trained in mental health issues, had more adults to supervise and more male workers, which Verity claimed would help Sebastian to relate as he was a potential danger to women, as well as to little boys.
Of course, the reality was that Sebastian spent his two days feeling threatened, pressed in from all sides. Nobody mistreated him, but he was looked at like an animal instead of a person, and he had to eat by himself. He wasn't allowed to interact with the other children either, not that he would have anyway. Being treated as though he was dangerous was nothing new to Sebastian, but it still made him feel odd inside, because he didn't see himself as a bad person. More of a good person that did bad things sometimes. He still related to heroes in books, wanted to protect his country, and liked to imagine when his mind wandered, that people like Captain America and Han Solo would think he was brave and worthy. They would have understood him, he was sure of it.
He behaved impeccably well, needing to get back home, and when he was released he returned with a glowing review from the man who ran that particular children's home. Despite Sebastian's gruff nature, the man, Joseph, saw what Dawn had many years ago, and recognised a boy in a difficult situation not of his choosing. He sympathised, but could do nothing further to help. Sebastian would have been proud of the report sent back to Verity had he not been inwardly crumbling with worry about Jim. So much so that nothing else seemed to matter. Two days with no solid information had left Sebastian to fester, his skin burning. Jim was hurt and bruised, but the extent of his injuries were something nobody wanted to share with him.
It turned out that Danni, who was mostly unbiased, could see that Sebastian was not to blame for the attack, not only because of his nails, but because Ben rang up the home in Sebastian's defence (after a very distressed message from a frantic Sebastian) to provide an alibi. As much as Verity felt she was being duped, she couldn't deny the evidence in front of her, and she was fully aware that Danni was trying to check the conditions of the home. Taking great pride in her work, Verity dropped her allegations, keen to keep her head down, lest she lose her job. It wouldn't do to have people interfering, even if that meant putting up with Sebastian for another few months. By that point she assumed he would have done something else troublesome, because he couldn't get away with his appalling behaviour forever.
Jim was currently allowed time off school for trauma, and so he was already waiting in their bedroom, staring into space, touching the bruises on his wrists subconsciously when Sebastian returned. The Irish boy was lonely, but beyond that, he felt empty. Life without Sebastian was like being left alone on a desert island with no food or water, dangerous animals prowling everywhere, ready to strike you while you slept.
The moment Jim saw Sebastian carrying his bags into the room with one of his harshest expressions on, he burst out crying, unable to stop, the sudden onslaught of unexpected emotion after days of repressing his feelings too much to handle. He collapsed on the ground, hugging his skinny knees to his chest.
Sebastian ditched his things, closed the door behind himself and ran straight to him, immediately protective, although there was something plainly wrong with his demeanor. Usually Sebastian could be easily read, but not today. Today there was a barrier under his skin, like sheets of metal hiding the muscle and the blood, armour over his eyes so nobody could see in properly.
The thirteen year old easily cradled Jim in his arms, and Jim didn't struggle. He went completely limp, allowing himself to be picked up and carried without complaint. He'd used up all his energy resources dealing with the adults. Now the only thing left was pain.
"It's alright," Sebastian mumbled, hugging Jim close, without any sign of his recent reluctance to show physical affection. Jim knew he had protective instincts, the same way that mother animals tended to have when their children were threatened. It was an amusing character trait for a boy like Sebastian, but it worked in his favour, so he wasn't going to complain.
Jim didn't respond. He didn't have any words to say and his voice would have come out too weak anyway.
"I'm here," Sebastian continued, voice low and rough. It felt both close and distant at once, and Jim wondered if that meant his own brain had broken and he was detaching, or if Sebastian really was displaying both traits. It was too difficult to tell when he felt like this. Nothing made any sense. Not even his beloved numbers.
The blond carried Jim to his bed and settled him down on top of the covers, perching next to him, as though Jim was ill and Sebastian a visitor at the hospital.
Seb started to stroke Jim's hair, which still felt oddly sore. It must have been in his mind, Jim thought, because the hair pulling had happened days ago now, so it was impossible for his scalp to still ache and twinge. But this new touch was welcome because it proved that Sebastian was different. Sebastian didn't pull and tug and try to control. He soothed and tried to clean him up in his own clumsy way, trying to flatten Jim's fluffy hair as if that might return him to normal.
The little boy blinked up at Sebastian, his eyes were rimmed with red and he looked incredibly frail. He was skinnier than Sebastian remembered, or perhaps that was just down to his current body language? None of his usual confidence remained, as though it had been kicked out of him.
Maybe you just didn't look after him well enough, the voice in Sebastian's head suggested. He recognised it from somewhere, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly which voice it was or where he had heard it before. Maybe if you hadn't been so selfish you could have stopped it. Maybe if you'd given him attention instead of trying to enjoy yourself, Jim wouldn't be crying right now…
"Sebastian," Jim whispered, his tone broken. He didn't continue immediately, so Seb didn't push him, just kept stroking his hair, waiting.
"It wasn't w-wasn't my fault," he said, his words cracking at the end, sounding like he was about to start sobbing again. Sebastian couldn't handle that, he could never handle it when Jim got like this. He curled up next to Jim, trying to completely cover his body with his arms and legs, acting as a physical barrier between Jim and the rest of the world as his best friend shook in his arms.
"'Course it wasn't," Sebastian reassured him. "Everyone knows it wasn't your fault." Although Sebastian still didn't know what 'it' was, and that made him feel more nauseated than he could explain.
Jim sniffed. "I should never have gone to the h-house…"
So it happened at a house. During a job. Something to do with the gang at Jim's school. Someone had set him up.
"It wasn't your fault," Sebastian insisted, the steel back in his voice. Jim couldn't see his face, but he could sense that Sebastian's lips were curling, his nose crinkling slightly. He wanted to ask more questions, to get the exact details, but he didn't want Jim to break down entirely. He wanted to ask who had done it. How the situation had happened. Who had left Jim in such a vulnerable position. The circumstances from start to finish. But that was impossible. He'd be lucky to get even a few sentences out of Jim without sending him into a screaming fit.
"They said bruises on your arms," Sebastian prompted lowly, hating himself for dragging everything back up, but needing his answers. How else could he complete his mission objectives? "Anywhere else?"
"My chest and my hips," Jim said, faltering slightly. "And other places they don't know about. I didn't like to show them…"
Other places. Other fucking places. Sebastian felt sick. He felt sick because the system sure as hell wasn't going to protect Jim. He felt sick because there was no justice in the world. He was the useless one, he was the failure. It should have been him instead. Not Jim. Never Jim. How could a loving God have let this happen? It didn't make sense. Over and over again Sebastian felt himself drifting away from religion, only to be pulled back, but now? No more. A world where people like Jim got hurt was a world he didn't want to be part of. He didn't want to support it. He wanted to actively set himself up as the opposition, because someone had to, didn't they? Someone had to take a stand. Someone had to look after Jim Moriarty because otherwise he'd get kicked around for the rest of his life, that magnificent brain going to waste because people were stupid fucking idiots who liked to pick on people who were different.
"Bad places?" Sebastian asked tentatively.
Had Jim been his usual self he would have scoffed at the euphemism, because he wasn't a baby and he didn't need to be talked down to. He knew his anatomy better than Sebastian did, and wasn't embarrassed to discuss it. But as it was, he took a breath and then broke down again.
"Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry," Sebastian practically chanted as Jim started to tremble and whine again. "Don't cry, Jim. I'm here now."
"It's too late," Jim whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks, although his fingers clutched at Sebastian's t-shirt. "It's all too late. It's all finished now. It's all over. It's finished, Sebby. It's f-finished…"
Sebastian didn't know what was finished, all he knew was that Jim was slipping away from him. He was physically present, but his mind was starting to run. He needed it to stay for just a bit longer.
"L-look," Jim whispered, shifting slightly and pulling up the hem of his shirt to reveal marks where fingers had pressed too hard into his skinny hips. Sebastian knew full well there was only one reason there would be marks on that particular area of skin.
Sebastian gritted his teeth and felt his chest ache. "You're safe now," he mumbled, even though that wasn't the truth.
Jim could feel Sebastian shaking. He only ever shook when he was about to explode, to erupt like a volcano. But Jim wasn't scared. It was like he was transferring some of his pain to his best friend, and it felt good to share it.
"Kid at your school or someone else?"
"Just a man," Jim whispered. Although he wasn't just a man at all. He was terrifying. A person had never scared Jim so much in his whole life.
Sebastian grunted. Falling silent for a while, he stroked his fingers through Jim's hair and then down to his neck over and over. So some bloke, some fucking bastard had hurt Jim. A bully. A fucking piece of shit.
Target identified. More information needed.
"Do they know what happened?" Sebastian asked shortly, inclining his head at the door to indicate Verity, Frank and Dawn.
The littler boy shook his head, cheeks pink with embarrassment. To the knowledge of Verity and his care coordinator, he'd been beaten up, and he was keen to keep it that way. Sebastian had seen through it all straight away, though, and that was because he was smart. His mind went neatly from step to step, order after order being processed. As well as his intelligence, Jim knew Sebastian could tell what had happened because he worried and he cared. He looked, right now, like a boy trapped in a nightmare. He was experiencing pain just like Jim's, which was what led him to say the single word he'd been fighting away for days.
"Hurts," Jim admitted quietly, which was the closest he would come to discussing the incident.
There was a long pause. Sebastian sniffed and blinked with unnerving slowness.
"Right," Sebastian said, in his deep business voice, the one he used before he charged at someone who had insulted Jim, his warning. Something had snapped into place inside his brain, something that seemed to have been readying itself for years. "Right, I'm gonna sort it," he continued, moving himself away from Jim, who whimpered as he was left, so he could grab his dressing gown, draping it over the smaller boy with a great amount of care. Jim didn't complain any further because he usually got told off when he curled up with Sebastian's dressing gown. One time when he'd appeared at breakfast wearing it, Verity had been very cross, and when Sebastian had spoken to him alone, he'd sworn at him and told him to wear his own damn clothes.
"Can't you stay?" Jim asked, half sitting up. He didn't want to be alone now. Not after two days by himself. He wanted someone to hold him and remind him that not all touches were bad.
"Not tonight," Sebastian said clearly, his eyes far away. "I have something to do."
Jim swallowed, anticipating Sebastian's next words. His wonderful, vengeful, Sebastian. He really was like one of those knights in Le Morte d'Arthur. The moment was almost too beautiful.
"Name and address," Seb requested lowly, already stripping off his blue t-shirt and hunting through the wardrobe for something darker, pulling out a plain black shirt that was too big.
Jim lay down again slowly and watched the scars on Sebastian's back. They were getting fainter as he aged, and it had been a long while since Sebastian had felt the need to hide them from him. Jim had the urge to touch them, something he often thought about, but there was no time for that now.
"They won't let you into the armed forces," Jim reminded him in a small voice, observing the methodical way Sebastian began to unpack his black school bag, taking out his books and pens and some wrapped up piece of food most likely cooked by Sophie's father.
"Name and address," Sebastian repeated calmly.
Jim's heart began to pound.
"It's too far."
"I've got all night," Sebastian countered, in the same steady voice.
"What are you going to do?"
Sebastian shot Jim an even look, holding his gaze for a long time, swallowing. His Adam's apple bobbed beautifully and his jaw gave an odd twitch that Jim's eyes caught on before drifting back to his cold blue eyes.
"Kill him," he said simply.
Jim let out a tiny sigh of excitement and bliss, his eyes closing for a moment.
Sebastian carried on hunting through his bag and Jim was forced to open his eyes again. He needed to see Sebastian. He wanted memories of this new face. It was a historical moment.
"I'll love you forever if you don't get caught," Jim bargained, curling in on himself but still watching Sebastian unpack his bag. Occasionally the older boy paused, his eyes flashing with something hard and cold and unreasonable. He looked like a soldier. Ready to be reprogrammed. Ready to serve.
Was Sebastian really going to do this, or was it just a game? Were they pretending this time? Was it just another chance for Sebastian to play at being an adventurer?
"But if you do get caught," Jim added, needing to make himself clear. His expectations hadn't dropped after all. His pride was wounded and he was in pain, both physical and mental, but that didn't mean he would accept shoddy work. "Then I'll have to give up on you."
Sebastian glanced at his wrist watch and then stood up. It wasn't quite time yet. He'd have to leave when all the other kids were asleep. Jim would be his alibi, and he could climb out of the bedroom window no bother. There were bins that could break his fall and a drainpipe close enough to help him on his descent. Getting back in would be a struggle, but he knew it could be done. If he was headed for the army, he'd have to learn to think on his feet. This was both a vengeance mission and a training exercise. His first proper go at fighting for a cause. He understood Jim's terms entirely. This was about him redeeming himself and proving himself worthy. And he would do it. He would find the monster that he knew would haunt Jim's future nightmares. Find him and slay him. Forever eliminating him. Threat erased.
He walked over to the bed where Jim was curled up, looking far younger than he was, and then got on his knees beside it, resting his head on the pillow next to Jim, staring at his wide, brown eyes.
They remained frozen like that for a minute or so. Sebastian couldn't see that inside Jim's head he was shrieking, and Jim couldn't see past the armour of Sebastian's own eyes which were already closing off. But without words they felt bonded. They simultaneously understood and confused each other.
"I love you, Sebastian," Jim whispered honestly, breaking the silence, reaching for Sebastian's blond hair, petting him like a dog, like a loyal puppy.
"Love you too," Sebastian breathed back.
"Really enough to kill someone?" Jim asked in a small voice.
Jim held his breath, ready for Sebastian to laugh, to tell him that this wasn't real life at all. They were playing pretend. It only existed in their imaginations. He would be sleeping in his bunk tonight and Jim would have to move into his own bed. There was nothing they could do. They were just kids. Powerless.
But Sebastian didn't say anything of the sort. He leaned in and kissed Jim on the forehead, letting his lips linger for a while.
"Enough to kill everyone."