His torturer was grinning furiously at him.
At least from the knight's point of view it looked like a grin, his upside down position was starting to hinder his vision as the blood pooled behind his eyes. The chains that restrained his ankles to the ceiling ached fervently, but as always he didn't scream. He fidgeted uncomfortably with his bound hands. Moran was actually asking him questions this session.
How dull.
"What were you hoping to achieve by coming here, Holmes? Why follow me?" The same question for the last hour.
Sherlock's silence remained unchanged. Moran sighed heavily.
"Leave him up there." He said with a lazy wave. He gave Sherlock a small wink. "Think I'll go visit my little Hamish. He was looking rather like rubbish at his saber forms."
Sherlock said nothing.
Moran rolled his eyes, he nodded to his two guards to follow him. "You choose this, Jedi."
Sherlock allowed himself to take a deep breath in. At the very least he knew John was not slacking on his padawan duties. Sherlock's body swung loosely back and forth, he let out a loud exhale.
"You could simply answer him, you know?"
"Of course I know." Sherlock told his visitor boredly. Harriet stepped from the doorway quietly. "But he has already answered my questions. I know exactly where to go from here. Idiot should clean his boots more often." She was glaring at him more fiercely than usual.
What has that wretched child done now?
"We searched the flat for John's bear." She said stoutly.
John, she had been calling the boy by his non-royal name for the last few visits.
"And?"
"I found this." She said coldly, holding out a small holo-orb accusingly. Sherlock's brow scrunched in a scowl. He had forgotten about that, Rica must have planted on him as they left temple. It was meant to stay at his quarters, hidden from John.
"Have you shown John?" He asked coolly.
"No. I assumed you had."
Sherlock said nothing. He rolled his eyes at the idiotic woman.
Sentiment.
Harriet ran her finger over the activation button delicately, the ball glowed with warmth. A small hologram flickered above the orb revealing a grinning Lestrade and a small, unhappy Sherlock.
That wasn't completely true.
Lestrade held him by the shoulders with a stupid grin. Molly, Lestrade's friend, had tried to coax Sherlock into a smile while she took the photo. Sherlock had only been with Lestrade a month and refused to even smirk.
Harriet twisted the orb until the next hologram appeared. Lestrade was laying on his stomach with a smaller Sherlock sitting on the older man's back. Lestrade was laughing, Sherlock had the smallest of smiles.
The next one had Sherlock talking very seriously to Qui Gon. The twelve year old's eyes were shining.
Sherlock was being thrown over Lestrade's shoulder, both men were laughing, even as Sherlock's foot collided with the master's face.
Sherlock and Lestrade shoving each other.
Sherlock and Lestrade in the healer's bay.
Sherlock and Lestrade on the younger's knighting day.
It should have been the end of them.
But another image flickered across the orb.
John and Sherlock were walking through the doorway, both of their backs were turned away from the photographer. John had his bear dragging behind him, and Sherlock's hand was carded through the boy's hair.
Rica had taken it when they were exiting the healer's bay.
The next was John curled into Sherlock's strong chest as the elder lay on a hospital bed. John's head was cuddled into the side of Sherlock's neck, the knight was snoring softly. John's arms were wrapped tightly around Sherlock's upper body.
There was John and Sherlock sitting on one of the temple's many balconies. The child was perched in the elder's lap pointing at stars. For once Sherlock did not look bored.
"When you said you did not love my brother…you lied."
"Jedi do not lie." Sherlock said shortly as he swung. And he never claimed not to love the child.
But he didn't.
Of course not.
Harriet paused. With a long sigh she cut the Jedi down from the ceiling, he collapsed in a heap on the floor. The knight let out a painful grunt, his ribs were smashed from Moran's previous visit.
"You've angered Moran by not responding to his torture." Harriet leaned into the doorway.
Sherlock said nothing.
"You must be in pain." She said softly. The young woman bent to free the dark haired man's hands.
"It is not the worst torture I've endured." Sherlock rubbed circulation into his hands.
"Your back?"
"No."
"Then…"
John.
The child wasn't with him, wasn't smiling shyly at him, wasn't chatting useless knowledge, hoping his master would find it interesting. Being away from the boy was the worst feeling Sherlock had ever experienced. But to answer Harriet's question he shrugged.
"John won't sleep, he barely eats, he acts as though he is dying." She said dejectedly. "He has been locked in the training room for the last three days. He will only speak to me, our father is becoming displeased."
"What do you want me to do, princess?" Sherlock asked snidely.
"Get him to sleep." She said tiredly. "I will bring him to you. He does not have to change anything about his identity if…if you let me keep this." She twirled the orb on her finger.
There was no denying John looked more happy than he ever had in his life in the photos. Even as a child he had seemed miserable, always clinging to their mother. He never wanted to sit in their father's throne, he just wanted to play with his toys.
"There are…the first few holograms are mine." Sherlock said crossly.
"I have given you your choice."
Sherlock's frown lines deepened. There were no other photos of his master that he knew of. As much as he detested sentiment, there were some things he would have liked to have kept. Sherlock released a tired sigh. He was too proud to beg.
"Bring him to me."
oOo
John stumbled into his mater's cell with a barely conscious stare.
"Padawan!" Sherlock snapped as John blinked incomprehensively. The boy was too young to attempt to stay awake for more than a day. The child dragged himself to his master.
"You told me to practice." John mumbled.
Sherlock clutched a thin shoulder in each hand. John gazed at him with unseeing eyes. The knight pulled the child against the firm torso, the boy sagged against it gratefully. It wasn't long before the tears dripped down the boy's cheeks and onto the chest.
"I can't feel you anymore, Master." John cried miserably.
Sherlock wrapped himself tighter around the boy. He nipped the child's ears delicately. "Little one." He began scenting John as the boy collapsed against him. "My little one."
The knight's own pain was great.
They weren't meant to separated. The bond forbade it and when it occurred both parties suffered.
"Master, please." John cried with exhaustion. "I wanna go home."
"That is a coward's statement." Sherlock arranged the boy in his lap. "I won't accept it."
John whimpered. "It hurts, Teacher."
"I think, padawan, what you mean to communicate is an apology for your deliberate disobedience." Sherlock kissed the soft head gently.
"I didn't…I-you knew I wouldn't run."
"Then you made your promise with the plan to deceive me if the situation should arise."
The child cried harder. "What if you got hurt because I wasn't.."
"It is not your job to protect me, padawan." Sherlock said sorely. "You have disrespected my authority as your maser."
"I have honored it, Master." John said at last with the spark of his old self. "I fought for what I believed in, as per your instructions. I did not blindly follow any form of authority, and I have not obeyed any influence I did not trust while I have been here."
"Little one, we will discuss this at length when we return to the temple." Sherlock stroked the boy's back.
The promise of home earned him a satisfied sigh. John snuggled his master as the elder finished scenting. "Our bond is not normal, is it, Master?" John asked quietly. "I have been meditating, other masters aren't as close to their padawans."
"Other padawans are not as young as you, John." Sherlock explained carefully. "You were…you were given to me at a young age to…"
"Master Mycroft told me it was to save you from…" John hesitated. Sherlock remembered their first day. Mycroft had taken John from the room to confront him. "To save you from yourself." John finished shyly.
Sherlock blankly stared down at the boy. With a small sigh he nodded. "You were given to me with every sense of growing attached."
"But the code…"
"Little one, it is unlikely for a master and student to not become attached to one another. The reason you are in pain is because our bond is being blocked. It causes pain for any Jedi. Your age has forced patience and kindness upon me." Sherlock ran his hands through John's soft hair.
John frowned. "When you first…when we first…did you want me, Master?"
"No." Sherlock said truthfully. "That should come as no shock to you, little one."
John sighed, truthfully it hadn't surprised the young boy. "I didn't want you either, Master. You were very unpleasant." John's hand twitched nervously. "I thought you must not like me."
"At first you were a heavy nuisances." Sherlock nipped his padawan's ear. "You still are."
"But a welcomed one?" His padawan inferred gently.
"A welcomed brat." Sherlock confirmed. The child giggled for the first time in three days. He nuzzled his master affectionately. "Barely, of course."
"And you are a barely welcomed pain, Master mine." John began to relax against the familiar bed that was his master's chest. He allowed himself to let sleep wash over him thoroughly, and with a slight, childish yawn he closed his eyes. "I would give much to feel your Force presence again, Master."
Sherlock stroked the young back soothingly. The boy fell asleep gratefully under the elder's careful eye.
"Why is he so much more comforted by you?" Harriet demanded heatedly. "Even as a child he was never this calm."
Sherlock gave a small snort. "He is still a child now. Except no one is abusing him, or trying to turn him towards something he does not want to be."
"He wanted to be king." The princess snapped.
"No." Sherlock said coldly. "He didn't."
John brought his knees to his chest and shivered. Sherlock wrapped his bare arms around the child's small form, but was still greeted with harsh trembling. Harriet handed him a robe and a familiar looking bear. Sherlock enveloped the child in the course material of his robe and was met with a small coo. He reached for the bear, but Harriet withheld it.
"Our mother gave him this." She said angrily. "Proof that he still cares for something from his home."
"The only proof your present, madam, is that a child loves his teddy bear. At the end of the day John is still only a little boy. And now thanks to you he is a very lonely little boy."
"I am his sister." She said firmly.
"And I am his master!" Sherlock roared. "Blood relations are meaningless. My own biological father sold me, my teacher saved me. The Jedi are better than any blood relations you promise." Sherlock pulled John further up his chest to prove a point. The boy cuddled him instinctually.
Harriet glared at him hatefully. Sherlock barely managed to control his increased breathing, John rose with his master's heaving chest. The young woman grudgingly passed him the bear. Sherlock took it carefully so as not to upset John. He laid it under little boy's arm. John gave a dramatic snore and curled into a tighter ball.
His master smirked.
"You are an all-powerful Jedi, can you not simply reach for him whenever you wish." Harriet murmured jealously.
"Your collar is very…restrictive." Sherlock said drily. "Any attempt at use of the Force drains away my life energy."
"He says he can feel you. Sometimes." She said briskly.
"When he is sleeping, or frightened." Sherlock replied easily. "I will never leave him completely."
Harriet's frown lines deepened. "It is becoming harder for you."
The knight said nothing.
"You are dying." She worked out swiftly.
"Keep your voice down." The knight hissed. John didn't even stir, his young face was peaceful with sleep.
"How long?" She said curtly.
"Two days. Probably less." Sherlock ran his fingers over the delicate skin behind John's ear. Goose flesh formed around the base of the child's neck. John wrapped himself tighter around his bear.
"What will become of the pup?" Harriet asked softly.
Sherlock gave her a surprisingly sympathetic look.
"He will be taken care of."
Always.