#bashermoran

Send ✆ for a morning text

[SMS: Basher] Of course I didn’t sleep. I went for a walk. I’m fine. Stop panicking, for God’s sake. -JM

Send ✉ for a text that wasn’t sent

[Draft: Basher] I’m never going to be able to explain to you how weak I feel next to you

Send ☎ for a rushed text

[SMS: Basher] We’ve been located COME BACK NOW

Send ☏ for a loving text

[SMS: Basher] You’re lucky you’re cute or I’d flay you alive. -JM xo

Send ⁇ for a drunk text

[SMS: Basher] I’m horny coome abck

[SMS: Basher] this is npt a joke 

Send ø for a late night text

[SMS: Basher] Can’t sleep. Let’s go for a drive. -JM

Send ✘ for a hateful text

… [struggles for a moment] Yes. Constantly.

I also assume I eventually will. 

In fact, I’m quite sure of it. I’ll lose you, in the end. 

I’ll lose you…

Sebastian watched with a long, vacant expression. It had taken him months to be able to say the words to the man he worked for. Because it was supposed to mean something to Jim. It was supposed to put a crack in that stone exterior. But there was nothing. 

All at once Sebastian's mind began to burn. Burn like his lung after the last fifteen years of smoking. And it was killing him. Both the lung cancer and this disease that was Jim Moriarty. It pulled at the walls of his sanity, turning them to ash. Crumbling at his feet. Sebastian couldn't answer right away. His mouth was dry. Why is it so fucking hot in here? 

"Lung cancer," he said finally, the words bitter on his tongue, tasting of the disappointment. The unfulfilled expectations. The empty affections. He should have expected this. The vacancy that resided inside of Jim where a heart would beat for any other human being.

Burning. He was burning. Is that why Jim used that phrase? I will burn the heart out of you. Because his own had caught flame decades ago. Demolished into a pile of ash that nobody could repair. Regardless of how hard they tried. 

No, Jim wanted to scream, No, you don't understand, I can't care, I can't let myself care because it would destroy me, don't you get it, don't you understand how fucking fragile I am, don't you understand how much I hate it?

No, another voice chimed in. No, he doesn't. Because you never let him close enough to see it.

And now you'll never be able to. You'll be alone again. You'll be alone like you deserve.

He wanted to scream.

His hands were balled into fists in his pockets, nails leaving deep crescent moons in his palms as he squeezed tighter and tighter, trying to resort to physical pain in the wake of the emotional agony ripping through him like a hot knife through butter.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to scream.

"Inoperable, I presume," he said after a moment. His voice was tighter this time. He still wasn't looking at Sebastian. His tongue flicked out over his lips.

"How long do you have, then?"

The universe was crumbling around him, and all he could do was stand there and let it happen. Jim wasn't used to facing situations he couldn't fix, things he couldn't prevent or repair, Jim please will you fix it for me...

Fix it for me...