#moriarty angst

There she was, as angelically beautiful as ever, her eyes bright with unadulterated joy, and her skin positively glowing with health and happiness. However, William didn’t know what stunned him more; the sight of his younger brother sitting far too close to her for comfort and with a smile he’d never seen before on his face, or the babbling baby girl perched on her lap, with eyes that almost exactly mirrored his.

Or, as this case would clearly have it, Louis’ crimson eyes.

“I see you’ve both been faring well, brother.” William could feel his lips pulling into a small smile. “Mrs. Moriarty.”

Startled from their little bubble, all three of their persons turned their attention to him. Shocked eyes met his, along with a pair that seemed more curious than anything.

“Brother…”

“Liam!”

“Of course, it must be a little confusing for the little one to see someone identical to her father.” A small chuckle escaped him, though he knew it tasted more bitter than anything on his tongue. “She’s just learning about object permanence, isn’t she?”

Louis had already practically jumped up from the couch, a turbulent mix of emotions in his eyes, the most prominent one being pure relief.

“William! You’re finally back,” he softly said, and despite all the sour feelings swelling within his chest, William could tell that his brother was truly feeling happier than he could ever express. “We’ve been waiting to—“

William politely waved him off, setting his hat and cane down on the hanger to the side. He had to rein in his emotions as best as he could, but he was having severe difficulties trying to feign normalcy. The awkwardness that came with his stiff movements was something he couldn’t help. Yes, this was his brother and his beloved, but clearly the circumstances had changed.

“Not to worry. News has reached every corner within nobility and commoners alike.” His gaze softened as he regarded them both for a few beats, lingering on the little girl who was now currently making adorable grabby hands at him, a toothy smile on her face. “I’m just glad you’re both happy.”

And despite the longing stabbing him in the chest over and over, that statement rang true. No one in the world deserved happiness more than his younger brother and the woman he’d once so-hopefully called his; hope that had quickly shattered upon entering this room.

She, however, seemed to be frowning a little at his previous words. Had she thought them insincere? Perhaps he was brimming with jealousy at the thought of Louis’ armed wrapped around her, but he could push that thought aside as easily as it came. Had they not been patient enough with him over the years? Had they not loved him more than anyone else ever would? Perhaps it was time for them to turn that love to each other during his absence. William could only hope they’d found peace and warmth in each other’s presence amidst the heartbreak he’d dealt them both with his disappearance.

It was selfish of him to hope that either of them would wait in solitude. No; he mustn’t want for too much. He was alive, and so were they. Greed would never do him any good. It would only take and take in reciprocation.

When she spoke up, her tone was careful and controlled. “I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding, Liam. What the ‘Ton believes is entirely different than what truly is, as you know is typical of word of mouth.”

“My dear, do not try to spare my feelings.” He sympathetically smiled at her, knowing that she was more than likely simply searching for a white lie to avoid hurting his feelings—which had, in all honesty, long been hurt since he’d walked in on that domestic scene. “As my sister in law, it would be—“

“I’m taking her inside.” His ex-lover’s voice was hard, her expression unreadable as she got up from her seat. Though her daughter fussed a little, she clung to her robes tightly as she carried her away. Silence blanketed the sitting room for a few moments, before it was interrupted.

“Really, how low do you think I would stoop, William?” Louis’ hand clutched at his, a faint undertone of hurt lacing his words as his eyebrows furrowed. For a moment, William was struck with how much older Louis suddenly seemed, though only two years had passed. “You would truly think I would dare to betray your trust?”

William sighed, knowing how Louis had never once allowed himself to act selfishly. He deserved this much. “It would be childish of me to think you owed me anything in that regard. Her especially.” His voice grew quieter, as his heart beat faster. “Our world would not be kind to a supposed-widow. Once her mourning period is over, it’s well within her right to appear in front of them with a new husband. I fail to see why it should upset me that it would be you, someone she possibly already had feelings for.”

“Do not pretend that the very idea doesn’t torture you, brother,” Louis scowled deeper, “And do not think for a moment that I would do anything of the sort when I had full faith in your return.”

Nauseating thoughts filled his mind. To hope was futile; no matter how much his younger brother reassured him, William failed to see how they could possibly end up in this situation otherwise. And in all cases, he knew for a fact that he wasn’t exactly the spitting image of a good lover.

He’d been a liar and about as honest as a regular fibber, and had kept his entire identity a secret—a secret he’d bestowed upon Louis to reveal to her eventually. There wasn’t anything wrong with her being horrified by his actions and turning to his brother instead.

Though there was everything wrong with that, his heart seemed to say, as it clamored for an explanation; for a way to somehow prove that she wasn’t disgusted by his very existence. It secretly hoped that he could still have a home to come back to.

“The girl,” came her voice from behind him, before he could search for a reply, “She’s as yours as she is mine.”

William swallowed thickly, hammering in his chest growing deafeningly loud in his ears. “That would make no sense.”

“We’d consummated our marriage roughly a week before you left.” She walked up to him, the perfect image of refined grace as she proudly carried herself in the same manner he’d once fallen head over heels for, against all odds. “A mere month or two later, Louis had a physician provided to me in our house after a particularly nasty bout of sickness. It was only then that I found out that I was with child.” She paused, giving him a meaningful look. “Yours.”

The urge to run briefly flashed through his mind. Not unlike a cornered animal, the pressure of being so unsure and confused had him wanting to flee. But what would he achieve then? Leaving more heartbreak in his wake?

Louis was quick to step into his field as vision, as though knowing what was going through his mind—and he probably did; after all, there hadn’t been a person in the world that knew him better than his younger brother did.

“You’ve said it yourself. Nobility has never been welcoming towards widowed ladies, and especially not those with orphaned children. The right thing to do was to step up.” Before William could interject, Louis was quick to clarify. “As an uncle. Nothing more, nothing less.”

He shifted his gaze back to the woman who still commandeered his attention every time she stood in front of him. “But still, perhaps as a husband as well—“

“I’ve waited two years for the man I love. I will not have you erase that within ten minutes of having doubts.” She snapped, her eyes steely as she folded her arms across her chest, “Your brother has always been a huge help, but I’ve only ever been faithful to one man, and that is you. Quit spouting nonsense.”

To anyone else, that might have sounded cruel, but to the man who’d known her like the back of his hand for nearly half a decade, it was anything but. A shudder left him, as the gravity of her words settled.

How could he allow himself to relax and to believe in this, when he’d only ever been dealt the worst cards? Fate had many a time betrayed him by sending him down godless paths, so how was he to believe that some sort of miracle had her still harboring affectionate feelings towards him?

“I have never approached her with any ill intentions.” Louis nodded, confirming her words, squeezing his wrist in what seemed to be an attempt at reassurance. “To me, she will always be my sister in law, who mothered my sweet niece. To you, she would always remain a most faithful and beloved wife.”

He lingered for a moment, glancing between the two whose love story had once been left interrupted, clearly searching for something. Whatever it was, he probably found, as he hesitated for a beat before walking off in the general direction where his (apparently) niece had been put to bed, leaving the two of them alone.

Something wavered inside of William, and she might have noticed the inner conflict within him, as she seemed to soften a little, her stance relaxing just a bit. Uncrossing her arms, she took a tentative step forwards, arm extending right in front of him. “Not a day I’ve taken your ring off.”

He inhaled sharply, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of the simple band on her finger. It was just as he’d remembered it. Had he truly been so irrational and out of his mind to have not noticed it from the start? Did his emotions truly have complete control over him in such a shameful way?

“That was never a ring befitting your status and value to me. It wasn’t supposed to be anything but a placeholder until things settled down enough and I could buy you a ring worth far more.”

“It never mattered as long as I was your wife. It was all I’d ever wanted.” Her lips quirked up in a small smile as she took another cautious step towards him. “Our daughter was nothing but a beautiful surprise. She was the reason why I pulled myself together, despite having every reason not to.”

Guilt bubbled inside his chest, like a pot threatening to boil over. It was all his fault; he’d been the one to leave the house in shambles. He’d been the one to forgo his life in a vain attempt at retribution that would never be realized. He’d been the one to leave her, alone to raise a child that he’d never anticipated, and would’ve been wronged by being brought up in such circumstances had his brother not stepped up in his stead. He’d left her with no reassurances of his love or his return, and no guarantees for himself either.

“Liam,” she spoke softly, her palms reaching up to oh-so-gently cradle his cheeks, thumbs swiping at the wetness he hadn’t noticed under his cheeks. She let her fingers deftly touch his eyepatch; an almost-reverent act of recognition. She still—as she always had done—saw him, as he was. Her smile was every bit as wickedly enchanting as he’d remembered it to be. “My love.”

He couldn’t recognize the croak that spilled from his lips as his own voice. “Yes?”

“Welcome back home.”

A small, strangled gasp escaped him, and his eyesight clouded over with the tears that he’d waited for so long to be able to shed freely. Held so lovingly and looked at with so much devotion, William couldn’t seem to stop himself from crying. It took all the strength he could muster to whisper back.

“I’m home.”

“I just don’t think that you should be wearing that color. It seriously washes you out,”

You held in your angry response as you narrowed your eyes at your date across the table in front of you. It really wasn’t a good idea to go out with a fashion advisor, but he had money and you wanted attention. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” You smiled sweetly. He continued to list the colors that you should wear, along with good patterns to go with your body shape. You started to drift off as he explained which fruit your body resembled most before your phone jolted you awake as it buzzed silently in your pocket. 

Free tonight? ;) -M

You frowned and quickly shoved your phone back into your pocket. 

“....just throw some heels on, they’d compliment your legs so much,”

Over it, you reached forward and grabbed his glass of wine from across the table before downing it completely. He stopped rambling instantly and watched you in awe. 

“Don’t tell me how to dress,” You said as you slammed the glass back down on the table. Opening your purse widely, you wrapped up the remaining breadsticks and shoved them in before getting up and leaving. 

You hated dating. The only thing you wanted to do was find that one person who you could come home to each night without a doubt. Your phone buzzed again in your pocket as you reached the bus stop nearest the restaurant you were just in. 

Just a quickie ;) -M

You cursed quietly to yourself as you responded. 

I’m going home.

Honestly, the hardest part about dating was knowing there was already someone you wanted, but couldn’t have. Well... you could ‘have’ him whenever you wanted... but not in a serious way. Not in the way you wanted. 

You knew he’d be there by the time you got back, but his presence in your empty apartment startled you nonetheless. 

“Busy night?” He asked, glancing at your dress as you slipped out of your coat. 

“I was on a date,” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes tiredly. 

He scoffed. 

“Am I not enough?”

Was he being serious? 

“We’re not together,” You said, stepping toward him, “You said it yourself,”

“Because you’re ashamed of me,” He smirked, “I’m just your guilty pleasure,”

“I never said that,”

“You didn’t have to,”

Silence fell over your flat and you looked down at your shoes awkwardly. 

“You’re the one who said we shouldn’t be serious,” You mumbled, not looking at him. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” 

“That could’ve worked if you didn’t keep suggesting these ‘quickies’,” 

His head fell and he kicked absently at the floor. 

“I couldn’t keep myself away from you,” He finally mumbled.

“Well, it hurts more than if you just left completely,” You said, “It’s like you’re teasing me now,” 

“Did you want to be serious?” He asked, stepping in front of you, practically forcing you to look at him, “Because last time you were pretty ashamed,” 

“I still am! You’ve done horrible things but I’ll be damned if I didn’t love you,” Your breath hitched in your throat as you confessed and you backed away slightly. 

“Fuck it,” He mumbled before grabbing your face and kissing you passionately. 

You pulled away to catch your breath and his hands slowly made their way to the back of your neck and hair. 

“I love you too,” He mumbled before kissing you again. 

You pushed at his chest softly so he’d pull away again. 

“Take me seriously this time, Jim,”

“Speak for yourself,”

You couldn’t tell where you were. Sun shone through the parted blinds and a record player across the room spun silently, occasionally jumping. It had ended many hours ago. Sitting up, you realized you weren’t alone in the bed. 

“Oh God,” You mumbled once you saw who it was. Guilt set in instantly. What would Sherlock and John say when they found out? You couldn’t betray your best friends but you knew Sherlock would figure out what had happened.

He looked so vulnerable lying there deep asleep. His hair was a mess and his mouth hung slightly open. If you wanted, you could kill him right then and there. It would save Sherlock the hassle. 

Slowly, you reached over the edge of the bed and pulled out the pocket knife you kept in your inside jacket pocket. You turned to face him again and flipped the knife open. Now was your chance. 

He hummed sleepily and pulled the covers up. You froze and held your breath so as not to wake him. Luckily he stayed asleep. For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to bring the knife down. Hand shaking, you closed it and set it down on the table beside the bed.

“y/n?” 

You froze again. His hand snaked under the sheets and pulled at your shirt slightly.

“I think that... maybe I should go,” You mumbled, turning to face him. He was awake now, hair still tousled with a stupid smirk on his face. 

“Why?”

“John and Sherlock-” You started, sitting up more in the warm bed. 

“They won’t find out, Love,”

“Sherlock might,” Fear set in and you looked away from him quickly. 

You didn’t want to leave, though. You wanted to crawl underneath the warm covers and play absently with his hair while he rubbed your back. 

“This was a mistake,” You mumbled, pulling your knees to your chest. 

How could you feel the way you did about him? After all of the things he’s done? You couldn’t stop thinking about his gruff morning voice and the way his hands felt when they roamed your body. Your mind started to drift to the night before...

“If Sherlock finds out, I’ll lose his trust completely,”

“Then he won’t find out,”

You looked over at his smug smirk again. The only thing you wanted to do was curl up next to him...

His hand reached and once again pulled slightly at the edge of your shirt. Giving in, you sunk back under the covers and let him pull you into his chest tightly. 

“You’re a horrible person,” You mumbled, enjoying the feeling of his fingers in your hair. 

“And?”