The formatting on this website hates me... I'm sorry if anything is confusing because of that...

or for any other reason it might be confusing.

Enjoy!

Kinda short... sorry

Three things happened simultaneously. Sebastian stood, pushed John onto the couch, and was across the room in less than a second. The third was Sebastian looking like he wanted to kill someone. John could tell it wasn't aimed at him, but it was still horrifying.

"Get your phone. Call Sherlock." A command… He shakily fumbled to get his phone. But he couldn't get his hands to stop shaking enough to even put in his password.

Sebastian sighed angrily. "Give it here."

John was frozen. Sebastian was so much scarier than the man. He couldn't- Sebastian wouldn't hurt him… right? What would John do if he did? John shuddered when he realized there was nothing he could do against Sebastian.

John didn't know how Sebastian knew his password. Frankly, he didn't care. Sebastian put the phone to his ear, then, mercifully pulled it down and put it on speaker.

" John. Are you okay ?" It was rushed and slightly breathless. John could hear cars rushing by. Why was he outside?

Oh, John thought. He probably is back out on the case.

It hurt. It hurt that Sherlock would have broke his promise… he wouldn't have even been at the flat if John had gone back… and it hurt because that man was right. Because… if he was right about that… was he right about everything else? John couldn't breath. He gasped for breath.

"It Sebastian. He's fine, but you need to be here. I don't care where you are or what you're doing. Here. Now ." Sherlock must had heard the anger or something in Sebastian's voice because John heard the detective say.

" I'll be there soon. " And it scared John. He didn't want Sherlock to come here. The man told John… If anyone found out… John couldn't. The walls were caving in. He stood up. He couldn't be here anymore. He couldn't breath. He couldn't do anything but panic.

"Sit down. " Sebastian snapped at him.

It was an order… But John couldn't… he was going to die if he stayed there. He tried to take a step forward… But Sebastian put a hand on his shoulder, and, surprisingly gentle, shoved John back to the couch.

" Who are you talking to. Is it John? John, I'm on my way. I'll be there in less than a minute. " If it had been anyone other than Sherlock, it would have sounded like panic. Why would Sherlock panic? He wouldn't, of course… Sherlock didn't panic.

John was scared. If Sherlock was already that close, he might have been on his way already.

What if he really did know what the man had done?

What if he wanted the same thing? John would do it… no questions… but he didn't want to… he wanted to at least wait until it stopped hurting… down there.

What if Sebastian was calling Sherlock so they could both do… things to John? John couldn't stay anymore, he knew he wouldn't stop them… even if he wanted to he wouldn't be able to. He just wanted to be able to say no… why was it so hard?

He waited until Sebastian turned his back for a moment and got up and sprinted as well as he could and made it all the way to the door.

He yanked it open and went to keep running, only to knock right into Sherlock. Sherlock stumbled. John wanted to help him, but refused to stop. He went to dodge past the detective, only to be grabbed by the back of his borrowed shirt.

" No ! Let go!" John tried to throw his body out of Sebastian's grip.

This is why baggy clothes are bad for the chase. He thought feebly. Sherlock had taught him that very early on.

"John. What is your problem ?" Sherlock looked like he didn't understand… and John knew that made sense… Why would he?

That was it. It was Just John acting like a spoiled brat. John knew he was just over reacting. It was his fault.

"No. It's not." Sebastian said to John. Could he hear John's thoughts now? Or did he say it out loud? Why wasn't anything making sense? John wanted to scream again.

Sebastian turned to Sherlock, "You need to stop. Speak in a gentle voice and get in here already. We're all going to have a nice chat." His anger still hadn't left his voice but it sounded subdued. He dragged John back in and Sherlock followed.

He set John on the couch.

"Sit. No one is going to touch you as long as you don't try to leave. You get this seat." Then he pulled a chair from the kitchen.

"Sherlock sit next to John. Not close. As far as you can." He then sat himself down and put his face in his hands.

"First off, John, please calm down. I know it's a lot to ask, but no one is going to hurt you. Sherlock and I won't let that happen."

John could barely hold back his anger. "Yes you would! It already did ! I want to go home." But… that wasn't exactly right. He wanted to be 'home' but… but if he went to his and Sherlock's flat he wouldn't view it as home right now. He didn't know what he meant. I just want to feel safe…

"No. We're going to talk. I need to know."

"John, as much as I want to accompany you home right now, I'm afraid this sounds serious. Sebastian is right. What's wrong?" This… this was fantastic. Sherlock didn't know! John could laugh with joy. The man couldn't do anything if Sherlock didn't know!

"Why are you smiling? This is no time for that." Sherlock snapped. John immediately made the smile disappear.

" John. What is going on?" John shook his head. "Answer me." Sherlock was facing him, but John refused to look at him. If he did, he might accidentally give something away.

"No." John would not let them know. He didn't care what they did. He wouldn't tell.

"John, I already know what's wrong. I'll tell Sherlock if you don't. I think it'd be better coming from you though. I know it's hard, and it's not fair, but this conversation has to take place. You have to tell him. It's important."

"No!" John still wouldn't look at either of them. Sebastian had to be bluffing, right? There was no way he knew…

"John, don't make me start figuring it out myself." Sherlock threatened. John was about to stand up to run again, but Sebastian saw the move right before he did it.

"I don't want to have to restrain you, but I do have handcuffs. I'll do it, John. You know I will." That thuarted his plan of escape. He never wanted to let his hands be restrained again. He never wanted to feel that helpless again. His hands above him that man over him holding him shoving his- John shook his head. "No."

"Tell us." Sherlock was facing John still.

"No."

Sherlock turned his body forward. "Sebastian?"

"No! D-don't! You- can't. I-I can't! Why don't you understand ? I can't !" John threw his hands up to his temples, trying to keep the world out… or, maybe, keep himself in.

Why couldn't they get it through their skulls? Why would he willingly keep secrets? Though… he had told a lot of lies recently… But he couldn't help it. They were important to keep from everyone.

"John, you can tell me."

" No , no! I'm not allowed. Stop it!"

"I warned you."

"I'll leave you two alone. When you've told him, or he's figured out, call me back in. We're talking about this. I know it's hard, John, but he needs to know and we need to fix it. This isn't going to happen again." Sebastian made it sound so easy .

Sherlock had turned back to face John. John tried to move his face so Sherlock couldn't see. But to no avail, Sherlock didn't need to see John's face to know he was right. "The first thing is you have what looks to be a slight skin abrasion around your mouth. A cloth tied around with you trying to desperately move it, however, no burns around your wrist, so no ropes… but there are bruises. Vague handprints, it looks like you were-"

"Stop it."

"-Held down, then?" John was starting to panic again. Sherlock was right… of course he was. He couldn't guess though… he wasn't allowed to know!

"My first thought is kidnapped-" John almost gasped in relief. Almost. It wasn't wrong, but it wasn't right. "-But you would simply tell me about that… No, something else, something more." Sherlock steepled his hands. "You're uncomfortable, suggesting it was something personal. Keeping it from me points even more to that."

"Sherlock, please. I- I can't. Please , stop talking." John knew Sherlock didn't need to say it out loud. He was being cruel and trying to get John to spill his guts. Sherlock wanted John to tell and was trying to force him. John was tired of not being allowed to say no.

"-Puffy eyes. You've been crying. More than you would if it were one of the usual things that upset you. So something you haven't been affected by before."

"Sherlock. This is your last chance. You don't want to know." John knew he sounded small… but he was exhausted and everything hurt.

"You're wearing a shirt that's not your own… Much too large. Sebastian's, most likely. You've also recently had a shower, your skin is red and nearly bleeding in places you scrubbed especially hard. You stopped texting me right after you were finishing your second room… so something happened between then and the next time you sent the last text to me… you also walked here. Shorter distance than from here to the school, but your shoes are all scuffed. Drugged? Maybe, but you're cohearent now, no lingering side effects, so that's not it. Limping? More likely. That much was confirmed when you tried to run past me, you held yourself awkwardly. So, limping. Limping why? If my observations are correct, and they are, I'd say-"

"Stop! Just… stop." John didn't want him to say anymore. Sherlock had mercifully stopped his deductions for once.

He was right there at the answer. John couldn't let him stumble over the answer. He didn't want to hear Sherlock say it. He didn't think he could handle it…

"I- well, I can't tell you…" John thought about using morse code… it might take him a try or two to get it out though.

The detective seemed to read his mind. "Tap it." Maybe John had said it aloud…

"Sh-sherlock I can't. I'm trying but I can't say it." If he was going to tell Sherlock, he could say it. He would. Here he goes!

Nothing. No words came out… He couldn't do it.

"I already know what you're trying to say."

John looked down. If Sherlock knew, he didn't have to say it. He shouldn't have to

"Tell me, John."

"Tell you what , Sherlock?"

"Tell me what happened."

"I- Sherlock, do you promise you don't hate me?"

"Never, John." Sherlock's eyes shone with truth… but if that was true, then he didn't know… he would never forgive John. John knew he wouldn't forgive himself. "No lies."

John nodded, trying not to mourn the loss of his friend. There was no way Sherlock would want to look at him ever again, let alone be his friend. "No lies."

John took a deep breath. "…He said his name was Richard Brook… but that's a fake name, anyway, we… well, we had fun… he lied about a lot… in fact, I think most of what he said couldn't be trusted… I- I'm sorry, Sherlock I…" John took another breath to compose himself, but he just couldn't. That's all he could say and even that took a lot out of him. He'd never be able to finish telling what had happened.

The detective seemed to draw his own conclusions. Sherlock's eyes widened a fraction, but he didn't say anything. He still couldn't look at Sherlock's face for any extended period of time. The couch between them seemed to be the best he could manage.

"I-I… I can't , Sherlock. I just can't." John was starting to hyperventilate.

"John. It's okay. You can stop."

"B-but… You wanted the truth. No lies. The omission of truth is still a lie. You say that all the time." John was trying to force himself to say it, but his brain refused to form the words.

"John… This is an exception. You can stop." He looked like his brain was working overtime. John knew he didn't have to say anything else, but he wanted- needed to tell Sherlock. If Sherlock knew what John had done, he may as well know how terrible and disgusting John was now rather than later.

"I… I wanted it to be you…"

Sherlock shut his mouth. Under any other circumstances John would laugh at the fact that he had just shut the great Sherlock Holmes up with nothing but one sentence. John wouldn't really continue if Sherlock told him to stop… just because John wasn't given a chance to say no didn't mean it was suddenly okay for him to take that right away from others.

The apologies were like vomit. He couldn't stop the words and he couldn't make them appear. It was like a purgatory that was closer to hell

But, to John's surprise, Sherlock waited for him to continue.

"… I'm… Sherlock I'm so sorry… I- I-" John broke off. There wasn't anything else he could say anyway. Nothing but to wait for Sherlock to storm out and never talk to him again. Back to the streets… back to the bridge…

"John, I'm not disappointed. I'm not angry with you, and I most certainly do not hate you. You and I will find him. Together, and we'll take him out."

John sniffled. He was too tired to cry more. Everything hurt and he felt so tired. Of everything.

He leaned forward and hugged Sherlock. Sherlock stiffened and didn't move his arms. John didn't care. He needed a hug. He… he knew that kissing Sherlock would be bad… But he still wanted to. If nothing else, to show Sherlock John was grateful for letting him stay silent…

He didn't, and he wasn't going to. He knew it was bad… He shouldn't kiss anyone. Never again. Sebastian's reaction had told him as much. He wouldn't kiss anyone ever again… if he did… he didn't know what would happen.

Sebastian walked back in and took a seat. Sherlock stood up and calmly walked over to him. Then, suddenly, the chair and Sebastian were on the floor. Sherlock had punched him. Hard.

"Sherlock!" John went to jump up, only to crumple to the floor. It was getting to the point where it hurt to move too much to one side, let alone jump up like that.

"Do you see that?" Sherlock pointed at John's prone form on the ground. "That is your fault!"

Sebastian stood up, rubbing his jaw. "I deserved that."

"You're damn right you did." Sherlock hit him again. Sebastian let him, but he didn't go down again.

"And that." He groaned.

Once more for good measure. "Okay, now you're just being rude."

"You're cracking wise at a time like this ? I do not have words clean enough for present company to threaten you with right now." Sherlock was seething.

"I have a twisted sense of humor. Please, sit." Sherlock reluctantly did so after helping John back up.

"John, I'm sorry. I know it means nothing now, but I am." Sebastian was. John could see it. There in his eyes were unshed tears. Not even noticeable to anyone not looking for the truth.

John just weakly nodded. He didn't blame Sebastian. It hadn't even crossed his mind.

"Okay. I'm going to say things. You are going to agree to them." He said, looking Sherlock in the eye. "You need to be around more. I don't feel like he'll be safe here. Especially with me not around," He looked down briefly and to the left. "Which, soon, may be all the time." Then he looked at John.

" You need to stick by Sherlock. I don't think you should be alone at all. Nothing is your fault." John started to pull in on himself. If Sebastian knew, then that man would make sure Sherlock saw the video. John wanted to die. "Hey, look at me John." John tried. He really did, but the world was blurred from tears. "You didn't say anything incriminating to either of us, right? He can't make good on the threats, whatever they may be." John wanted to believe him. He really did.

"So, to recap," He pointed at Sherlock. "Right now, you need him, and you ," he moved his gaze over to John. "Need him right now. And me? Right now, I need a fuckin' drink. Good talk. Let yourselves out."

With that, he got up and walked into the kitchen. Then John and Sherlock were alone in the living room. Sherlock looked down.

John still hadn't looked up.

Sherlock nudged his shoulder and John couldn't help the instinctual flinch.

Sherlock retracted his hand. "Let's go home, John."

Sherlock stood up, waiting to help John do the same. John got up and walked away, towards the kitchen without a word.

He found Sebastian with his forehead against the fridge. "What do you want?" He sounded defeated. He didn't even turn around.

John walked up and hugged him, only for a moment. The next John was at the front door with Leo, pulling on the jacket he stole from Sherlock waiting for said man to follow. Sebastian grabbed Sherlock's arm as he walked past, speaking low so John couldn't hear. "Please, don't come back. For John's safety."

Sherlock ripped his arm from the grasp and nodded. "You needn't worry about that."

The door shut and John fought every step of the way home not to grab Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock asked questions or... tried to talk to him, but John gave vague and absent answers. He couldn't even remember what they had said.

When they got home, John awkwardly walked up the stairs, refusing Sherlock's help. John knew if he let the detective help, he would never get better, never be able to move past this. He had to do this. He wasn't fragile. He could do it. He could and he would. It just sucked.

When they got to the living room, John looked at the stairs to his room, dreading going up more, but Sherlock stopped him before he could take another step in.

"You can sleep in my room."

"But you-"

"I'm on a case. I won't be sleeping. Mine is closer and more convenient."

John nodded. He walked into Sherlock's room, feeling for all the world like he didn't belong there.

He wouldn't make it a habit of sleeping in Sherlock's room, but he had to admit, the bed felt like the softest thing in the world and it smelled like Sherlock. He sat in the middle and laid down only to immediately sit up. He couldn't lay on his back. He'd almost screamed because he forgot he was home and not on his back at the man's house.

He needed time to think about things and piece them together so they made sense. He could do that tomorrow, though.

John tried his side and, while the bed was comfortable, he felt like he'd never sleep peacefully. But it was better than nothing.

John fell asleep, his last thought being of school and how much he really didn't want to go in the morning.

Sherlock was stunned. His John didn't deserve this. He had expected… well anything but this. But, the evidence didn't lie. John wasn't lying. He wished he could force John to tell him the truth so he could find the bastard that did this... but even he knew that would break the child. Richard Brook was all he had to go on. He'd give the name to Mycroft to see if he could find anything more than Sherlock himself could find.

Sherlock didn't know what else he could do honestly. He dealt with criminals and corpses, not victims and certainly not ones of sexual assault. There was nothing he could do for John right now and it was infuriating.

Why would John wish it were him? Did he understand what he was saying?

No, he couldn't possibly. If he did, he wouldn't have said it. He was still so innocent, despite what happened. John wasn't mad at the sketchy man. How did he even find out what happened to John? He couldn't have guessed. John must have told him.

"How did Sebastian know?"

"I kissed him." John said trying to let himself be swallowed into the depths of the jacket. Sherlock wished he would have punched Sebastian a few more times. They walked out the door before Sherlock could rethink letting him off easy.

" What ? Why?"

"I… I can't say it… I'm sorry."

"When we catch the person that did this, you're going to tell me everything."

John didn't say anything.

To say Sherlock was livid would be an understatement.

Sebastian would be lucky if Mycroft didn't have him shipped back to the front lines in an hour.

He resisted the urge to pick John up and carry him, if only to reassure himself John was still there.

When they got back to the flat, Sherlock tired to offer help only to get a snappy reply of "I'm not useless." Sherlock didn't offer anymore help, realizing John couldn't have anyone touch him. He'd break.

When they got to the sitting room, he saw John's eye twitch when he looked at the second flight. He'd offered his own room. John didn't fight as much as he would normally.

Sherlock took a seat on the couch just starring toward his room, thinking about the most remarkable boy he'd ever met tossing and turning right behind the door. Broken. Sherlock wondered if he could help John get better or if it was a lost cause. Even if it were, he wouldn't give up.

It was definitely a night Sherlock would stay up even if he didn't have a case. John would need comfort tonight and Sherlock couldn't just waltz in there and scoop the boy up in his arms anymore.

John would break.

Not even an hour later, Sherlock heard John start to whimper. And... talk?

He couldn't help his curiosity. He got up and moved closer to the door. John wasn't talking. He was begging.

"'m s'rry. Don't 'ell S'erlock. Please. 'm a good boy." Over and over.

Sherlock wanted to pick John up. Wanted to hold him. The thought scared him. Sure, he'd done it before, but he'd never felt anything. It was just 'comfort John so you can get back to work' somewhere it might have morphed into actually caring about the boy... but this was different. Sherlock's chest ached when he even thought about John crying over what happened.

Sherlock knew he couldn't call out to John tonight. John would wake up and would be inconsolable. Instead, he walked back out into the sitting room and grabbed his violin. He played a soft and gentle melody. One of the first he'd learned. John seemed to like it, even if it was dreadfully boring.

John quieted down a few minutes in, but Sherlock kept playing. And then another and one more after that. When he had finished his mini concert, he couldn't hear John anymore. He went and checked to make sure John was okay. When he opened the door, he saw John, sitting up in the bed.

"Sorry, I should have knocked." Sherlock turned to leave.

"Sherlock?" John whispered. "Am... am I a bad person?"

"No John, not ever."

"Not even after-"

"Nothing could make you bad, John. You are a good man." much better than I . He thought.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock."

"You never have to be sorry to me."

John looked like a wilted flower. So... small Sherlock hated it. John had been doing so much better. He wanted to snap at John. Tell him to straighten up.

But John would break, so he didn't.

"Any requests?"

"Um... can you play that one... it's in B minor... by Riding or something...?" Sherlock nodded.

That was not really close to what it was called, but Sherlock knew which one because John asked him to play it when he was in an especially put out mood. He hadn't had to play it in a while, though. It was easy and boring... but he couldn't help but think of John when playing it now, it was slowly becoming one of Sherlock's favorites as well.

His poor John. So breakable. He had to protect John at all costs. John wasn't going to school tomorrow. Or any day after that.

If tonight showed Sherlock anything it was that John was not going to leave his sight for a very long time. If ever again.

He played on, repeating when it was over.

As soon as the door was shut, Sebastian pulled out his phone. It felt small and delicate in his hand. It was a surprise it didn't snap from how hard he pressed the buttons.

The line was picked up on the second ring.

" Sebastian, how wonderful to hear from you. " Sebastian could hear the tiered lilt to the Boss's voice. It wasn't very late… maybe it wasn't tiredness. No… He sounded…. No, he couldn't. If Sebastian didn't know exactly who he called, he'd say the voice sounded remorseful… but, that wasn't right either. The boss sounded frustrated. Why?

"Where are you. I need to have a word with you."

" I thought that's what we were doing. I'm afraid I have to- " Trying to hang up…? That wasn't the Boss at all. He talked constantly.

"Shut up. I need to see your face. I'm so angry and I'd really like to not break another phone. Tell me where you are. Now ."

" Oh, I get so tingly when you take control like that. " Half hearted. Now he really needed to be face to face with his employer. Maybe he was just hearing things.

" I'm at the prison again. Just laying low. I'm not leaving again today, so if you need to, you'll have to come here. " Not even a riddle. Sebastian would go, alright. He was nearly out the door before the Boss finished the sentence.

"I'm on my way now."

" Take your time. I'm sure I have an idea about what this might be about. " The boss hung up. Sebastian couldn't help wondering if the Boss was okay. Even if he did want to rip his head off.

Sebastian sighed. He'd see soon enough.

Jim dropped the phone in his lap and threw himself back in the chair. What was happening to him? He didn't even understand. It was infuriating. 'Why' wasn't even half as important as 'what' or, bloody hell, even ' how '. He needed a second opinion… but he didn't have those kind of contacts… Even if Sebastian wasn't coming to kill him, he'd never ask him for help.

He had only one option. He brought the phone up to his face pushing random buttons until they did what he wanted.

The call rang out. He growled and called again. It was only on the fifth ring of the third call that the line was open. Jim was pissed that he'd been ignored so long.

" Jimmy, darling. This better be very good. I'm in the middle of a session. " Jim could hear muffled cries and snaps of what was most likely a whip.

"Irene. I seem to be in a spot of… romantic trouble. I'll call back later if-" All noise stopped.

" No! I suddenly became free. Please, go on. "

"Confidentiality?"

" My job, dear. "

"Scouts honor?"

A laugh came from the other end. Jim would have grinned at hearing it, had he not been so angry.

" Yes, now, get on! "

"I had my eye set on a certain specimen. Lovely little thing, very cute, young, screams beautifully ." Jim could only relish in the memory of John writhing in pain and pleasure under him. "I tricked him, fucked him. It was glorious. I've blackmailed him into keeping it going… I got exactly what I wanted but I feel… off. Why?"

" Was it consensual ?"

"By law? No. Did he want it? Well, also no… I said young, didn't I?" Jim snapped. He wished the damned woman would just help him out.

" So you tricked a kid into having forced sex and you want to know why you feel 'off'? " She chuckled.

"That's what I said isn't it?" It came out as a growl. "I've done it before… more than once. Why is it different this time?"

" Have you thought about the possibility that you might be getting soft? " He could hear the smirk.

"Not soft enough to let you forget my threat about skinning you alive, dear."

" Well, maybe you've fallen for the kid. " She was unphased by the threat.

"No. I couldn't have. You do check your caller ID before you answer, right?"

" Yes, love. I didn't think it was possible, but this kid may have finally cracked the ice on your heart. "

"I don't have one."

" And now, you do . Congratulations. Welcome to the land of mortals. "

"What do I do?"

" Well, for starters, stop raping children. "

Jim scoffed. "They weren't all children. Not all of it was forced." If things went his way, he wouldn't need anyone else. His Johnny would be all he needed.

" Is that supposed to make it better?"

"I don't care. Be serious. I'm about to have a very angry right hand man confront me. I really would like it to end amicably. It's so hard to find good help these days." He hoped she got the hint.

" Alright, alright. First, make sure to apologize. You did something wrong, whether you care or not. " Jim wondered if that's what he was feeling… was this guilt? No. It couldn't be. He didn't regret what he'd done. He just, maybe wished Johnny wouldn't have been hurt… as much.

" Next, if you truly want the kid to like you, show that you aren't completely heartless. I know you're not, or you wouldn't have bothered with this call. " Jim wanted to argue, he really did, but he didn't want to cut her off.

" If you want the kid, you have to make them want you. "

"Make him want me… how?"

" Show affection. But only after he feels okay to be around you again. Coming back from being fucked for the first time by someone you were tricked by isn't something you just bounce back from. Don't be yourself too much, especially at first. You might scare him away… and that's if you haven't already ruined your chances with the stunt you pulled. Get him a present. Don't go overboard. "

"Wait- ' if '? You mean, there isn't a guarantee I can get him to want me willingly?"

" Sorry, love. That's what happens when you act before you think. "

"You've given me a lot to think about. Thank you."

Irene gasped. " A thank you! My, this kid must be special. "

"He is." Jim sighed. His Johnny was special.

" Call me if you need anything more from me darling! We don't talk nearly enough. "

The line went flat.

He just had to wait for Sebastian to yell his frustration out. Sebastian wouldn't betray him. He was too loyal, but Jim knew his right hand man could hold a grudge to the grave.

He sighed.

"This was supposed to be easy."

But was it ever?

Sebastian walked in, bypassing security. They couldn't have stopped him anyway. He found the Boss's cell quickly.

The Boss was sitting in the chair. He smirked when he saw Sebastian. Sebastian crossed the small cell and punched his Boss in the face. Not as hard as he could, but it would definitely leave a mark.

The Boss didn't even cry out. "I probably had that coming." He reached up to feel the blood around his nose. It wasn't broken, but it would smart.

"I can't believe you. I have never been so fucking furious in my life." He faced the bars, not able to look at the man. He didn't worry about leaving his back open. The Boss wouldn't be able to get the jump on him if he tried.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You don't even-" Sebastian turned around. "Wait- what?"

"I. Am. Sorry." The Boss articulated every word.

"No. You can't be." Sebastian knew the Boss wasn't capable of feeling remorse, he'd done far worse without batting an eye…

"I didn't think so either." He shrugged.

"Stop lying."

He grinned. "Funny when you make a living out of lies that telling the truth gets you called a lier. I'm not, for once."

"I'm going to quit."

The Boss scoffed. "No, you're not."

"Want to fucking bet?" Sebastian started to walk out. Let them come. He'd go out swinging.

"If you leave, who will protect Johnny boy from little ol' me?"

"Sherlock, Mycroft, that D.I. guy. The list is actually pretty long."

"Oh, darling Tiger, we both know they'll never know what hit them." His voice was deadly low. Sebastian had known the man long enough to know he was about to start yelling if he didn't get his way.

"Then I guess it's one or the other. You have to choose between killing me or leaving John alone."

"Aw, are you jealous?"

"No. I will not work for you when I know this is what you've done. Really, what's to stop me from killing you, right now?" Sebastian took a threatening step further.

"I'm sure you could… Buuuut, you know how much of a mess that would leave. I'd like to see you try to clean it up by yourself."

"I could go to Mycroft. Spill all of your secrets."

"Then do it !" He raised his voice. Sebastian knew him well and that's why he knew he couldn't keep working for this man. "Leave."

"I refuse to work-"

"I won't touch the kid again."

"You… that easily?"

"Do you want me to keep fighting? I don't want to have my best man killed because of something I could fix."

Sebastian couldn't understand. The Boss was never this compliant… He had something planned.

"Shake on it. Swear it to me or I will quit and you will be my next target."

The Boss stuck his hand out without hesitation.

"Pleasure doing business with you. Give my regards to my Johnny."

And just like that Sebastian was walking out. When he was in the car park, he looked around and cursed. "Damn it! That fucking- I can't believe I let him do that!" The Boss had just talked himself out of a very slow and painful death, as well as getting Sebastian to swear to keep working for him. And he didn't even say no talking or seeing… he said no touching. Sebastian knew the Boss could do just as much, if not even more , damage without using his hands. He fucking prided himself on it.

And he had sworn his loyalty to the monster.

"Bloody hell." Sebastian put his hands on his head and breathed deeply.

He walked home. He had school tomorrow, but god help him if he actually wanted to go. Documentary, for sure .

If he had to deal with anyone right now, or any time soon, they would not survive the encounter.

He hadn't even gotten a full block away before he realized he was being followed. Good he thought. I'm just itching for a fight . Another two before the car pulled up next to him, parking. He clenched his fists, ready to take the first swing. This was hardly the first time someone had tried to kidnap him. No one had succeeded, though.

But who got out of the car caught him off guard.

"Mr. Moran, if you'll come with me."

Mycroft Bloody Fucking Holmes .

Uh-oh!
I'm sorry... I don't know how to end chapters normally anymore... They're all cliffhangers...
Don't worry, I hate me too.
(ps the first song Sherlock plays, in my mind, was Air on the G String by JS Bach and the one John requests is Concerto in B Minor O. Rieding, Op. 35 - 1 Movement, the other ones he played I didn't really have anything in particular in mind... it's up to you what he played!)
See you all next time!

(I'm gonna post one more capter tonight then you all will be as caught up as the other site...)

Xoxo
~Miss Taken