Sebastian 'Tiger' Moran

Against all odds, it turned out the detective had actually agreed to let him out. He did have to wear an ankle monitor that not allowed the government to trace him but could also sent up to a lethal voltage of electricity through him… Sebastian was less than happy with that. But that he could deal with that later. For now this was a great start. More than he could have hoped for. Two guards led him up Sherlock, who stood waiting for him at the gates of Pentonville Prison. His hands were cuffed together still. The guards didn’t seem to trust them without them. In fact, they didn’t trust him at all. Which is why they snorted as they placed Sebastian before him and offered the detective the keys to his handcuffs. “Good luck with him.“ One of the guards told Sherlock with a humorous edge to his tone. They probably thought he was a madman for doing this. Perhaps he was. Sebastian just stared Sherlock down with an intense gaze and a dangerous smirk playing around his lips. “Goodmorning, detective. If you’d be so kind?” He raised his hands in a request for Sherlock to take off the cuffs. It’s not like they were neccesary when he was already wearing the anklemonitor. Besides, Sebastian reckoned he could kill him just as easily with the cuffs still on. { @empathyvslogic }

Sherlock stood with his arms crossed toward the front of the prison, awaiting the guards that would bring a semi-freed Sebastian. As far as he was concerned, the man better have a good lead, he’d rather not waste his time over something so ridiculous as someone who just misses their partner.

He only looked up as two guards came out of the gate with the man in question. Here went nothing, he supposed. He held his hand out for the key, rolling his eyes at the guard who gave him a sarcastic good luck. “Don’t think I’ll need it.” If anyone could handle Sebastian, it was him. He’d always remain two steps ahead, there was no room for slacking.

The detective raised an eyebrow at the other man before simply moving to unlock his hand cuffs. Sherlock was more than aware that if Sebastian wanted to kill him, he’d attempt it with or without the cuffs. He had no problem with the removal.

“Car’s this way.” Without another word, he placed the cuffs and key into his coat pocket and walked in the direction of the government vehicle that would take them both back to his apartment. Though they might make a stop along the way, knowing Mycroft, he’d want to speak with the both of them.

Sebastian’s own smirk fell from his face abruptly when Sherlock made a comment on him being impatient. It was rather unnerving to hear that from the detective’s lips. He sounded just like Jim when he said it. And that was simply not okay. “I’m a sniper, I have all the patience I need.“ Sebastian bit back because of it. He then watched him take off. “See you soon, detective.“ The guards stepped in to uncuff Sebastian from the table and drag him back towards his cell. He had no doubt that Sherlock had the means to get him out of here. His older brother was pretty much the government after all. What he wasn’t sure about was whether the detective would actually go through with it. After all he knew how badly Sebastian wanted to kill him. He may not have the nerve. { @empathyvslogic }

Sherlock simply walked out, ignoring Moran’s snarky remark.

- - -

After ask Mycroft several times over the course of a week, he finally agreed to have some strings pulled, allowing for Moran to be released on probation. The man had to wear an ankle monitor that linked with Sherlock’s watch. If the detective stopped breathing for any reason, Sebastian would get one hell of a shock. This was his brother’s compromise.

He stood, stiffly awaiting the arrival of the other, as officers had gone to inform him of his restrictions before allowing him to leave. He wasn’t to leave Sherlock’s sight and he felt as though this was going to quickly become a nuisance. He’d already sent Rosie and John away from the flat until further notice.

Sherlock was wrong on both accounts. Yes he wanted out of this place and yes he was angry at Jim for taking his own life. But truly he wanted to take the criminal organisation down because they’d been trying to take Jim’s place and he wasn’t going to let them get away with using Jim’s image like that. IF it was indeed them. The corner of Sebastian’s lips twitched up ever so slightly in amusement when Sherlock agreed to see what he could do. He wasn’t going to get his hopes up yet. When it came to the detective getting him out of this place, he really had to see it first to believe it. “Perfect. But I wouldn’t take too long if I were you. The clock is ticking and believe me; these terrorists aren’t taking their time.“ { @empathyvslogic }

Sherlock was more than capable of talking those around him into agreeing with whatever he had to say, though he wasn’t really sure how he was going to manage this specific task. It shouldn’t be too hard, he had connections everywhere.

“I won’t keep you waiting for too long, Moran. I do know just how impatient you are.” The detective smirked before rising from his chair. He turned to the officer in the room, “That’s all I’ll be needing from him for now.” And with that, he walked out.

Sebastian just smirked at her playfully when she glared at him. He liked that annoyed look on her face. It’s why he made the comment in the first place. It’s not that he underestimated her, though. On the contrary. They taught him that pissing her off was a very bad idea. She’d killed people she worked with before. Quite a lot. That just made it all the more of a challenge for Sebastian, who always loved a bit of danger. But as much as he loved danger, he didn’t particularly care for the things he was descripting. Sebastian huffed at her. She was one of those then. The assassin that got into it because they loved to see the light go out in their eyes. It was a sadistic feeling for power. But that’s not what Sebastian got into the business for, contrary to popular belief. “I’ve seen enough suffering up close to last a lifetime.” Literally. As a soldier in Afghanistan he’d seen things no one was supposed to see. No matter how ruthless they were themselves. “I never particularly cared for the sight of it. What I do care for is the craft. Improving my skills. Humans just happen to be challenging target. Well… If they know what they are doing, anyway. … Can you just take the shot now, please?“

𝕍━ Sebastian Moran was, in every sense of the word, a legend – but Villanelle was not blind to their methodology differences, especially when it came to purpose. A sniper was far different than an assassin, after all… and the men and women he had killed over the years had never seen his face. Their pain had been brief, at best, as they bled out… it was boring, really. There had been little flare, in her opinion, to the kills, and at the end of the day? Anyone could have been behind the trigger.

“So why do it then?” she asked, though her gaze had already torn away from his own, the gun rising once again to rest at her shoulders, the scope level with her eye sight. It would be an easy enough kill, considering the man was lounging comfortably, unaware of the target (literally) on him. A small adjustment, a change in her stance, loosening of her knees… her finger played delicately at the trigger.

“What? Don’t you trust me?“ Sebastian smirked at Sherlock particularly menacing, but it dropped into a loathsome scowl again soon enough. “Have it your way. I don’t know for certain who’s behind this. But I do have theories. One more pressing than others. I’ve heard talk about a terrorist attack from a particular group I could easily get into contact with. They tried to recruit me for the attack. I turned it down. But I bet they’d still be interested to have me. I can find out if it’s them. If it was them who sent out the video, I’d be more than happy to take them down.“

Sebastian tilted his head and the joints in his neck cracked audibly with the movement. “Hm. But not for nothing. You’ll have to get me out of here first because otherwise that’s all I’ll ever tell you.”

{ @empathyvslogic }

Sherlock only sent him a glare that could be read as obviously not. He might not know everything there is to know in this particular case, but he was certainly not the fool that Sebastian perceived him to be.

The detective listened intently to what the other had to say, simultaneously scanning his body language for any tells of dishonesty. He appeared to be telling the truth, perhaps even eager to help Sherlock take this group down. He couldn’t tell if it was because he simply wanted out of this hell, or if he was angry at anything Jim had been involved in. It had ultimately led to his death.

The nonchalance of the other’s behavior was seemingly enough evidence for Sherlock to reluctantly agree. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

At first Sebastian just scoffed bitterly. There was no possibility that Jim was alive. It simply couldn’t be. And yet… He kept having this awful feeling in the back of his head. The feeling of false hope. Alive or not, this did present an opportunity. Sherlock clearly wanted something from him. That meant he was in a position to bargain. “You’re right, detective. That is rather difficult.“ Sebastian mused, sitting back for as far as the handcuffs would allow him. “But you see, even if I were to help you, I am not going to do it from here and let you have all the fun. It’ll work much better if I am free to point the way. So how about you arrange for me to be freed from this shithole, and I’ll see what I can do.“ { @empathyvslogic }

Sherlock tilted his head. He wished that Moran didn’t have any leverage against him, but he didn’t feel like he could solve this without the other’s help. There was this nagging feeling that Sebastian might not even know enough to begin with. How is he supposed to cut a deal with that alone?

“And how am I to know that you actually have some semblance of a theory here? You and I both know that I’m going to need a bit of information if I’m even going to consider allowing you out on the field with me.” He didn’t know what kind of proof he could possibly use to prove that he knew anything, maybe an exposure, something the detective didn’t already know. He obviously didn’t know everything about the crime web if he was here, asking for help from Moriarty’s right hand.

Sebastian tilted his head and the joints in his neck cracked audibly with the movement. “Hm. But not for nothing. You’ll have to get me out of here first because otherwise that’s all I’ll ever tell you.”

Sebastian gave a brief look down at the screen again before Sherlock grabbed it and took the image away. He hadn’t been told about the broadcast yet. But it did explain why his interrogators had been extra thorough in the last 24 hours. Sebastian mulled over the meaning behind it all in silence for a moment. He had some theories… That didn’t mean he was willing to share them. “What makes you think I’d tell you?“ Seeing Jim again, even if it was just on a screen, had hit him hard. But he wasn’t going to let that break him. For all he knew this was just a trick on the detective’s part to manipulate him into talking. { @empathyvslogic }

Of course Sebastian was weary. He had every reason to distrust Sherlock, but he needed to understand what was happening. He didn’t know how to appear genuine to the other, nor did he really care about making that false appearance.

“Because,” He paused, “You’re in here and I’m not. If there’s any possibility that he’s alive, I know you’d jump on the opportunity to find him. That, however, is rather difficult when you’re handcuffed to a table.” He hoped that this would be enough. Without Moran, he didn’t have many leads. He was the last one alive that was relatively close to Moriarty.

The moment Sebastian laid eyes on the image, his throat tightened up and for a moment he forgot to breathe. There he was, with his trademark smirk and permanently dark yet vaguely bored gaze.  ‘Did you miss me?‘ it said. Paired with his face, the phrase was a punch in the gut. No, worse than that. A stab in the chest. … That fucking bastard. Sebastian began to feel burning behind his eyes as he almost teared up. Almost. The only thing stopping him was the man sitting before him. He wasn’t sure if he could live with himself if Sherlock caught him in such a weak state and with the knowledge it was his doing. So Sebastian quickly looked back up at the detective getting sucked in further by that damn image. “Where did you get this?“ { @empathyvslogic }

Sherlock looked at the other silently, gauging his reaction. He seemed hurt and angry.. and somehow he understood. If he saw tears welling in the other man’s eyes, he didn’t mention it. There was no need to twist the knife further in the wound.

“It was playing on every screen in London.” He turned his phone screen back off, placing it in his coat pocket and leaning back. He couldn’t grasp what Moriarty’s plans were. He’d foolishly assumed that after his death, there would be nothing from him. Nothing to torment him and his family anymore. He was obviously wrong.

“Do you know something?” They both saw him die on that roof that day. There was no doubt in his mind that the other had died. He saw the brains and blood splattered on the concrete. He stood by as the other pulled the trigger, it was all too real to somehow have been a deception. 

Sebastian noticed the lack of focuss. And it irked him. It made him feel ignored. Even though Sherlock had come here to talk to him in the first place. Or maybe he was just happy to grab any excuse to despise the man further than he already did. But his irritation was immediately overshadowed by the thing the detective said next. ‘He’s back.‘ They were just two syllables and yet they made a huge impact. The passive agressive smirk he’d been sporting up to that point fell from his face to leave an undeniable expression of shock. And… Hope? He felt the hairs on his arms rise and his heart sink into his stomach. Could he really be back? That faithful morning rushed back to him like a punch in the fact. The moment Jim put a gun into his mouth. It looked so real he almost felt he was actually back there and he jolted slightly out of his daze at the imagined sound of the gunshot. He quickly reminded himself to keep it together. This was just manipulation on the detective’s behest. Just because he wanted it to be true, didn’t mean it could be. “He’s dead.“ Sebastian responded in a gruff voice while staring Sherlock down with an icy glare. Neither of them had spoken his name, but they both know who this was about. He was the only one that mattered in this context. “And if you think I’m stupid enough to believe otherwise, you’re not as clever as everyone thinks you are.“ { @empathyvslogic }

Sherlock simply nodded, he expected the aggressive reaction. It would have been foolish to assume otherwise, especially with their obvious relationship. He didn’t really have the patience to explain, though.

“So if he is..” He paused, pulling out his phone that still had Jim’s face splayed across it. He was supposed to be dead, and yet here he was playing on televisions and cell phones throughout London and god knows where else.

He showed the phone to Moran, “Care to explain this?” He didn’t expect much else from the other. Logically, he understood that Jim was dead. He watched as the other pulled the trigger- No. He wasn’t alive. He was simply messing with him, somehow, from beyond the grave.

Sebastian huffed a breathy chuckle when Sherlock asked him how prison had been treating him. He knew very well he didn’t care. And it felt like an awfully smug question for someone who’d just claimed he wasn’t here to gloat. “Oh it’s lovely. Their cuisine could use some improvement, but I heard today is pizza day and there are only so many things you can do wrong to fuck that up.“ Sebastian wasn’t going to start about the many hours he’d spent in this cell being interrogated and sleep-deprived. He wouldn’t mention the fights or the fact he’d drive himself mad with all sorts of dark thoughts at night. He refused to appear weak in any sense of the word in front of the detective. Besides… He’d had much worse. This place was a picnic compared to the things he’d experienced in Afghanistan. “So if you’re not here to gloat, why don’t you tell me why you’re really here? I wouldn’t want to waste any of your precious time when there are so many cases to be solved and so many newspaper snapshots to be taken.“ { @empathyvslogic }

Sherlock simply listened to the other as he spoke, though it was more or less background noise to the thoughts currently eating away at his mind. It probably appeared as though he was looking through Sebastian and less at him.

He refocused in on the other as he finished talking. He tilted his head briefly for a moment, as if agreeing to his statement, though really he had no thoughts about it one way or the other.

“He’s back.” Moran definitely talked more more than he did. He didn’t have much to say about this entire situation, but he knew that something was coming.. And he knew that he would have a lot to say about those two little words. They held so much power.

— 3 weeks later — Sebastian laid back on the poor excuse of a bed in Pentonville Prison, staring at the grey dusty ceiling. Usually the cells were shared but right now Sebastian had this one for himself. His cellmate had been pulled out a few days ago after an incident occurred. Sebastian was never good at making friends… He sported a big bruise on his cheekbone. But judging by the state of his knuckles, which he moved around idly to reduce the swelling, his cellmate was far worse off. That’s why they pulled him out in the first place. In his head he went over possible ways he could escape. He had the determination and the strength for it. But he had to be smart about it too. Sebastian had a tendency to rush into things when he got really angry. The detective had been annoyingly right about his emotions being his downfall. When he was cold and collected, he could take on anyone. He had the patience a sniper needed. Plenty of it. But when he got angry he got impulsive. He knew that. Jim had told him countless of times. It’s part of why he’d earned the nickname Tiger so easily. But if he rushed this, he could screw it up even worse. He had to bide his time. Three harsh knocks on the steel door of his cell had him stir from his thoughts.  “Up. Hands against the wall.” A gruff voice behind the door instructed. Sebastian sighed, taking his time. But eventually he got up and did as he was told. Two guards moved in to cuff his hands behind his back and push him out of his cell. Sebastian sighed deeply. He reckoned he was in for another round of interrogation. They’d stick him in a room for hours to get information on Moriarty’s web; what remained of it at least. So far Sebastian had told them nothing. Even when they had him stuck in that interrogation cell for over 24 hours without any sleep, he still hadn’t told them anything. And he wouldn’t. He’d had much worse once, when he was taken as a war prisoner in Afghanistan. But this time something was different about the interrogation room. Or rather; the person sitting at the other side of the table was different. He’d recognize that face anywhere. … Sherlock Holmes. Of course. Whereas he’d looked mildly bored before, his expression instantly turned dark on meeting the detective’s gaze. Oh, how he longed to lunge over the table and throttle him. But he resisted the urge, even though he could probably take on the guard escorting him. He could practically hear Moriarty’s whimsical voice in his head: ‘Easy, Tiger… Patience.’ So Sebastian let himself be sat down in the chair and had his wrists cuffed to the table between them. The guard then turned to leave them alone. They were still closely monitored though, from behind the mirror on the wall besides them. Sebastian looked him over in silence for a moment and then huffed semi-amused but mostly irritated. “Come to gloat, Holmes? I wish I could say I’m surprised.” { @empathyvslogic }

Sebastian was the absolute last person that Sherlock wanted to come to for help of any sort. Somehow.. Moriarty was back. Not physically, obviously, he was long dead. The detective watched the other as the bullet went through his skull, successfully taking him out for good- Or so he’d thought.

Even dead Moriarty still had it out for him. The man he’d thought he’d taken down, the one that haunted his dreams and threatened to take away the only people he’d ever loved- He was still taunting him from beyond the grave. While Moran was the last person he’d wanted to interrogate about this.. he was the only choice.

The detective had managed to take out the majority of Moriarty’s web, except for Moran. He was the only person that was still alive that was capable of giving him the information he needed. He hardly expected anything to come from it, though. What could he offer? The man wanted to murder him, that much would be obvious as soon as he entered the room.

He sat at the metal table anxiously tapping away as the guard left, going to get Sebastian as he’d asked. He wondered if the other knew anything and if he did.. How would he get him to spill the information he needed? He still had the idea in his mind that Sherlock had killed Moriarty, almost as though he’d pulled the trigger all on his own.

When the guard entered again, this time with Sebastian, Sherlock looked up at the pair. He made sure his demeanor was completely composed. He waited to speak until the other was sitting down across from his, handcuffed to the table. He had no reason to provoke him, not if he needed him to cooperate. 

He cleared his throat, keeping his hands clasped together on the table in front of him, “Actually, no. If I had I already would have begun.” He paused, choosing to stall, yet again. “How has prison been treating you?” Not like he actually cared.

Sebastian had difficulty accepting what just happened. He was so sure his plan was going to work. Perhaps it hadn’t been as elaborate as one of Jim’s, no. But that had been the point. He’d gone for a straight agressive attack this time. Apparently that wasn’t enough to take the detective down either. When Sherlock walked over and looked down on him, Sebastian tiltled his head back as far as it would go to glare at him with bared teeth. He’d never been the best at controlling his emotions. But especially not when it came to anger. “Next time you will be.“ he growled aggrevated. The agents that had taken him down now lifted him up off the ground. Sebastian began struggling again in an attempt to at least injure one of them, but they were quick to put a taser in his side. He shouted out in pain and slumped in their grip after that, which allowed them to carry him away a lot easier. The car was thoroughly investigated and the bomb inside dismantled. After that, the boot of the car was opened to see who Sebastian had stuck in there. But it turned out he’d been bluffing about that. The boot of the car was empty, proving that Sebastian was indeed not a fan of collatoral damage.

“I’m counting on it.” Sherlock stepped away from the other as they dragged him away. He walked over to where the other officers where examining his vehicle. Nothing was in the boot. He honestly hadn’t known precisely what to expect from that entire situation, but he let out a sigh of relief since there hadn’t been anyone else involved. 

He took a moment to contemplate the night and what had gone over. He nearly felt a pang of guilt, knowing that the other was a military man and had simply gone down the wrong path. If anyone was around Jim for too long, they’d certainly be questioning their morals and behavior. The detective still felt that he stood in the gray area when it came to his beliefs. 

𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

Severin Moran and so many more wanted on Almost Kings. Many canons and key players are still open.

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Sebastian didn’t seem to notice the people coming in behind him yet and kept his gaze firmly on Sherlock, as if he thought he could make him pull the trigger through mind control. “Stalling won’t save you. You have ten seconds before I–“ He was interrupted by a voice shouting at him from behind. “Put the detonator on the ground and put your hands up! Now!” Sebastian quickly whirled around to see that the police had surrounded him. His heart fluttered in panic. He didn’t think Sherlock would actually risk their lives like that. Once again he had underestimated the detective. And he’d have to pay that price with his life. “There’s nowhere to go, Moran! Put the detonator down! Now!” Sebastian steeled himself and turned to look the detective in his eyes one more time. His eyes were steel daggers and his words were venom as he spoke, what he assumed to be, his final words. “You lose.“ He then pressed the detonator and closed his eyes, waiting for impact. … Except nothing happened. Everything was awfully quiet around him. Sebastian opened his eyes again, as if to check whether he was still alive. Sherlock was still right there. So was the car. And so were the agents behind him. “What–?“ He pressed the button again. No response. Something was wrong. Little did he know that the agents brought a device that jammed the signal from the detonator to the bomb. “Fuck!“ He reached to grab his gun from the inside of his jacket. But before he could pull it out two of the agents tackled him to the ground. Sebastian put up an impressive fight. He kicked and shouted and went as far as biting down hard on one of the agent’s wrists. But there were too many to fight off indefinitely and before he knew it he had a knee pressed harshly into his neck and his hands were cuffed behind his back. { @empathyvslogic }

Luckily, Sherlock had correctly anticipated nearly everything that resulted in this situation. From the way Moran wanted him to shoot himself and the bomb he brought along as insurance. He smirked before pulling the gun away from his head. 

“Actually, I do believe that stalling does the trick.”

The detective would never take the chance of risking anyone else’s lives and the fact that the other thought he would for even a second.. It proves how little he actually knew about him. Though, most people did assume the worst of him. Perhaps Sebastian did as well. He sees him as the villain now that Jim is dead. All Sherlock had done was talk.

The other’s confidence in his plan was almost admirable, but the bomb never went off. “Actually-” He paused waiting for the other to open his eyes again, “You do.”

He simply watched as the men arrested him. He wasn’t surprised that the other hadn’t gone down without a fight. He looked to Lestrade and nodded, before walking over to where Moran was being held down. 

“Next time, don’t let your emotions control the situation. Perhaps if you hadn’t allowed them control, I’d be dead.”