The next few hours blurred in John's mind. He vaguely felt the hot spurt in his mouth and throat, followed by a few satisfied grunts and hisses. The car stopped before too long and he was herded out of it. He watched the ground as he crawled behind Moriarty's heels. He felt tugging occasionally and moved in response to it. He felt hot searing pain in his neck, but it was nothing in comparison to the pit of despair and apathy his heart was thrown into. He barely responded to the pain and the sloppy healing afterwards. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, he'd lost the one thing, the one person, he'd had and now nothing was important. The only thing he heard or saw was Moriarty.
"Oh, my pet, you seem so sad," Moriarty brushed some of John's hair from his forehead, "Perhaps I should bring a friend to cheer you up? Sherlock would certainly cheer you up, wouldn't he?"
At the hidden threat, John jumped and started nuzzling Moriarty and panting much in the way Sherlock had done for him. He eagerly tried to distract Moriarty from any thoughts of Sherlock.
"Oh yes, that's a good boy," Moriarty purred, "Be cheerful for daddy."
John waggled his rear, trying to imitate the dogs he'd seen before. Just a dog, just a dog, he assured himself, allowing a few barks to escape his lips. Moriarty's face had an expression of pure delight on it. John tentatively licked his hand, which caused a loud hiss from the owner of the hand.
"Oh, you are eager, aren't you?" Moriarty smirked, "Such a good pet. I think I'll keep you in my room."
John's enthusiasm didn't waver for a moment. He acknowledged the innuendo, but allowed it to pass through him without raising any fear. It wasn't the first time he'd dealt with such things. He allowed himself to be fully submerged into the character of the dog he now was. Moriarty petted his head for a moment, before tugging him along. As they went down the hallway, John took no real notice of his surroundings. Moriarty tugged him up a rather long set of steps and down another hallway. John followed, watching the ground pass beneath him. Finally, Moriarty pushed open a door and ushered him inside.
"Do you like it, my pet?" he questioned, amusement clear in his voice.
John looked around at the room. It was extravagant. He'd never seen any room quite as lovely in his life. It was all decked out in gold and red. There was a large dresser with a mirror on it that looked a lot like a vanity table, only larger than any John had ever seen. There was a large oak wardrobe that had John briefly thinking of Narnia. There was a plush red sofa like the kind John saw in palaces in the few movies he'd seen. The bed was the worst of it all. It was so inviting and so wonderful that John found himself instantly hating it. It was the type that you knew was soft before ever even touching it. The bedspread was crimson with a gold pattern. The head board and foot board were both carved with amazingly intricate designs. It was one of those princess beds, that had four posters and curtains. John felt sick at the sight of it, wondering how often he would be there.
"I'll take your silence to mean you love it," Moriarty said smoothly, "Because I'd hate to think otherwise."
John felt a whimper start to bubble up in his throat, but he crushed it down. Quit whimpering like a pathetic animal, John! He growled in his mind. He felt Moriarty tugging at him again and followed. He heard Moriarty sit and he stopped his shuffling. He stared at the floor, suddenly realizing how dirty his hands and knees had to be. He shuddered at that and hastily wiped his hands on his trousers.
"What are you doing?" Moriarty demanded.
"M-my ha-hands a-are d-dirty," John managed to stutter out.
"Good!" Moriarty shouted at him, "You're a dog now!"
John felt the sting on his face before he registered that Moriarty was hitting him.
"You are stupid, aren't you?" Moriarty whispered in a low, dangerous voice, "I can't see what Sherlock thought was so enticing about you. Except that wonderful blood of yours."
"He never had it!" John blurted before he could stop himself.
There was another stinging blow and an angry growl.
"You dare talk back to me?!" Moriarty yelled at him, "I OWN YOU!"
John felt the whimper escape before he could stop it. Another blow rained down on his face. His thoughts wildly ran around in his head as more blows fell on his body. What did Sherlock like about me? He never said. He just said he did. Maybe he didn't. Maybe he just pitied me. But I loved him! I still love him! The way he deduced me and smiled at me and frowned and laughed and the puppy ears and the hugs and the kisses. John felt hotness in his eyes and heart as he realized that he would never see Sherlock again. He felt the blows, though they felt like his body had fallen asleep, the feeling was there, but it wasn't pain, it was the feeling you have when your foot is asleep and you take a step. It was fuzzy and distant.
Then quite suddenly, Moriarty's face was in front of his and everything was painfully clear and sharp. He stared into those dark, cold orbs knowing he would never escape. He felt his body begin to ache with the strikes that had been dealt. Once again he heard himself whimpering, suddenly aware that he was fully at Moriarty's mercy.
"Finally, you realize," Moriarty's voice was cold and clear, "That you're going nowhere, my pet."
John stared at his new master with fear and tears in his eyes. Moriarty smirked that icy, hard smirk of his and tugged on John's leash. John moved with the tugs, not sure what would happen next. It became crystal clear as his rear was moved to position in front of Moriarty. John swallowed and allowed himself to be moved and uncovered. He desperately backed himself into the farthest corner of his mind, so as to escape where he was physically being backed into. He felt it all and the sharp reality of it, but he didn't allow himself to shed the painfully hot tears that brimmed in his eyes. Square off those shoulders…
It seemed like years to John, that he was there. Moriarty had attached his leash to his bed and often left him there. John could never tell if it was day or night and he didn't care. He took no notice to the fact he was soon devoid of clothes. He also seemed to never sleep or eat. The time passed in blurred whirlwinds of abuse and rape. John couldn't tell if it had been hours or years. He found it difficult to bring himself to care.
"I'm home, my pet," Moriarty's voice called him from his darkness, "Do you know how long you've been here?"
John didn't answer, because he knew it didn't matter if he did or not.
"Two days, my sweet," his hand was in John's hair, "Two days and already you've given up everything. Tsk, tsk, my love, you would think a boy who had been through so much would have a bit more backbone."
John knew he should give some sort of defiant comment to that, but he couldn't make his indifference go away long enough to make his voice box work. Moriarty seemed pleased with his lack of response. He petted him softly and kissed his cheek.
"You'll grow to love me," he whispered, "Or die."
John allowed his mind to wonder if that was merely a statement or a threat, but it was interrupted by a frantic knocking at the door. Moriarty swiftly left his side, permitting him to float back into his darkness. There was an agitated whispered conversation and the sound of the door being slammed and locked. If John had been with it enough to hear, he would have heard the shouting and thumps, but he heard nothing. It wasn't until a voice was calling his name, did he realize something was going on.
"John! John! Where are you?!" the voice cried to him.
I'm here, I'm right here, his confused mind said.
There was more shouting and thumping, but John heard none of it. There was a crashing sound near him that vaguely pulled him from his abyss. He foggily saw a tall figure hurrying toward him. He felt hands on him, pushing him this way and that. He followed to prodding, assuming it was Moriarty. He felt the tightness on his neck release and something warm encircled him.
"John? Can you hear me?" a sweet voice called to him.
"Yes," John's voice was a mere tremble.
"I'm here, he's gone," the voice called, "I'm taking you home. You're going to be ok."
John's eyes cleared a bit as he looked up to the owner of the voice. He saw raven hair, curling down the side of a pale face. That's not master…his jumbled mind whispered.
"Wh-who?" John's voice startled himself, "Hello?"
Suddenly his mind sharpened into clarity. He felt pain searing all over his body, yet comforting arms wrapped around him. Something heavy and cloth separated him from the body. He looked down to see a familiar dark coat enfolded around him. He looked back up to the painfully familiar face.
"Sherlock?" he dared to ask.
"Yes," the vampire answered.
"No, get out of here," John's voice was weak, "He'll kill you."
"It's ok," Sherlock assured him.
"Ok," John replied, believing him without hesitation.
John felt himself being lifted up. He expected a tug at his neck, but felt none. He reached up to feel the skin there. His fingers found only his skin. It's gone….he smiled at the thought. He realized Sherlock was moving; he felt himself bob up and down slightly and bump against the hard chest of his lover. He settled into the familiar warmth and smell that was Sherlock. He noticed blood on Sherlock's face, but didn't bother to ask why it was there.
They paused for a moment as Sherlock twisted the front door handle. John happened to peek behind Sherlock to see a still form near the base of the stairs. He felt a jolt in his skin as he realized it was Moriarty. Another jolt went up his spine as he saw his limbs were at odd angles and blood was on and around him. He felt his own heart still as he noticed that a piece of wood had stilled Moriarty's. he felt himself smile, as a thought formed clearly in his head: Sherlock won…
Little note: OK my dearies...Two options: 1. THE END, happily ever after. 2. I add another chapter with the battle of Sherlock and Moriarty. It's up to you. And for all of you who reviewed: THANK YOU SO MUCH! Reviews are my food and you keep me well fed. SO, thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you all! And if this is the end, thank you so much for sticking with me and thank you for your support!