Braindamaged!Jim

Sherlock was struggling really hard not to say anything. He knew John was doing a good job but he didn't know how much more he could take of this nonsense.

Hearing him talk about "playing together" was really the final straw. He felt his fists clenching up and he spun round quickly, his coat making a loud swooshing sound.

"When you've quite finished John with your cosy reminiscing I'll be waiting outside. Oh and whilst you're at it, why don't you remind Jim about that brilliant day we had when we all went swimming together. Gosh we had such fun didn't we?" Sherlock gave his best sarcastic smile before turning it into a glare and stalking out of the room slamming the door behind him.



((Definitely jealous))

John looked at Sherlock go, his heart clenching for a second. It was understandable that Sherlock didn't like this, that he wouldn't accept Moriarty, but he had always been a wonderful actor, why could he not act now?
Especially now that it was so important.

There was no time to think about that now though, he turned back to Jim, his eyes soft.

"Do you want to come with us, Jim?" he asked, they wouldn't be able to do anything if he didn't agree to at least that.

"We went swimming?" He asked, still catching up to everything.
There was a silence.
"I mean, yes, um, or, um, yes, of course. Yes." He mumbled, answering the question.

((pft couldn't not))
((jealous Sherlock is jealous))
((I figure this way you can use him as a shield against Seb's rage. xD))

John didn't let himself answer the first question, he couldn't flat out lie about that, not when he could remember that day like it was yesterday.
He had been so scared, so scared he would not be able to save Sherlock.

He smiled when Jim agreed though, at least that was done. "Brilliant, get your things ready then, I will go talk to you doctors..." he said and patted his head, before walking out of the door to find Sherlock.


((Sounds like a plan XDD Seb hopefully won't be too violent in front of Jim?))
((I like jealous Sherlock >> John is not happy though >> ))

"Finally," muttered Sherlock as John stepped out the room. He felt like he'd been waiting ages. "Is everything OK then? Is he coming with us?"

John glared at him, his bad temper coming back. "Yes well, not thanks to you, you almost scared him off," he muttered, and walked closer, his voice lowering slightly.

He stopped, a few inches from Sherlock's face, so that no one else would be able to tell what he was talking about. "I know you hate Moriarty for what he has done to you, but this is not him... and this is the right time for you to use your wonderful manipulative skills. We need him," he warned him, his eyes serious. "This man is hurt and weak, how can you even think he is the same one that strapped me to a bomb?"

Sherlock looked away, embarrassed by the dressing down he had received. For some reason John's opinion always meant so much to him, and deep down he knew he'd acted childishly.

"Hmm. I suppose," he conceded. "Just don't be fooled into trusting him, that's all I'm saying John. He could just...snap back any minute and be the same old Jim Moriarty. He's still a danger. But I promise I'll try and be nicer to him."

Sherlock fiddled with one of the buttons on his coat and watched through the open door as Jim gathered up his things and spoke to one of the nurses. He sighed a little and turned back to look at John.

"I'll even apologise to him if you think that will help," he offered.

John's eyes were dark when he spoke, he was looking at Sherlock, but he wasn't really seeing. "The moment I even so much as doubt him, he will find himself with another bullet in his brain," he whispered, and then pulled away, his shoulders sagging slightly.

"You seem to think I easily trust people, Sherlock," he muttered, and walked back towards the room. "There is only one person I trust though."

He shook his head: "That would sound affected now, just try not to be too mean, he's like a child, and he is utterly alone... scared... he needs warmth..."

He can hear hushed whispers in the hall. The sterile environment with the two voices he hears now bring back another sensation--a v-necked shirt and uncomfortable undergarments. He has a flashing image of a woman with a smile and a ponytail, like a dying imprint of light on his eyes, and then it's gone again and he's more confused than ever.
Steps sound coming towards his direction--something clicks in his mind as he hears a bias to one foot--the person must have a limp. He doesn't know how he knows that exactly, he assumes it's not something one normally notices--he just hears it and he knows.
The voice in his head laughs.

((you guys I'm dying you're so amazing))
((Well, it could go that way, or you could use him as an actual, physical shield. xD I don't think John would, but Sherlock might. XD))

Sherlock stared through the window and watched Jim talking to the nurses, getting his things together, then he turned back to John impatiently looking at his watch.

"Go and see if he's ready yet will you? There's some paint I want to watch drying."

John felt something unsettle in his chest when he realized Sherlock had ignored his words completely.
Fine, if he wanted to be like that, very well.

"Just wait outside, will you?" he muttered coldly, walking back into the room.

"Ready?" he asked, his tone warming up a bit. He tried to smile to the nurse and helped her gather the few things that were still around.


((we can skip to them arriving at Baker Street?))

(( good idea. it's gonna be mayhem when they realise that Seb is waiting and has been tormenting Mrs H. Might wait for Seb to do another post before the rest of us arrive ))

Sebastian waited even more impatiently, nosing around the place out of boredom. The skull on the mantelpiece had particularly taken his attention. Who kept things like a skull in their flat?
The living room had become quite cloudy because of him smoking, not caring if the smoke alarm went off or not. He wouldn't be doing anything about it.

((I won't be particularly nice so you both should really watch what you're doing or saying around me xD))
((*Rubs hands together* *evil laughing*))

Half an hour later and the taxi had pulled up in front of 221B Baker Street. Sherlock jumped out and held the door open for John and Jim to get out, then he took out his key and turned to the front door before stopping dead - it was ajar.

Holding his hand up to stop the other two from entering he slowly pushed open the door, peering inside. Nothing. He stepped in, silently indicating John and Jim to follow. Standing in the hallway Sherlock sniffed the air like a bloodhound, the stench of freshly smoked tobacco hitting his nostrils.

"Marlboro Reds," he commented. "Moran's here."

"M-Moran? You mean... the one you had me call?" He asks, cringing preemptively just a little. "Why's... why's he here? Does he live here as well?" Well, that sounds wrong the instant it passes his lips. Violin music rings dimly in his ears, an echo of something he's forgotten.

John become particularly alert as soon as he saw Sherlock tense in front of them. He knew it meant nothing good, and he didn't need to know anything else.

He took out his gun as they entered the apartment and looked at Jim.

"Don't worry, okay?" he whispered, and smiled reassuringly. "Moran doesn't like us very much, but we'll protect you," he said, even though he was rather sure Jim didn't need any protection, not from Sebastian at least.

Reassured by the sight of John's gun, Sherlock began to creep towards the steps that led up to their flat, the smell of tobacco getting stronger, now merging with the pungent scent of Mrs Hudson's perfume. She was upstairs, he concluded. With Moran. The thought made him a little sick. And angry. He paused on the second step and turned back to the other two.

"Watch the 5th step," he whispered. "It creeks." Sherlock had offered the information more for Jim's sake than John's. He knew his flatmate was aware of their creeky step. Why wouldn't he be? He was just rather fascinated at the thought of jogging Jim Moriarty's memory. Fascinating how the mind works, he pondered as he skipped over the 5th step and straight onto the 6th.

John took the safety of his gun and prepared himself to aim, he let stay a bit behind, after him, so he could tail right behind Sherlock.

His heart was beating in his ears, he wasn't sure what they were going to find, but he knew they were not going to like it. Mrs Hudson had been home when they left, he could just wish she was alright.

Footsteps.
And low hushed voices.
Clearly, they thought Sebastian couldn't hear them and he had. Sensitive hearing. He'd been listening for any sign of movement or voices. Now he heard them and kept silent himself.
Sebastian didn't have to get up for he was already standing, waiting on their return. Any minute and he'd come face to face with one of the men he despised more than any other. Sherlock Holmes.
He watched the door expectedly, knowing from him leaving the front door ajar and the endless smell of smoke that filled the room, they probably knew he was here. Or at least someone.

As they reached the top of the stairs Sherlock slowly pushed back the door that led into the flat. It creaked as it opened, inch by inch revealing the tall figure of Sebastian Moran, silently smoking a cigarette and glaring down at them with hatred and menace in his eyes.

"Mr. Moran," Sherlock smiled, unafraid. "What a pleasure." He glanced around his flat. It had been ransacked. Cushions, books and chemistry equipment lay strewn and broken all over the floor. Sherlock felt a flash of anger. There was no immediate sign of Mrs Hudson...although he knew she was up here somewhere.

He turned and locked eyes with Sebastian. "We brought you a little surprise," he said and stepped back to reveal Jim. "John felt sorry for him."

Sebastian threw the cigarette carelessly to the ground, soon afterwards stepping on it and rubbing it into the carpet without caring what anyone thought.
He gritted his teeth as Sherlock spoke, not bothering to listen until Jim had been mentioned. He didn't believe him until he glanced over and sure enough, Jim was standing slightly behind John watching intently.
Sebastian glared from Sherlock to John, his lip curling. On the outside he looked calm but it felt like there was a caged animal inside him, desperate to get out.
"Why did you bring him here?" he demanded, his voice like acid. His temper was quickly rising and soon enough he wouldn't be able to control any outbursts.

John was quick to aim his gun at Sebastian, he was not going to let him out his sight, and if he had to kill him, he would. Happily. "Where is Mrs Hudson?" he asked, looking around briefly, he was worried.

He didn't step away from Jim though, somehow scared Sebastian's madness would scare the man as well. He was a ticking bomb, he could tell, so he let Sherlock handle the talking.

Jim's internal voices were going mad, as was he from the tension in the room. There were...there were guns pointed and everyone was angry and he felt a strong urge to curl up in the corner of the room and try to hide. Questions were spitting from the lips of all of the other three men and none of them were being answered and his head was whirling and it hurt again.
He swallowed hard, eyes flicking about, trying not to do something silly or anything that would set off the building tension.
The room looked familiar, and through the smell of smoke and chemicals he could detect...was that apple? Violins continued to play, and then suddenly stopped.
Bach.
The name echoed in his head.
Key.
Villain.
He made a choked sound in his throat. Don't know what to do, what to do...

((Gonna be gone for the next two or three days, limited internet, so sorry. :C Try to reply, but might not be able to.))

John aiming the gun at Sebastian only made him roll his eyes. He smirked as their landlady was mentioned, remembering the events from earlier.
"Mrs... Hudson. Right, that's her name. She was too busy bawling her eyes out to tell me," he paused, a grin spreading across his face. "Don't worry, she's fine."
Another pause.
"No need to point a gun at my head, I'm not going to... never mind. I'm unarmed anyway. Now why did you bring him here?" he asked, indicating towards Jim.
Sebastian watched him for a few minutes, his anger fading away until he looked back at the other two. His eyes narrowed, fists clenched by his sides.

"Where is she?" he asked, his gun still openly pointed at him, there was no way he was taking it down yet, even though Sebastian seemed to be calming down. Amazing how having Jim in the room could help, he thought briefly.

"He is staying with us, he needs a place to stay and he needs help... and as you might know, I am a doctor," he explained quickly, not stepping away from Jim.
He looked back at him.
"Don't worry Jim, he's not going to hurt you..." he tried to be reassuring. "No one is going to hurt you," and he looked at Sherlock pointedly.