"Oh, Jim." Mycroft said. "You look a bit put out. Are you not having a good day?"
"I swear that when I get out of here, I am going to make it my mission to ruin both you and your brother." Jim growled.
"Good luck, Jim." Mycroft said smugly. "Greater and smarter men than you have tried and failed."
"You can't just keep me here." Jim practically shouted.
"Watch me." Mycroft said looking around the small room. "I haven't the faintest clue as to why you don't like it here. You've got everything you could possibly want."
"I've been in this room for six months!" Jim raged. "With nothing to do except avoid answering your inane questions!"
"You could always answer those questions." Mycroft shrugged. "We might even be willing to get you a television if you answer them."
"What do you want to know?" Moriarty slumped against the wall.
"Tell me how far your little organization reaches." Mycroft said. "I know you have your dirty little fingers in more than just drugs. Tell me what else you have going on."
"Why?" Jim growled.
"Because your organization is self-sufficient." Mycroft answered. "It functions successfully on its own even without you present. I want it completely disassembled."
"It's meant to be self-sustaining." Jim answered. "That's the genius of it. There's no one piece that if removed with destroy the web."
"So, tell me how to destroy it." Mycroft demanded.
"Why?" Jim giggled. "Is it becoming annoying?"
"Tell me and I will get you a television." Mycroft cajoled.
"No deal." Jim shrugged. "I like making you sweat."
Mycroft grimaced before walking out of the room. He quickly made his way back to his home feeling a heavy weight on his shoulders. Moriarty, the boy, was little more than a creep. But his organization, Mycroft had to admit, was a finely run machine. It was elegant which made Mycroft grate his teeth in annoyance. If they had any hope of containing the bricks of cocaine being shipped into London on a weekly basis, they had to cut the head of the beast.
He doubted Sherlock was even aware of how far Moriarty's reach extended to. Mycroft had done extensive research into Jim Moriarty after Sherlock was sent to the rehab facility. He could almost kick himself for letting him go that first time. If he'd known then what he knew now, he'd have arrested Moriarty over a year ago. It seemed Moriarty had one weakness and if Mycroft had done his job properly, he could have exploited it then. It was unfortunate that that weakness was his brother. Moriarty had been obsessed with power. Obsessed with being smarter than anyone else and the only person who had ever come close to being intelligent enough and stupid enough to challenge that superiority was his brother. Sherlock had walked right into that twisted little game with Jim. He gave Moriarty everything he wanted by submitting to him sexually and being dependent on him for drugs. Moriarty would have ripped his brother apart bit by bit if John hadn't come along and traipsed all over their little game.
He strode into the kitchen feeling a stress headache pounding between his temples viciously. He pulled out his hidden stash of licorice and slumped against the table letting his mind flip through a variety of solutions to his problem. If he couldn't get to the organization through Jim, he'd have to start all over again. The frustrating thing was that he had the resources, the man power, the intelligence. He just didn't have a starting point.
He sent off a flurry of texts to his subordinates before heading upstairs to bed swearing vehemently to hire an assistant tomorrow. He didn't have time to be constantly sending texts back and forth. He found it tedious.
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His phone pinged several hours later, but he was awake instantly. He glanced at the message and felt his blood run cold.
Security Code Yellow
He was out of bed quickly and racing for his closet. He threw on a suit, grabbed his umbrella, and hopped quickly into the car already waiting outside his house. The driver sped toward their destination and he jumped out the minute the car jerked to a halt. He strode past the agents and officers walking quickly down to the supposedly secure cell. He glanced from corner to corner taking in all of the relevant data and piecing together a picture of what had transpired. He gestured toward one of the MI6 agents to give him an analysis.
"Your name." Mycroft said quickly.
"Patricia, sir." She said deftly before continuing on. "One agent, Samuel Moran, was on duty when the sensors and alarms went off. Agents found both James Moriarty and Samuel Moran missing and all three security measures disassembled expertly. Experts have since completed a background check on Samuel Moran and found his identity falsified. He was transferred to this detail just a week ago but had been working in a separate department for the past six months. It is assumed that he aided James Moriarty in his escape. CCTV camera footage is being gathered and analyzed now, sir."
"I want all relevant footage relayed to me remotely." Mycroft said firmly. "I need a security detail in place for Sherlock Holmes, Anna Holmes, and John Watson. Level three should be sufficient."
"Yes, sir." She said making a note quickly in her Blackberry.
"Was any note or message left in the room?" Mycroft asked. "Moriarty seems the type to gloat."
"Only this, sir." She said holding out a piece of paper. "It's been copied. The original document is being analyzed."
He grabbed the paper and read over it letting a frown settle over his features.
Now I get to watch you squirm.
Mycroft turned away and made to exit the room before a thought struck him causing him to turn back to the agent. "Is that your real name?"
She grinned wryly and shook her head. "No, sir."
"How would you like a promotion?" He asked, smiling.
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"I got in!" John shouted. "Debbie, I got in!"
His aunt ran into the room to see what he was shouting about and shrieked as he thrust the acceptance letter into her hands.
"John!" She said happily. "This is so exciting! Oxford! I'm so proud of you!"
"Thanks!" He said. "I better call Mum."
He left her a message on her voicemail before turning back to his aunt and drinking in the proud smile on her features. She pulled him into a hug and they giggled helplessly for about ten minutes.
"Grab your coat!" She said happily. "We're going to celebrate."
"Let me call Sherlock." John said. "See if he wants to come."
She nodded before heading to her bedroom to put some shoes on. He dialed the number quickly and sighed impatiently as it rang several times before switching over to voicemail.
"Answer your phone, you git." John giggled. "I got in! I got in to Oxford! Call me back so you can come celebrate with me and Debbie."
He hung up and called Molly as well. It seemed no one wanted to talk to him today because she didn't pick up either. He left a voicemail for her and Lestrade after that. They left the flat and went out to dinner at a little Italian place down the road. They were halfway through their dinner when his phone chimed. He glanced down to read the text from Sherlock feeling a grin settle across his features.
Knew you would. We'll celebrate properly tonight. My place? 8:30p? SH
He replied quickly with an affirmation returning to enjoy his dinner with Debbie. They indulged in a delicious apple crumble with freshly whipped cream. They talked about his plans for the upcoming summer and everything that he would need prior to starting classes. It was close to 8:30p when they were done so Debbie got him a cab to get to Sherlock's. She hugged him before he climbed in and said how proud she was of him again before gesturing for him to get going. He grabbed for his ringing phone assuming it was his Mum.
"Hello." He said happily. There was no answer. "Hello?"
He glanced down at the caller ID to see the words Blocked Number before bringing it back up to his ear and trying again. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
He shrugged and hung up. He put the call out of his mind as the cab pulled up to Mycroft's house and he hopped out. He let himself in (Mycroft had insisted that he not bother with ringing the doorbell) and froze at the yelling voices drifting out of Mycroft's office.
"Did you honestly think I wouldn't notice?" Sherlock shouted.
"It doesn't matter if you noticed or not," Mycroft said firmly. "The detail isn't going to go away."
"They will go away, Mycroft." Sherlock answered angrily. "But that's not the point of contention here. Why did you suddenly put me on a security detail?"
"That's above your pay grade." Mycroft said haughtily. "All you need to know is that it's for your own good."
"My own good?" Sherlock shouted. "I don't need protection from your petty political enemies."
"They're not my enemies." Mycroft shot back.
There were no sounds for several seconds and John shifted in the entryway unsure of what to do.
"Mycroft," Sherlock said icily. "What did you do?"
John never did hear the answer to Sherlock's question because the doorbell went just seconds after. He flinched at the noise and tried to melt against the wall as both Holmes brothers walked out into the hall and saw him standing there. Mycroft recovered first moving past John to answer the door but the looks that both men gave him made his skin crawl with apprehension. The elder Holmes led a petite woman back into his office and shut the door firmly breaking the trance over the younger men. Sherlock took three giant steps forward drawing John close and kissing him deeply pushing him against the wall. He grabbed at John clinging to him desperately claiming him with his tongue and teeth. The shorter boy drew back a bit to catch his breath and study the taller boy with concern.
"What's going on, Sherlock?" He asked apprehensively.
"Nothing." Sherlock whispered. "Just family stuff. Come with me. We're supposed to be celebrating."
He let Sherlock lead him upstairs to his bedroom glancing at the newest experiments on his boyfriend's worktable as the taller boy excused himself for a moment. Sherlock returned several minutes later looking a bit more composed but still terribly disconcerted.
"Are you alright?" John said drawing close and running his hand through those dark curls that he loved so much.
"I'm fine." Sherlock answered leaning into the touch. "Tell me about your day."
They curled up together on Sherlock's bed and caught up on the past few days. When they kissed, it felt desperate and needy. John felt the anxiety in Sherlock and tried to reassure him as best he could meeting Sherlock's demands giving more and more to try to ease the taller boy's discomfort but by the end, they were both unsure and nervous.
"I'm sorry, John." Sherlock whispered into the shorter boy's shoulder. "This was supposed to be a celebration."
"Are you sure that you don't want to tell me what's going on?" John asked for the third time. "Maybe I could help."
"No." Sherlock huffed out. "Mycroft and I will take care of this."
"Okay." John said hesitantly.
"I love you." Sherlock said firmly.
"I love you too." John replied feeling a strange weight settle in his stomach.
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Sherlock kissed John once more before watching him hail a cab and head back to his aunt's flat. He felt something dark skitter across his chest to clamp firmly around his heart as the lights of the cab retreated down the street. He turned quickly and stalked towards his brother's study. He didn't bother knocking, interrupting Mycroft and his new assistant discussing a state dinner being held next month.
"Tell me everything." Sherlock said angrily.
He listened silently as his brother laid out the events of the past three days. Of Jim's arrest six months ago and his extensive criminal network that Mycroft had been attempting to disassemble over the past year and a half. Of his recruitment of Samuel Moran, his escape, and the message left at the scene.
"You think he'll come after me?" Sherlock asked after digesting all of the facts.
"I think you're his weakness." Mycroft said firmly. "I don't think he'll have a choice."
"What about John?" Sherlock asked.
"It's a possibility, but unlikely." Mycroft answered. "He's determined to best you, Sherlock. To lord over you. A direct approach will give him more chance of that."
"So what's the plan?" Sherlock replied.
"That's above your pay grade." Mycroft answered.
"I've been assisting in your little cases for months now." Sherlock said firmly. "I'm more than capable of assisting in this matter, in fact I insist on it. I'm the best person for the job considering the hold I have over Jim already. You need me, Mycroft. And you know it."
"I can't give you a timeline for when this mission will wrap up." Mycroft answered. "It could take weeks, months."
"I don't care." Sherlock said firmly.
"And what about John?" Mycroft asked quietly.
"I'm doing this for John." Sherlock said vehemently. "Once Jim is out of the way for good, then he'll be safe."
"Will you tell him?" Mycroft said.
Sherlock stared at the ground for several minutes before meeting his older brother's gaze steadily. "No, this isn't a burden he should have to carry. This is my problem. I'll solve it myself."
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JIM! Seriously though, don't hate me.