The gag was still in his mouth, John looked across the floor at Sebastian and gave him a miserable look. He wanted to say he was sorry. This was all his fault. He should've just stayed up and done the chores. He would've been okay with no sleep for a couple of days, and now Sebastian was getting punished for it. John blinked back tears, not for his own pain, but for Sebastian's pain. Pain he'd caused him. He paused for a moment, considering what he was about to do, then started making noise into the gag, wanting to get Jim's attention. He needed to say something, and Sebastian wouldn't like it.
Jim sat up in annoyance, looking down at John. "What? You want some more, you miserable piece of shit?"
John pleaded into the gag. Please...just let me say something...
With a huge, annoyed sigh, Jim got out of bed, struck John across the face, then finally unbuckled his gag. "Well, what is it? Out with it. It better be good, Johnny, because Daddy's quite tired tonight."
John looked up at him for a moment, his eyes still wet and said, voice raw, "...I want to go Thailand..."
Sebastian made a muffled yell from behind his gag. John couldn't! He had no idea how much worse it would be there. Meanwhile Jim was staring down at him in shock. He had given him the choice, after all—he'd just never expected John to agree to it. He raised his eyebrows, looking down at John and realizing that John was completely serious. Idiot.
Jim's voice turned smooth and pleasant. "Very well, Johnny, I'll get the tickets. Just bear in mind that there's no coming back from there, you understand. And with you gone and out of the way, there will be no reason for me to lay off Sherlock, or anyone else close to you if they happen to fall into my larger plans. I suppose I don't blame you. It would be easier, going off far away from it all, being ignorant to what really happens to those you care about. And Sebastian..." Jim ran his foot over Sebastian's face, and Sebastian cried out, struggling on the floor. "What fun we'll have. No more splitting all the fun between two people. Sad, I suppose, but I'll get used to it. I've rather liked having a slave to order around. Maybe I'll just demote Sebastian to fuck toy and find another sniper so I can ruin his body every night. It's time we took that step in our relationship, don't you think, Sebby?" he cooed. Tears were leaking from Sebastian's eyes as he writhed in pain on the floor. "I'll call for a ticket right now, Johnny." Jim lightly stepped over Sebastian.
"No..." John breathed, looking frantically over at Sebastian. Of course Jim wouldn't make it that easy. He wasn't going to let Sebastian suffer even more. "No—no, I'll stay—" he choked out, his eyes locked with Sebastian's for a moment. "Just—please! Please don't hurt Sebastian anymore," John sobbed.
Jim raised his eyebrows, smirking. "And why do you care?"
"I love him," John murmured out, unable to think of any lie for the question. Well, there goes that. He'd taken Sebastian's advice, he supposed. Jim could hardly consider that little confession boring. And, as far as Jim knew, this was completely one-sided. As soon as that thought this, he started desperately rambling on. "Please—just stop hurting him—it wasn't his fault, it was mine—I know he doesn't love me, but I still love him, please, master! Please just help him up! I seduced him," John practically yelled, tears streaming down his face. "I—I wanted him to want me," he sobbed, his body raking, "but...but he doesn't." As John choked it out, it sounded like a complete mess. Appropriate for the context. He hoped Jim believed it. John would believe himself. "Please..." John breathed, his watery eyes turning up to Jim, pleading.
Jim looked down at John in shock and surprise for a moment, then began laughing, quietly at first, then throwing his head back. "Well, now. THIS is a game-changer, isn't it, Johnny? Ohh, how it must torment you that Sebastian used and abused you...and you still love him? See, this is why ordinary people are so adorable. They're idiotic enough to fall in love, and the consequences are always hilarious."
Sebastian closed his eyes, unable to believe what John had done to himself. He swallowed back his tears and lay there, wanting to yell out the truth, unable to bear it. He bit hard into his gag and lay limply, unable to bear any of it anymore.
"I bet you liked it, didn't you, when Sebastian took you for himself? It made you think that he wanted you still, that he felt anything for you at all besides disgust mixed with base animal lust," Jim said. "Ohhh, Johnny. I'm glad you decided to stay. Life is far less interesting without you." He stepped over to John and kicked John onto his stomach, then reached down to untie John's arms and ankles. "Go clean yourself up, then get into bed." He looked down at Sebastian. "I think you'll stay there for now, Sebby. Put Johnny in torment seeing his One True One-Sided Love trussed and in pain on the floor, you understand." Sebastian didn't respond other than a low, weak moan.
"No…" John said through his tears. "Please—please don't leave him there, I'll do anything! Anything you want, please! Just let him up. Let me take his place, please!" John cried.
"You'll do anything?" Jim asked. "Anything at all?" Sebastian made protests from the floor. He'd been in worse pain—although it was hard to think of those times right now. He wasn't going to let John do something stupid on his behalf. "Very well," Jim said, smirking. "Go untie him and take up your usual place on the floor. I'm sure he'll be touched by the gesture," Jim smirked.
John hurried over and as gently as he could, rolled Sebastian off of the sheet and untied his wrists. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, sir," John murmured over and over. As soon as the other was free, he went to go kneel by the door.
"Well, into bed, Sebastian," Jim said as Sebastian pulled off his gag. "Isn't it nice to feel loved?" Sebastian felt sick to his stomach. If he showed any sort of concern for John now, everything would be over. He tried to stand up and fell back onto the ground, too weak to move. "Can—can I just stay here, Jim?" he asked tiredly. "I don't think I can make it up."
Jim rolled his eyes and chucked a pillow at him. "If you want a blanket, you can get it yourself. Try not to bleed all over my floor."
John felt a wave of relief crash over him. Sebastian would be okay. As long as he was permitted to clean his wounds and remove the glass soon, everything should be fine.
"Mmm," was all Sebastian could manage, and although he didn't think he'd be able to sleep, his body took over and shut down, pitching him into a deep, dreamless sleep, away from pain for a brief while.
John watched as Sebastian's eyes slid shut. Good. He needed rest. John hated himself for having caused Sebastian all the pain he was in. That's all John ever did. Maybe he really should just let Jim break him. Everyone, including himself, would be better off. John felt the hope that he had had from this weekend slowly draining away.
In the morning, Jim got up promptly with his alarm clock. "Clean up the blood, wash the sheets, patch up Sebastian and get him lying somewhere comfortable so he can recuperate. Cook me poached eggs on toast, and if you do it all promptly we'll forget all about that little incident last night." Jim stood up and started dressing, then left to catch up with work.
John had stayed kneeling in his place the whole night. He'd taken a couple short naps leaning against the wall. When he stood, he was sore and stiff, but he quickly worked out the kinks and went over to Sebastian. He gently shook him awake. "Sir? I need to clean you up, come on." John stood from where he had been squatting and helped pull Sebastian to his feet, and then into the bathroom. His back looked horrible. The slivers of glass were too tiny to pull out. He'd need to put Sebastian in a bath with some Epsom salts, taking a break to cook for Jim, clean the blood, and throw the sheets into the washer.
Sebastian slumped against the tub, feeling John's warm hands against his back. He heard water running in the tub behind him. "John—" he started weakly. He hurt so much. He squeezed his eyes shut. "You idiot," he finally managed out.
John just pursed his lips and didn't say anything, just continuing to fill the tub and pour some Epsom salts into the water, letting them dissolve. "Get in the tub and it will make your back feel better. I'll be right back, I need to cook for Jim. Here." He handed over two painkillers. "Take these while you wait." John hurried from the room. He bundled up all of the sheets and rushed through his tasks, starting up the wash, carefully cooking the meal and hastily making sure it was perfection, then wasting no time in carrying it to Jim's office. Luckily, Jim was on the phone, and all he did was narrow his eyes threateningly at John, before he hurried back up to Sebastian.
Sebastian's whip wounds had started up their bleeding again, and the bathwater was now a sickly pink color. "John, do you have any idea what you've done? Do you know how much more horribly I'm going to have to treat you now that Jim knows that you love me?" he murmured. "And how the fuck could you offer to go to Thailand? If you left, I would kill myself, John. That's not a threat, it's a fact," he said. His voice was bitter and full of anger, but not toward John so much as toward the whole fucked-up situation.
"I'm not sorry," John said in a voice barely a whisper. "I couldn't let him keep hurting you." John swallowed as Sebastian sat up, baring his whip-striped, glass-reddened back.
"Well, guess what he did before I ever met you, John? Where do you think I got all these scars? The war?" He laughed bitterly. "I'm used to it, John. Being a martyr's not going to do an ounce of good. Think next time!" he growled in frustration.
John flinched a bit, but didn't say anything else. He didn't care if Sebastian was mad at him. All the better, in fact. Then Sebastian wouldn't have to pretend like he didn't care for him.
Sebastian sighed and closed his eyes as John's unwavering hands tended to his back. "I am touched, though, John," he said softly after a few minutes' silence. "That you would suffer willingly for me. Nobody else would ever do that. I'm not worth it..."
"Don't say that," John murmured, re-cleaning Sebastian's whip marks with something that he hoped would help them heal faster.
"I would die for you, John, if that's what it took," Sebastian said softly. "I love you so much," he whispered.
"Don't be silly," John said. If Sebastian died, John would die to. It would pain him to die and leave Sherlock, but he had already left Sherlock. He wondered if Sherlock even noticed his absence. The man had been known to talk to John even when John was absent for days.
Sebastian winced as the wounds were cleaned. "You're the doctor. How long does it take for whip marks to heal?" he asked. He'd been caned before, beaten with a riding crop, but never whipped.
John pursed his lips. "This is hardly something I treat on a regular basis...but I would say that they should scab up in a matter of days, then...a month? Some will take longer than others, the ones that are much deeper. I'll have to stitch up four of them."
"Mmm," Sebastian frowned, not liking the sound of that. He let John work silently for a bit longer. "Remember the last time you stitched me up? Just after we'd found out who we were really were? And I came into the clinic and there you were...and you stitched me up anyway." He grinned at the memory. "And I left you with the biggest hard-on when everything was finished," he laughed softly.
John gave a little chuckle. "How could I forget? That wasn't very considerate of you." He grinned at Sebastian's back and shook his head lightly. He'd give anything to go back to how things were before Jim had gotten involved in this whole mess.
"I'm a bit of a bastard," Sebastian said, wondering when he'd last heard John laugh. He missed it so much. "Bet you're regretting getting mixed up with me in the first place."
John gave a little huff of amusement and disbelief, more at himself, than anything. "I should, shouldn't I? But I don't regret it. Not at all." He grabbed the curved needle and thread from the medical kit and began to start sewing him up.
"Why not?" Sebastian couldn't help but ask, flinching a little as the needle went in.
"Because I love you," was the only response John could think of that made any sense.
Sebastian reached blindly behind him with his hand, seeking John's. "John...despite all of this, you have made me happier than I've ever been in my life, and I wouldn't take back any of it," he said, blinking back tears. "You've made me a better man...even though Jim forces me to a be a horrible one."
John squeezed Sebastian's hand and flexed his jaw. He leaned his forehead of Sebastian's shoulder for a moment before he lightly kissed the back of his neck. "I don't care what he makes you do to me, all right? If he does, I know you won't have a choice, so please. Don't feel bad."
"Thank you," Sebastian said, closing his eyes. He would feel bad regardless, but no need to make John fret over it. "It would kill me if you thought I meant any of it."
John sighed and continued to stitch him up. Half an hour later, he pulled back to look over his work and gave a small nod, satisfied. "You're good to go."
"Go where?" Sebastian snorted. The pain had lessened with the painkillers, and John and put some sort of healing salve over the wounds that had cooled and numbed them considerably, but he still felt horrible. "I don't feel like moving at all." Embarrassed, he asked, "...Can you help me stand up?"
"Of course." John stood and moved around him, and helped him to his feet. "Here...can you lean against the wall for a moment, your blood dripped all over, let me wipe it up."
"Thank you," he whispered again, then wrapped a towel around himself and left the room, heading gingerly downstairs, his back aching. "Jim! We need to talk," he called.
John watched as he walked out, then began to scrub up the blood all over the floor.
When Sebastian walked into Jim's office, he raised an eyebrow. "Oooh dear..." he said in mock disappointment. "Johnny was supposed to make sure you were resting somewhere soft and comfortable." Jim sighed. "I guess I'll have to punish him, and I /did/ think he would try and do a better job, now." He stood and buttoned his suit jacket. "Perhaps a whip dipped in vinegar will jog his memory."
"Jim, for fuck's sake," Sebastian said, rolling his eyes to cover up his panic. "He's making up a place for me right now. I wanted to ask. Did you mean what you said, about turning me into a fuck toy if John wasn't here? Is that true?"
Jim coolly raised his eyebrows. "Why is it any concern of yours? John hasn't left, so either way, you've nothing to worry about."
"It is a concern of mine," Sebastian said, advancing on Jim. "It fucking pisses me off. Years of loyalty and then you threaten to turn me into a slave? If you were just doing it to threaten John, that's fine, but I want to know! Is that all I am to you?" He added a twinge of hurt to his voice.
Jim rolled his eyes and sank back down into his chair, kicking his feet up onto his desk. "No, Sebby, darling, I didn't mean it. You're the best sniper I've got—why the hell would I 'enslave' you when I've already got your skills, your loyalty, and your body in the bedroom? Don't be idiotic, Sebastian, it's not becoming. Now go upstairs and rest. I've got work to do."
"Good," Sebastian said, pacified for the time being. "That's all I wanted to know." He stalked back upstairs and poked his head into the bathroom. "Make a place up for me to lie down, John, or Jim'll have your head."
John nodded and grabbed some linens, remaking up Jim's bed for Sebastian, fluffing the pillows. "Here," he said, folding back the covers for him. "Can I get you anything?"
"I don't know if Jim'll like me dirtying his bed," Sebastian said, eyeing the sheets. The bed did look inviting, though. "I guess if I lie on my stomach and don't put the sheets over my back..." He eased himself onto the bed, letting his back breathe. "I'm all right, thanks, John. You'd best tend to your chores." He closed his eyes.
John pursed his lips. Sebastian was probably right. Jim wouldn't like him in his bed. After Sebastian was in, John went to his own room and quickly changed the sheets, making sure it was comfortable and then went back into Sebastian. "Seb? I made up a new place for you—you're probably right, Jim won't want you in here...here, I'll help you." He folded the covers back and held out his hand.
Sebastian gripped John's hands and pulled himself up, then padded into John's room, settling onto his stomach once more. "Thank you, John," he whispered. "More painkillers, please?" he asked.
John nodded and quickly went and retrieved them with a glass of water. "Here, sir," John said, wondering if Jim was watching the cameras in this room at that very moment. John wanted to lean down and place a kiss to Sebastian's forehead, but he didn't want Sebastian to have to act annoyed or angry by it, so he simply left the room, closing the door most of the way, but not entirely so that it wouldn't automatically lock from the other side. He then went downstairs to Jim's office. "I'm done with what you asked."
Jim raised his eyebrow at him. "Have you, now? Very good, Johnny. You know, it offends me that you would consider Bangkok a more desirable alternative than my home. Any of the misery you've suffered, you've inflicted on yourself. That's what love does to a person, John, do you see? Do you see how very foolish that is?"
John didn't say anything, just looked away. He squeezed his hands into fists for a moment before letting them go loose again.
Jim rose lazily from his desk and strode over to John, taking his chin in his hand. "John, John, John..." he breathed. "What am I going to do with you?" He leaned in and kissed John, pushing his mouth open with his lips. "My little lovesick kitten," he murmured into John's mouth. "I'll need to think of the perfect punishment for you." He ran his fingers through the hair at the nape of John's neck as he kissed him more deeply.
John pulled back a bit. "But...but I didn't do anything wrong, master," he said, more pleading, than anything.
"I don't know, dear one...you spoiled my sleep with your pathetic little declaration of love. But you are trying hard, aren't you? I should be merciful. Still, I think you should do something to make it up to me, shouldn't you? So what will you do, to make things better, John?"
John drew a blank. He had absolutely no idea. And he was fairly certain that whatever he would say, Jim would just laugh or tell him it was inadequate, even if he proposed handing over his soul. "I..I dunno, master..."
"Not a good answer, Johnny. Surprise me with something nice before tomorrow and maybe I'll consider the whole thing forgotten," he said. "In the meantime, complete your chores as usual. Hop to." He gave John a final kiss, then returned to his desk to work.