Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock BBC, but I would point out that no one owns the Sherlock Holmes characters or stories anymore. They have aged into the public domain. Yay!

A/N: This was written in response to the prompt:
Sherlock BBC, Moriarty/John, power

Anchor

At first the only sound was their harsh breathing. They had reached a stalemate.

Doctor Watson held Jim Moriarty immobilized. Moran was knocked unconscious and the detective was off looking at Jim's latest gift to him. For now, it was just Moriarty and Watson. Moriarty couldn't move but Watson couldn't afford to let him go, either.

Jim wasn't one for physical violence and he knew that he couldn't overpower the good doctor. Instead he murmured vicious truths into Watson's ear.

Jim told him that he was a failure. The military didn't want him as a soldier any more, the clinic didn't want him as a doctor. His parents hadn't loved him as a son, and his sister thought he was awful as a brother. His flatmate hadn't even considered trying to protect Watson.

"Well? Aren't you going to defend yourself?"

"Moriarty..." Watson paused and then sighed, "Jim, after living with Sherlock, did you really think you could find any weakness that I didn't already know about? But I also know my strengths."

Jim shrieked and thrashed. This wasn't fair. He hadn't been pinned like this since had had been a child. If he couldn't break free physically, he should have been able to break this man intellectually and emotionally.

Watson still held on. His arms were wrapped around Jim, strong and warm, his chest pressed up against Jim's back. When he finally calmed down again, their breaths fell into natural sync.

He was tired. He had been tired for so very long. And there was a comfort to having gone his length, done everything he could, and still find himself held tight in another's arms. His mind seemed calm for the first time in, oh, in years. No plans, no words, no orders, no need for any of them. Watson kept him anchored to the here and now.

He fell asleep, tired but warm, and slept more deeply than he had since he was a child.

When he woke up in goal, it took him not quite an hour to break out, his thoughts whirled like a tempest, and Watson's quiet power to anchor the world was just another reason to hate Sherlock.