— v. sympathy

His whole body was as heavy as lead when he opened his eyes again. He must have been knocked out because he just couldn't remember how he got off the dining table and on the sofa. Those black eyes might have been open, but they didn't really see—or at least he couldn't put what he saw into context, even if it only was the boring fireplace.

"You were out for about two minutes, you do have a strong mind." A warm breath lingered on his left ear, her voice going through every inch of his body.

This time, it definitely was every inch.

"Makes me think that I shouldn't up the dose that much," Khalista whispered, her voice quivering in anticipation. "Hey…" She was standing behind the backrest, her head peeking over Jim's shoulder. "Is your mind ready for input or do you need another minute?"

He tried his best to get control over his jaw again. "…What?" he babbled.

"Okay, tell me when you're fully awake again, would you?

Khalista smiled gently as she walked around the sofa and sat down across from him on the long, dark brown coffee table. The fire was definitely too close, as she felt her back tingling in heat.

"I can't really move, but I can think… I think."

She got up quicker than she wanted to, but the heat was just too much. "Sounds good enough to me." Breathing out heavily, she sat down next to him and grabbed a small vial, latex gloves and a syringe from the table. After unwrapping the syringe, she sucked up some of the brown liquid from the vial.

Jim concentrated on his arms, trying to take the syringe away from her, but the only thing he managed to do was to wobble his hands around before one of them uncontrollably fell into her lap, being as limb as before.

"That is very thin ice."

"Lend a hand?" he giggled. Why was he giggling? He obviously lost control over his body, but it seemed like his mind was infected as well.

His giggling was forcefully stopped when she injected the syringe into his neck. She did it gently, her eyes, however, revealed that she most definitely wanted to ram it right through.

"Tell me, what is your name?" She didn't have much time to ask her questions, so she quickly forgot about the hand. Thiopental was a powerful drug to dull a brain, making it nearly impossible to do any cognitive tasks thoroughly—such as lying—in just mere seconds. The only problem was that it sent its users to sleep after about 10 minutes.

"James Moriarty, but please call me Jim," he mumbled with confusion on his face.

"Good. And do you know where you are? City-wise?"

"Somewhere out of London… The name of the town doesn't really matter to me."

Khalista's eyes didn't shift one bit, they were constantly analyzing every muscle in his face. "I heard you were in South Africa this morning…"

Oh, he was definitely high. "I wish! I think it was Sherrinford… Some kind of insane asylum. It had its charm though."

"Really? Who did you meet?"

"Mycroft Holmes," he mockingly roared in awe, "He's so stuck up, I think you'd like him. The two of you would make a great pair—no, wait. He's your brother, isn't he? That would be awkward… But not a problem." Jim just couldn't stop talking. He suddenly had the urge to talk and talk and talk and talk. He probably couldn't even breathe as fast as he was talking.

Her red lips turned into a gentle, wholesome smile. "You know I did want to marry him when I was younger. Usually, little girls want to marry their father, but big brother was more interesting." She wanted to linger in memories for a moment but soon realized that she was drifting off—almost as if she accidentally pricked herself with the Thiopental. "Anyways, I assume you also met my sister."

Jim just nodded, instantly regretting that choice of movement as it felt like his brain was banging against his skull. She could read it in his pain-distorted face.

"She probably said the usual things. Kill my sister… Et cetera."

"That doesn't sound right. I think she didn't mention you at all. She only told me to contact you so we could help each other."

That couldn't possibly be true. Khalista was sure that Eurus wanted to kill her. There was no other explanation to why she contacted her in the first place. Sherlock and Khalista were twins after all and it would make no sense to leave one of them alive, especially because they never had a good relationship. If Eurus wanted to really hurt her, she would have to kill Mycroft and not Sherlock. It just made no sense.

"What exactly did she say? I know it's hard to remember right now."

Jim felt like he drank a bottle of whiskey on his own—really good, but awful at the same time. "I have a sister, she is—" before he could finish the sentence, a yawn interrupted his speech. "She is skilled in the right fields. I'm certain you can help each other. She will do anything if you ask nice enough."

Khalista was shaking her head in disbelief. Help each other? It was obvious what help she provided, but how could Jim possibly help her? She lowered her head, her long, dark brown hair falling into her lap just to slightly tickle the palm of his hand.

"You know I'm getting really tired, could we play some upbeat music? Maybe even some Bonnie Tyler, I don't care."

"Please do not speak right now, I am trying to think," she whined through gritted teeth.

"There is no need for thinking, you help me to play with poor Sherlock and that's it. Isn't it obvious?"

Slowly, she lifted her head again. "No, it's not. It has to be something else." She studied his face again, trying to solve the puzzle. Instead, she noticed how pale he was and her heart almost skipped a beat. There was a very thin line between an effective and a lethal dose when it came to Thiopental. She might have overdosed Jim in her eagerness to outsmart Eurus, to outsmart him.

"Just breathe for a moment, okay?" she worryingly demanded. Khalista leaned in closer, placing her right ear near his nose. The fireplace's crackling was louder than his breathing, so she checked his pulse instead. She grabbed the hand that was already laying on her lap and put a little bit of pressure on his wrist.

When she first came closer, Jim thought that she was expecting him to kiss her—he was glad that she didn't. After her thumb pressed down onto his wrist, he realized that she was taking his pulse, not trying to hold hands.

Khalista sighed. "I think it's barely okay. Let's get you into bed, yes?"

"But we aren't done talking about Sherlock yet."

"Sherlock is not important now," she smiled. No, it was more important not to let him die. "Come on, sleepyhead. I'll help you walk."

She lifted him off of the sofa by his armpits before letting him use her as a crutch. He was grinning all the time, but now that grin disappeared, leaving only a dreadful gaze. "If you call me that one more time I'm going to hurt you really bad tomorrow… Well, more than I'd planned to at least. I hope you realize that you're going to pay for this."

"That's why I love Thiopental so much. In just a few hours, you will remember nothing. You're going to have a massive hangover though. As if you just drank a little too much…" Khalista explained, trying to repress her smile. In the end, her plan to uncover Eurus' intentions didn't really work, but at least she had some fun.

"I get why you think your sister wants to kill you."

I know it's a little shorter again, but I hope you don't mind. Thiopental is basically a "truth serum". It's an anesthetic and patients become really chatty before falling asleep. I didn't want to give out too much information about it, just enough to wonder :)