Chapter 22: Mercurial.

"You were right… It is far better to be feared than loved."

-Linda Woolverton, Alice in Wonderland (2010 movie)

Things were good. They really were. Weeks passed, and things were good, in a chaotic, occasionally bewildering, unexpected kind of way. The flat always held two or three Misfits, whether they were sick, injured, or just hanging around. Sammy occasionally stayed a night between jobs. The clinic was as boring as ever. Jim and John still spent the evenings together, cleaning up, talking about mundane things, Misfits, interesting facts, and anything else that had come up during their day.

Things were good, and that was about all that could be said.

Winter came, cold winds tearing the remaining leaves from the trees, sending them spiraling down the streets. Not cold enough for snow, but cold enough that John was back in his jumpers, which Jim found inexplicably hilarious. Then came that evening. Funny how these things come without warning, like lightning on a cloudless day.

It started so normally. Sammy was on a job, but the rest of the usual gang was there, and John was telling them a story about Coyote, spreading his net for trickster figures farther into different aboriginal communities. Anansi was a popular favorite, but John like switching it around.

Dinner was served, which was the fallback meal of pizza. The kids loved it, and the story. They were especially laughter-filled tonight, which was quite enjoyable as the story teller. Jim was leaning against the couch with Lily sitting on his lap, looking quite at ease amid the yelling kids.

John finished his story, and he and Jim passed out wet clothes for the kids to clean their faces and sauce-stained hands. They trailed off, as usual, but when John turned from the door, he found Leo hesitating behind him.

"What's going on?" John asked, as the last kids made their way past them and out the door.

"Um," Leo looked at the ground, and shifted awkwardly.

"Go ahead, it's fine. What's the worst I could say?"

"Well, I know that Sammy used to help you with the kids who came in. You know, what they needed, whether she could help them herself. And I was wondering if you wanted someone else to do that, you know, now that she's not staying around." John hesitated, considering that.

"That would actually be helpful," he said, thinking aloud. As it was now, every kid called his phone, and he worked out whether they could wait.

"I think it's a wonderful idea, Liam," Jim said from behind John, and that should have been John's first warning that something was wrong. Jim never forgot any of the Misfit's names, unless it was on purpose.

"It's Leo," Leo corrected, finally looking up.

"Don't correct me," Jim said, his voice suddenly silken danger.

"Jim," John said warningly, and he found himself abruptly against the wall, wrists pinned and one hand pressing against his neck. He gasped, surprised. Jim's face was inches from his, black eyes murderous.

"What am I, your pet? You say my name like you control me. Is that what you think, John? You think you have some sort of control over me? That you've put a leash on me? That's what you want to do, isn't it? Say my name and I sit. Say my name and I come. It's not going to happen, Johnny boy!" His voice had risen to a scream, and John pressed back against the wall, scared in spite of himself. "I don't care what you say, or think, or feel. I don't care about you at all, you understand that? You mean nothing."

"I'm not-" John tried to say, but Jim pressed harder against his throat, cutting off his air supply. He choked, trying to breath, staring into the black eyes of Moriarty, the consulting criminal, and wondering if he was going to die.

And then the hand was gone, and Jim had turned away, staring at the floor. John drew a long, strained breath. His throat was going to be bruised in the morning, and he wasn't sure whether he could speak. He reached out and touched Jim's arm cautiously, unable to bear the sudden, tense silence. The next moment, Jim was close to him again, so close that their noses were brushing and their lips almost touched.

"Still the puzzle," Jim whispered, and John felt it rather than heard it, the air brushing against his lips in the shape of words. And then the criminal mastermind was marching away, slamming the door behind him. John felt his knees weaken, and found himself leaning against the wall.

What the hell was that?

The flat was oddly silent in Jim's absence. John breathed deeply, his heart racing and his throat throbbing. The three Misfits left behind were all staring at the door where Moriarty had stormed out. Slowly, they turned to look at John, who did his best to collect himself.

"Yes, Leo," John said, his voice strained but understandable. "That sounds like a great idea. You'll be staying here, then. I can run you through the basics on the weekend, enough to get you started. Thanks for offering." God, it hurt to speak.

"Perfect," Leo said, catching the subject change. He looked around at the others. "Can I do anything now?"

"Nope, we'll just have to get you set up for sleeping. Ed's on the bed, and Ari's on the couch, so you'll have to be on the air mattress, sorry."

"S'okay, that's good compared to usual."

John got all the Misfits ready and into their spots, and then started the long process of cleaning up by himself. In the dark, silent house, the clink and clatter of the dishes were like shots, each sound making him flinch. The soapy water was unpleasant, and the silence weighed heavily on him, usually lifted by Jim's endless chatter, and the laughter of two men having a pleasant conversation. Now it was just him, the dishes, and the coldness made by a lacking presence.

A/N: Hey, I know, it's a pathetically short chapter, but I'll post a longer one tomorrow, I promise. Maybe even two, if you REALLY want them. I would post another today, but I've got a history essay that needs writing. Sorry! Alright, I'll see you next time. Have a good, great, awesome day! And review!