I am not dead, are you? (SherlockXMoriarty PostRBF)

Sherlock could see Jim's happiness in his eyes, and for a moment he was proud of himself for doing that, for saying the right words, maybe it wasn't so hard to make things good between them, maybe he just worried too much over it.

"Let's go," he whispered and brushed the tears away, by the time they were passing the hostesses Sherlock's looks were as perfect as usual, he wasn't the one who had gotten a punch in the face after all, and he was able to look elegant even naked somehow, he always blamed his posh family for that.

He looked at the half-empty cabin, rather impressed, it made sense they waited for them now.
"Nice," he muttered and sat in the seat beside the window, undoing the first buttons of his shirt and taking off his jacket for a bit of comfort.
He felt the need for a cup of tea, quite silly really. He felt emotionally drained though.

James lip was still swollen and clotted blood was covering up the split Sherlock's fist had punched in it. He sat down next to Sherlock after he'd taken off his own jacket.

As one of the hostesses walked by he stopped her, politely asking if they both could get some tea. She replied in the most friendly way and headed to the back of the plane. James sighed as he rested his head onto Sherlock's shoulder. He just wanted to feel him close.

Sherlock turned to lay a kiss on Jim's forehead when his head rested on his shoulder, it was familiar, and he couldn't help but love the intimacy they could create just by being close.
He never wanted it to fade.

He had almost lost it completely, and it still scared him to death.

"You should get some ice for your lip," he suggested, his hand settling on the inside of Jim's thigh, a movement maybe a bit too sensual to be completely innocent.

"You look very sexy with a split lip," he commented then with a dreamy grin, he was looking outside though.



((Do you think we can have a scene when Jim asks Sherlock to marry him? Like epically romantic? >> not now, it's way too early now, but we can have a skip to the future once we are done with the scene with Sebastian? >> Sherlock is going to be oh so jealous of Sebastian >> he's probably going to poison him >> ))

James smile as he felt Sherlock's lips press to his forehead. He couldn't imagine living without this. His eyes traveled to where Sherlock's hand was now resting. He had been aroused for less, he thought.

"It'll be just fine." He said while he ran his finger over it, quickly retrieving it once he felt he was getting close to the actual split. He knew Sherlock's mark would be on him for at least the next week.

"Thanks for making look even more irresistible then." he jokes.

The hostess arrived back and placed both of their cups on the small table in front of them. "Thanks." James nodded and he took his head of Sherlock's shoulder to reach for his own cup.

Sherlock couldn't help the smug grin blooming on his lips: "Wouldn't want people to think you might be available," he said, thinking it was a good way to mark him. "Never thought I'd give in to domestic violence though," he joked back.

"It might hurt to kiss though," he commented, his fingers moving a bit on his leg, he was wondering if he was supposed to feel guilty at all. He didn't. Jim had deserved that. But he did have a vague feeling that wished Jim would not feel pain.

He took the cup of tea, not bothering to pull away from Jim at all, and started sipping it slowly.

Once James had took a few sips from his tea he returned back to his previous position and nuzzled his head into Sherlock's shoulder.

"Well, no more kissing for you then." He teased Sherlock. He knew neither him or Sherlock could ever manage to not kiss each other again.

a few moments later he felt the engine rumble underneath them. The plane started to take off.

"Ah, don't even joke about that," he commented, licking his lips. "Makes me want to kiss you right away," he teased, squeezing a bit closer as he felt the sound of the engines.

They were leaving.
Together.
What was to come, it scared him, but he was willing to face it.

He would have never thought he'd be in this position, he'd never thought he'd love his enemy, he'd never thought he'd feel love at all.
He wasn't going to be bored for a while, he reckoned.


((Skip to Canada and meeting Seb?))

8 hours had passed faster than he'd thought. Nothing much happened, he had just been enjoying Sherlock's company. Holding hands, resting in his arms, feeling his soft kisses on his cheek.

Once the plane landed his heart started to behave strange. He was nervous, not sure what to find once he arrived at the center of his cell. They were escorted out of the plane to a private check-out desk. A taxi already waited for them.

Not many words were exchanged on the way out and james could feel some sort of tension rising between them again. James got into the cab first and stared at Sherlock as he did the same. He was more than certain the detective could read every bit of fear and doubt on his face. Not to mention his nerves were killing him.

Sherlock was thoughtful, he was trying to imagine what kind of situation they were going to find. When he looked at the driver, he deduced a few things, but nothing really important.
Clearly though, things were not as bad as Jim seemed to think, the e-mail had probably been just an excuse to bring him here.
It could be a trap.
It could even be one of the traps he had laid.

"Are you harmed?" he asked, his eyes fixed on Jim's. Were they even remotely ready for this?

"I think it is better to keep our relationship a secret," he suggested, not sure it'd help Jim any if he turned up with his enemy as a lover. Maybe not a lot of people would recognized him, but it would probably be better not to take any chances. "I won't meddle in what you have to do, you can tell them I am your prisoner if you wish," he conceded.

James took out his phone and read through the email again.

"Mr. Moriarty,
Unfortunately I have to inform you that the Quebec cell is in terrible danger.
We've received various information on the subject, coming from unknown sources.
However we have double checked them all and they lead to the Canadian special forces.
We alone are not able to plot out anything to keep them from taking us down.

Please come as soon as possible. "

Why would they send this? Why would they need him there? Especially because he was considered dead.

"Yes. Are you?" He looked at Sherlock, his eyes still filled with confusion.

He smiled weakly towards the detective. "We'll see what happens." He said before looking away from him again. He'd been here before, only one time though. He could tell the driver was bringing him to his cell and not somewhere else. After about 20 long minutes the car started to slow down in front of a huge gate that opened up once the driver scanned a card.


James recognized this place, they were just outside of the city center. In front of them a huge mansion, the center of his canadian cell. Things were different though, when he was still alive he always had people guarding outside of his most official buildings. They weren't here now. He sighed while looking up to Sherlock. "Well, this is it." He said as he walked up to the front door. Without even the slightest idea of what might occurred on the other side he rang the bell.


((How about Sebastian is opening the door now? or Something? I don't know? :p and who is moving Seb around? ))

"No," he answered, looking out of the window with a smirk. "Weapons are overrated. And I don't like getting my hands dirty," he teased him.

He looked at the gates as they passed them, no security, this just looked even worse than he suspected.
It had been all just to call Jim in, there was no doubt about that. This cell had been dead for a while now.

He looked around suspiciously as they made their way to the door.
"There is nothing to save here, Jim," he said softly, looking at the door as it opened, a tall man standing there.


((We can both move him? So we can go faster about it ^^ ))

James glared at Sherlock for being so skeptical.

"Of course there's somethi-" His voice refused to say another word as he noticed the figure opening the door. Army boots, loose jeans and that jacket, no.. impossible. this was not happening. James felt as if he could pass out. He backed off a bit, gripping his hand on whatever was close to keep his balance. Unaware that he had gripped on to Sherlock's arms he swallowed hard, his heart was pounding and he was speechless, mindless. In disbelieve he shook his head.

"So I guess you're alive then." He heard Sebastian's voice say dangerously dry. Seb never was one to happily skip around places but james could hear the hurt edging his voice. However he wasn't able to answer anything at this point.

Sebastian also noticed Sherlock the second he opened the door. What was he doing here? Why didn't he reject HIS james's offers. Seb had always wanted james and him to end up together despite the fact he knew about James's fascination and love for Sherlock.

Sherlock knew something was very wrong the moment Jim looked at the door, his eyes were wide, his breathing sped up, and surely the death grip Jim had on his arm was not to underestimate.

He looked at the tall man.
Older. Army. Sniper. Dishonorable discharge. Closeted homosexual. Anger issues. Sandwich for lunch. Untreated ulcer.
Stupid.
Betrayal.
In love with Jim.

"Sebastian Moran, I take it," said Sherlock, looking at the man with cold indifference. "I am returning you your boss, quite a lucky day," he commented, giving time to Jim to recover from the shock.

"How do you know my name?" Sebastian asked angrily, but then looked at Jim, realizing he had been the one to talk.

"Pleasant day, isn't it? Just the right temperature," continued Sherlock airily, Sebastian had stopped looking at Jim and was now openly glaring at him.

James had to breath a few deep times before he could come back to his senses. Therefor he had completely missed the conversation Sherlock and Sebastian just had.

Almost instinctively James pulled his gun and pointed it right between Sebastian's eyes and start pushing him back in the house.

"You little piece of shit. You better have one hell of a good explanation for this in order to stop me from blowing that useless brain of yours out." James could barely control his emotions. He was extremely happy to see Sebastian, but he wasn't pleased at all with this whole situation. Knowing that it nearly made him lose Sherlock. His chest filled with heat and anger as he kept pressing the gun between Seb's eyes until he hit the wall behind him.

And he was going to use this gun.

Sherlock's eyebrow curled at Jim's reaction, he wasn't expecting that, and clearly enough, Sebastian wasn't either.

He sauntered inside, looking at the inside of the splendid mansion, it hadn't been cleaned in... 25 days. "The cell has been dead for three weeks," he deduced, pacing around the room, picking up information. "Government, ten agents," he frowned. "Your men were gone already, no prisoners nor victims," he noticed the tracks on the floor. "They took some documents..."

Sebastian was looking at Jim, scared, but trying hard not to let it on. Jim was angry and he knew it could end up in bruises or serious injuries. "I needed to contact you," he muttered, and waved his hand towards the detective. "What are you doing with him?" he growled.

Sherlock stopped, looked at Sebastian. "He missed you, Jim, don't be so unsensitive," he commented, looking at the gun, rather unimpressed. "You would just end up ruining your suit."

James was barely listening to Sherlock, his eyes scanning over Seb's. He looked older, tired. His anger did went down a bit as he properly heard Seb's voice. It at least was enough to make him lower the gun, though he still kept it cocked and ready to pop.

"And you couldn't just call?" He asked, eyes widened. Stupid Moran had causes so many problems, yet Jim was still soo happy to see him. "Don't speak of Sherlock in such a dishonoured way." he pointed out to Seb. He granted himself some time to recover, to calm down, to let his happiness take the other hand.

"You really misses me?" He asked seb after Sherlock made the comment. What a silly question, of course the boy had. "Why all this? Why didn't you told me?"

Seb shuffled awkwardly. "Fine" he muttered, after all James was still his boss.
"Why? Because I hoped you'd leave /hi../ Sherlock behind. I knew that if you were alive you'd be with him, okay." Seb spitted out, James heart tore at the seams.

Sherlock's eyes moved on Sebastian for a moment, he could recognize that pain, the one he felt when looking at John going out for a date. For a moment the detective pitied him, and his expression turned sad.

He frowned at himself for being so weak and forced himself to look around some more.

Sebastian was still on his mind though, the unwavering trust the man had for Jim, it was shocking.

"And it's not just me who needs you. Your whole organization needs you. That man-, Sherlock, he is bringing down your cells one by one! And we cannot stop him without you," hissed Sebastian, his eyes dark.

Sherlock's head snapped up. "Oh," he realized it was indeed his doing, he had sent hints on Moriarty's web around to the whole globe, but he had never trusted anyone would pick it up, what with people being always so bloody stupid.

James listened to both of them carefully. His organisation needed him? Or did seb just needed him? Either way he was now stuck in the middle with on the left Sebastian and right Sherlock. Their was no easy way out. Sebastian was dying of anger towards sherlock while he himself would murder sebastian out of jealousy if james even decided to be a bit closer.

"What's left of it?" He asked cold whole he glared at Sherlock. He knew what this man was planning, but he never thought he had already managed to take down that many. He felt rather betrayed at that moment.

Sebastian started to explain on what cells are already down. Seemed like 4 countries had now been taking out and 3 were on the edge of falling apart if james did not do something soon.

James was impressed with Seb, the man had taken over james whole creation, nomatter how hard the business Was. He didn't even need to do so, he did. James lowered his gun completely now and sighed. "Seb I... I'm proud of what you did." He murmured out.

Seb's smiled gratefully. "It was the only way I could cope with you not being around anymore." He said quietly, shrugging slightly.

Sherlock took in the information, he hadn't really done anything during the time he had spent with Jim, so he was hardly updated. He knew things were supposed to happen, but he had no idea that fast. He was even better than he thought.
The two men probably didn't realize it was not a good idea to speak about this while Sherlock was in the room.

His mind went off numbers and figures though when he heard Jim talk about being proud. His features turned into a grimace.
"What a touching reunion," he snarled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What is one to do when his love fake his death if not kill more people? Make sense," he commented sarcastic.

"Not everyone will sulk and try to overdose like that filthy pet of yours did." Seb snapped back at sherlock. John indeed had tried to do that one time, and of course sebastias had it covered. He glared at sherlock and just wanted shoot him.

James knew sebastian's comment would lead into a war. John still was sherlock's weakness and the fact seb just brought that up worried james. "Let's just not try and kill each other just yet." He paused for a second. "How ironic." He weakly smiled afterwards.

Sherlock's cold expression crumbled when John was mentioned. "What do you mean he tried-?" his voice wavered. No, it couldn't be, John would never, why?

He stepped back, overwhelmed by his thoughts, by doubts, was John okay? How stupid he had been, always thinking John was the strong one, John would never take his own life. John had much more than his life with Sherlock.

The room seemed to disappear around him, Sherlock was not there any more, the possibilities were rushing in his head and taking up all of his senses.
No one other than Molly knew he was alive. It was unlikely John would visit her now that Sherlock was not there.
Mycroft surely would take care of John.
Lestrade at least.
They wouldn't leave him alone.

He couldn't believe this. He had made his best friend try to commit suicide.
Try?

He snapped back to reality, and he rushed ahead, pouncing Sebastian and grabbing his collar, pushing him against the nearest wall, ignoring Jim's words of peace.

"Is John okay? Is John alive?" he hissed, and there were unspeakable things he could do in that moment, just to get that answer.



((Oh man, you just killed me there with that bit of information!! And I thought the big drama was over!! XDD I love you... ))

Sebastian was just about to say something when he saw Sherlock approach him. Before he could have done a thing he already felt his back slam into the wall. He yelped as a shot of pain ran through his spine.

"How am I supposed to know? I don't sit by his bed side like you used to do every night do I? He's alive but that's all I know." Sebastian hisses back, struggling against Sherlock's grip.

James rolled his eyes. This was so typical Sebastian. That man never thought before speaking and just threw his words around, no matter the consequences. His eyes monitored Sherlock's reaction. The shock bled the red from his face and he turned paler than James had ever seen before. He was just about to reach out his hand and his lips had already whispered Sherlock's name but it was too late. He saw Sebastian slam into the wall and couldn't help but pull a painful face.

"Sherlock.. Don't." James shouted.


(( Hahaha yea i didn't knew what to do with the situation so I thought it would be a good thing. xD ))

"You useless piece of rubbish!" he shouted, surprising himself at his tone, he was about to push him again against the wall, he wanted to crack that stupid head of his, but Jim's words somehow got to him.

He blinked, rationality coming back and he let go of Sebastian, this man was stupidity itself, but he could not hurt him. He knew Jim cared for him. He had promised himself he wouldn't hurt Jim.

He turned around, trying to school his features. "I need to call Molly..." he said, his eyes moving to find Jim's. "He's my friend... I need to make sure he is okay," he explained to him, pleading, he wanted him to understand.

He had been stupid though. One should never turn his back on Sebastian Moran, especially after attacking him.
The man was furious and tackled Sherlock from behind, making him crumble to the floor and successfully pin him down.

"Give me a reason not to kill you right now!" he shouted, his hand drawing back to prepare a punch. "I would make Jim forget about you in no time if you were gone!"

James couldn't do a thing but hope Sherlock would let go of Sebastian. He'd only do stupid things if he didn't came back to his senses any time soon. Luckily he did and let go. James sighed in relief.

Quickly he glanced over to Seb, worrying that he'd be hurt but he seemed okay and received a nod that he was. James eyes then returned to Sherlock who was nearly begging him to make a phone call. For some weird reason it made James weep on the inside. He understood Sherlock's pains and needs at this moment.

"Of course." He said, smiling slightly. He was thinking to use the short time to speak to Sebastian alone, without Sherlock in the room. He had so many things to ask and say to him and he knew that if Sherlock heard them they'd end up fighting again. But before he could even finish thinking he already found Sebastian tackling Sherlock. Shit.

James stepped closer to both of them, he recognized the danger flickering in his sniper's eyes. "Seb, don't. It's not worth it." He tried, but the situation only imploded. James witnessed Sebastian hit Sherlock full in the face and soon after wrapped his tall fingers around the man's throat.

His face grimaced and he had to look away for a second, he couldn't stand seeing Sherlock getting hurt, but he was not allowing this to happen. He returned his gaze when he heard Sherlock making a suffocated kind of noise. His eyes straight away fixed on Seb's fingers around his neck.

James panicked and started shouting at Sebastian. "Let go!" "That's an order, Moran. LET GO." But Sebastian seemed to ignore it. A wave of panic was washing over him and he once more pulled his gun, pointing it at Sebastian. "Let.go." he demanded.

The sniper glanced towards James and grinned. "You wouldn't dare shooting me." He said while putting down more pressure onto Sherlock's windpipe. "I can make you forger about this, boss. I could fix things between us, fix your dreams." He said and he felt Sherlock's grip loosen, he was so close to passing out now, Seb figured.

James couldn't let this happen. He shook his head once more screaming, begging Sebastian to let go. "Don't, please Seb, not like this, let go of him." But Seb looked at James and gave him a grin that could only mean "no."

That was it, James closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.

BANG.

And all went quiet.

It had all been too quick for Sherlock to understand what was going on, his eyes unfocusing as the oxygen in his lungs ran thin. He had tried to struggle, to claw at Sebastian's arms so to make him stop.
It didn't work.

And all he could think about was Jim.
What will Jim do?
It'll hurt Jim.
What are you doing to him?

All the words that were exchanged, they registered in his mind, but he could not think.
What wasn't worth it?
Why not like this?

It didn't really matter if he was about to die.

He was passing out when he heard the bang.
Moran fell to the side, a bullet hole in his shoulder.
He was bleeding.

Sherlock rolled on his side, coughing, wheezing, trying to regain breath and sanity.

"God," he whimpered and then noticed Sebastian had fainted for the shock. "Sebastian!" he called him, turning him on his back.

"Jim! Call an ambulance!" he urged him, worry etched all over his face.
Again he was thinking about Jim.
They had to save him.
He couldn't let Sebastian hurt Jim.