Two hours later Sherlock and John entered the pool. They stood at edge looking into the clear water that smelled to strong of chlorine and chemicals. John thought to himself how they had never taken Hamish swimming; Hamish didn't even know how to swim. When this was all over they would all take a vacation and go swimming. He promised himself that.
The door across the pool swung open and Jim Moriarty entered in that same suit, looking so impeccable and wearing that damned smirk! Sherlock wondered if he would stay smiling when he put a bullet in his brain. He wouldn't doubt it.
"Hello boys!" Jim sang "Doesn't this bring back such good memories!?"
Sherlock and John standing side by side stayed silent and still.
"Oh I'm feeling all nostalgic, thinking we met here how many years ago?"
"13 years, 248 days, 9 hours and 32 seconds." Sherlock rattled off with amazing speed.
"Oh Sherlock lighten up!" Jim sang again.
John spoke up, "Where is Hamish?"
"Oh! Yes! How could I forget?!" he said "Hamish! Be a dear and come on out for Uncle Jim!"
The door Moriarty had come out of opened again and Hamish stepped out.
Sherlock and John both let out a breath seeing their child alive, was more that they could ask but then it all was taken back. Looking away from his face he wore a bomb strapped to his chest. Horror was obvious on John's face. He stepped forward but Sherlock grabbed his hand pulling him back.
"Daddy?" he said addressing them both. He began to run for them but Jim, shouted.
"Stay still!" and Hamish froze.
"My god! Your child needs educated boys! Running with a live bomb strapped to his chest, tsk tsk!" Jim said.
Jim motioned for Hamish to walk to him, and slowly he did.
Sherlock looked at his son, his eyes wide with fear and anger. He wanted to pick up his son and shoot Moriarty in the heart. He couldn't decide which he wanted to do more. John held back his emotions , years in the military had helped but… the sight of his son more helpless than ever shot through him. Both holding back tears ,Sherlock spoke.
"What now? What do you want me to do?"
Ignoring Sherlock ,Moriarty addressed John. "John? Would you be a good pet and come here?"
John froze, looking confused. "What do you think the chances of that are?" He said sarcastically. Maybe not the best time for sarcasm but it kept things about 1% less tense.
Jim swiftly pulled a gun and put it to the side of Hamish's head. "Oh I'd say about the same chance your son would have of dying if I pulled the trigger right now." He said laughing.
John and Sherlock both pulled guns out and aimed them at the mad man. Sherlock and John shared a look and John put his gun away.
Hamish looked at them, his big blue eyes wide with fear, tears pricking the corner of his eyes as Moriarty yanked his head back, fingers entwined tightly in his hair.
"No! Wait! Fine, fine yes, I'm coming over, look! Just put the gun down." John said taking slow steps to towards the two.
Jim pulled the gun from Hamish's head and pointed it at John and held it on him until he was standing by his side, then put it away.
Moriarty kept himself between the boy and John, he laughed out loudly. His plan was working out exactly as he had wanted it too!
"Now! Sherlock, be a dear and put the gun away. Be a good sport."
"Take the bomb off of my son."
"Hmmm no., that's not how this game works, You see, you listen to me and every rule I give you and you get your son back, if you don't then well." He started snickering madly, "Hamish Watson Holmes becomes a fire work!"
Hamish whimpered and looked up at John and then to Sherlock , his heart was beating rapidly in his chest.
"Daddy, I want to go home…" Hamish whimpered.
"Oh Hamish, I thought we said no more whining! That's what earned you the black eye." Moriarty sung.
Sherlock and John glanced at their son and noticed he was sporting a nice dark black bruise. John was shaking he was so mad and Sherlock had a terrifying glare on his face, all this anger pointed at the Irish madman.
"HOPE! You don't mind my disciplinary views boys but little Hamish knows how to set me off!"
Sherlock had his finger on the trigger and wanted to shoot him, to make him bleed, to mimic every mark that he had put on Hamish. When he took another moment to look over Hamish, he saw all the deep bruises. He saw the finger marks on his neck and wrists. A gash that would need stitches was on his leg. What had he done to him? He kept the sadness from over taking him and replaced it with rage and he directed it all at Jim.
John's fists were shaking, his face was red, and his breathing was fast. He was holding himself back from tackling Moriarty and beating the accent out of him.
That fuse inside him snapped and before Sherlock could stop him, John grabbed the man by the neck and threw him on the ground and started punching. It felt good to have the bones in his hand connect with the bones in Moriarty's face. He beat until Moriarty's knee came up between his leg and he tossed him off. Moriarty kicked John in the chest and face , he threw his arms up and shouted, "Enough!"
Familiar red dots appeared on Sherlock, John and Hamish's chests and heads. At least five dots on each of them buzzed around them like bugs. John slowly stood up seeing the dots on his son and husband. "Damn" What had he just done. Moriarty's normally cool and calm (mad as hell) look had cracked. His left eye twitched and he had his head cocked to the side. He looked like a predator ready to pounce on the weak prey. His nose was bleeding. Again. His mouth had filled with blood and his cheeks were bruising. Blood had dropped onto his suit jacket and that is what had pushed him over the edge.
"Damn you John Watson! Hamish is most defiantly half yours! This is the second time today one of the Watson boys put blood on my suit jacket and made my nose bleed!"
The air in the room cooled.
Sherlock had held the gun on Moriarty, knowing the snipers were there and had he moved they all would've been shot, so he just held still. Moriarty was beginning to lose interest.
Moriarty gripped John's collar and grabbed Hamish by the hair and held them in front of him.
Jim's hair was out of place, blood on his jacket and he was disheveled. No doubt he had enjoyed the pain but now, he was done with this game.
"Alright! Sherlock, here it is, a choice. A choice that only a brilliant mind like yours can make! Or so I thought! You've become so domestic! You let your emotions take hold and that mind is suffering! Time to harder that heart back up!"
Pulling a small black remote from his pocket his held it to his side and took a step back , no doubt the remote to Hamish's bomb.
He took another step back and he shouted.
"Your choice Sherlock, Hamish or John! Have me put a bullet in John's brain or turn Hamish into ash! All up to you Sherlock !"
A red dot floated in the middle of John's forehead. His heart was beating in his ears, a loud ringing was surging through him. So it was him or their son…obviously Sherlock would choose Hamish, that's what John wanted. His son was way more important that himself.
Sherlock's mind stopped working, had he really just said, John? Or Hamish?
What? No, this just wasn't okay; nothing like this was allowed to happen. His heart beating became the only thing he was aware of. It all was slow motion. He glanced from John, his John. That lovely sandy hair, his eyes…What if this was the last time he saw that face, those eyes boring into his, wait John was looking at him, talking to him.
"Sherlock, it's fine! Just-Just take care of Hamish!" John said, Sherlock was focusing again, he could hear Hamish crying and Moriarty was thinking so loud.
His eyes drifted to Hamish. So small and so young! Hamish was a part of him; he was everything good that Sherlock wasn't. He was part of John and part of himself but yet he was 100% his own person! He had Sherlock's black hair but it was straight like John's. Hamish's eyes were bright blue like his. His nose and smile all John.
His face was wet, why was it wet? Oh…Sherlock was crying.
"Come on now Sherlock no waterworks! You've become so boring! So…normal, you're no fun anymore! Maybe I'll just kill you two and take Hamish!"
"NO!" Sherlock and John shouted together .
"Why not? I'm suuuure Hamish would be an excellent new addition to the crime network!"
Sherlock's mind was racing, John was shaking and Hamish was so terrified he was pale and sick to his stomach.
Suddenly Moriarty shouted, "CHOOSE! Or I will choose for you!" He held the gun to John's head (sniper still on him) and held the remote out towards Hamish.
"Hamish, close your eyes and cover your ears." John said, he did a good job of hiding the fear in his voice, for the 9 year old.
Hamish hesitated, "'Mish, it'll be alright, just listen okay? Hey…I love you alright? Father and I love you. It'll be alright."
Hamish just looked at John sadly and covered his ears sobbing, he still looked at John.
"Daddy?" He sobbed.
John motioned for him the close his eyes and slowly he did.