The Virgin And The Sniper
A/N: @devil_in_westwood on Instagram has the absolute best Mormor incorrect quotes on any site. They are top tier and I decided to write a fic on one of them. Iâll probably do more in the future when Iâm in the mood, but for now Iâm feeding all the people hungry for Mormor content. Unbetaâd as always because Iâm sleepy.
âSebastian: What makes you think I know what heâs doing?
Sherlock: Youâre his second in command, his lover, his weakness. You must know something.
Sebastian, grinning: See, thatâs where youâre wrong, Virgin. I may be many things to the Boss, but a weakness? Heâd never allow it. I donât know shit for that exact reason, so good luck trying to stop him.â
Pairings: Sebastian Moran x Jim Moriarty, slight Severin Moran x Richard Brook
Summary: Jim was going to give Sebastian hell for being captured by Sherlock Holmes. If Sebastian can manage not to go insane with Sherlockâs constant droning that is. The Holmes brothers were terrible at interrogation.
Warnings: referenced/implied of torture, reference/implied abuse, reference/implied drug use
Sebastian forgot to water his plants. That was his only concern as he regained consciousness. His legs were tied to the legs of the chair he sat in, his arms tied behind his back. It was very much something out of an American film if not for the clearly Englishman in front of him.
Sherlock Holmes was a menace to society. Worse, he was a menace to Jim Moriarty and Sebastian canât have that. So yes, he may or may not have willingly been caught just to keep an eye on Sherlock. He would never admit it to Jim. Knowing the crazed Irishman, Jim might do something rash if he found out that Sebastian was in Sherlockâs care.
âGood, youâre awake,â Sherlock said in place of greeting, definitely high on something from the way he was leaping from floor to sofa. Looking around with half shut eyes Sebastian recognized the room as one he was forced to watch for days. Sherlockâs living room looked cozy enough. Though the chair he was currently tired to leave much to be desired. âYouâd be of no use to me dead.â
Sebastian rolled his eyes. If he had a pound for every time he heard that heâd have enough to rival the allowance Jim gave him. What good could a man be dead? Besides Sherlock Holmes that is, but the man had faked his death.
âWhat do you want from me?â
âI know Moriarty is alive.â Sherlock stared at Sebastian with the hazy look of a man who had snorted more than he should. It was an accusatory expression. âI want to know exactly what he is planning. If he wanted to stay dead he wouldnât have made himself known so obviously.â Sherlock shook his head and leapt onto his desk. The piles of papers haphazardly balanced on the desk fell with a flourish. âPlease,â Sherlock spat, âCornering and capturing John is such an overused move.â
Sebastian raised his brow at that. He was not aware of the capture of Watson. Jim hated the blonde more than he hated Sebastian most days. And that was saying something. What was Jim planning?
âWhat makes you think I know what heâs doing?â Sebastian peered up at the curly haired detective, licking his chapped lips. He was unsure how long he had been out but by the fact there was no light from the open curtains he had been unconscious for at least a day.
âYouâre his second in command,â Sherlock bounded from the desk and Sebastian gained a migraine from trying to track him. âHis lover,â he continued from the kitchen archway. Sebastian was getting sick of this very quickly.
âHis weakness,â the detective hissed from the hall. âYou must know something.â
Sebastian grinned at Sherlockâs words. How could someone who claimed to be so smart be such an idiot? âSee, thatâs where youâre wrong, Virgin. I may be many things to the Boss, but a weakness?â Sebastianâs canines stuck out when he smiled, his expression always lopsided. âHeâd never allow it. I donât know shit for that exact reason, so good luck trying to stop him.â
Sherlock paused, seemingly put out by Sebastian. His eyes went blank just as Jimâs would when he went mad. Something having to do with their mind empires if Sebastian had to guess. It always gave him the creeps how people could shut down like that. Richard had the same ability and Sebastian had received many calls from a concerned Severin over the years. Sherlock was debating something over in his head and that could not mean good things for Sebastian.
âYouâre expendable?â Sherlock asked the question the same way a child would. He was completely clueless to the answer but just as curious.
Sebastian hummed non committedly before shrugging, âThatâs one way to see it. Sure.â
âNo, no, that canât be right.â
âI donât know what to tell you. If the boss really had a weakness then youâve gotten the wrong bloke because itâs not me.â Sebastian watched as Sherlock rearranged things in his mind to cater to the new information Sebastian provided. âI didnât even know that he captured your little soldier. Jim isnât a fan of keeping me in the loop when it comes to things he knows Iâll disagree with.â
âYouâre wrong. You must be,â Sherlockâs words rang, only half hearing Sebastianâs words. âYouâre not just some worker to him. You canât be.â Sebastian tried to interrupt to correct him but Sherlock would not have it. âNo, no, if you were just another ant in his endless hill then the video I sent him just hours ago would be useless. I spent hours on it, making sure everything appeared real enough to fool even him.â
âWhat sort of video did you send him?â Sebastian was skeptical. He was rethinking his plan of watching over Sherlock by being captured. If Sherlock sent Jim some sort of messed up sex tape while he was out than he was dead. Jim would not take well to his toys being played by others.
Sherlock locked eyes with Sebastian, his features suddenly clear of all its drug influence. Holmes looked completely sober as if he had been faking it the whole time. Sebastian had been tricked into something he was not going to enjoy. âOh, just the video of me beating you to the brink of death.â
A bullet whizzed through the air merely a hair away from Sherlockâs ear. Blood dripped from the side of his head where the bullet grazed his skin. He smiled and it was worse than any Sebastian had seen before. âHeâs just on time. I do love a punctual man.â
âOn time? On time for what, Virgin?â Sebastian questioned, uncaring about his panic if it meant he lived. âWhatever you did, it's not worth it. Donât you value your life or your soldierâs?â
The pound of a dozen and some footsteps sounded from the stairwell. Their steps were the heaviness of armed men and women. âHere I thought you meant nothing to him.â Sherlock was giddy. That was the only way to describe his expression.
âHis wrath isnât worth it I promise you. Let me talk to him and Iâll clear everything up as a big misunderstanding,â Sebastian pleaded for Sherlockâs life. For his own. For that of his plants. âI let you kidnap me, alright? If he knows the truth he might go easy on you. Think about your kid, your blonde.â Sebastian wasnât getting to him. He had planned to observe Sherlock, not sign his death certificate.
Grinding his teeth Sebastian hissed, âYou were right. So please, Iâm begging you, Sherlock. Let me talk to Jim first.â
With the gait of a doomed prey, Sherlock closed the door behind him to 221B. The handle clicked into place and Sebastian heard the measured footsteps of the man heâd know even in death. Jimâs voice reached him beyond the door. Sebastianâs plants were not going to be watered anytime soon.