Sherlock & Sebastian (violent)

After ending up on the floor, Sebastian rolled over so he ended up straddling the other man's chest, pinning his arms down with his knees. He gripped Sherlock's throat firmly again, ruthlessly squeezing tightly.

His anger and hatred for the other filled his thoughts and eyes, forcing him to grip tighter and put more pressure on him while he cursed and spat in his face, wanting to let him choke to death now and then.

Sherlock was temporarily stilled by the huge hands gripped tightly round his neck, and his own hands fell helpless and ineffecient by his side as he coughed and spluttered, struggling to breath. He could feel the pressure pressing down on his throat, the blood rushing to his head. His vision became blurred and hazy.

Do something! He screamed at himself. He knew if he didn't do something now he'd pass out and Sebastian would kill him. Do something. Sherlock focused his attention on his right arm. Punch him. Punch him for fuck's sake. He split his mind in two. One half dealing with the choking, the other half concentrating on forming a fist with his right hand. Finally something clicked. He brought up his right fist and slammed it into Sebastian's ear. It threw him off guard and he released the pressure round Sherlock's neck. Finally he felt able to move again, the life rushing back into him. He shoved Sebastian aside and rolled over onto his front to sit up, struggling to get his breath back. His windpipe felt crushed and damaged.

Sebastian flinched as Sherlock's fist met his ear, making him lose concentration on what he was trying to focus on for a few seconds. Sebastian stood up and advanced towards the other man threateningly, towering over him.

He lifted his foot and forcefully kicked him back down again, placing his right foot on Sherlock's chest. Sebastian pressed his foot down harder, watching gleefully as he stared at the other struggling to breathe.

Sherlock was just about getting his breath back from being choked when he felt a heavy foot kick him back to the floor and soon Sebastian's boot was pressing down upon his chest. His lungs struggled to get the air in, he gasped and spluttered, momentarily helpless.

Then he felt his hands fasten around Sebastian's leg and with a loud cry he heaved himself to one side whilst keeping hold of the othe rman's leg, forcing him to lose his balance and topple over onto the floor.

Now they were both on the floor, both equal. Sherlock crawled over to Sebastian and grabbed his shirt collar with his left hand before repeatedly punching him with his right. He had a strong right arm, he could quite happily keep it up all night.

Sebastian let out a small whine of pain, his face already aching from earlier. He forgot everything he was supposed to be doing for a few seconds before reacting quickly and kicking Sherlock in the stomach.

Sebastian shoved the other away from him and reached into his pocket, bringing out a switch-blade and advancing towards Sherlock again. He flipped the blade up and placed it the point under the other man's chin, holding him down with his other hand.

Sherlock tried to struggle away when he saw the knife but Sebastian had large strong hands holding him down onto the floor and pinning down his arms. He writhed underneath him and tried to kick up his legs, knee him in the stomach, the groin, anywhere, but Sebastian had his whole body weight pressed down on top of him.

He tossed his head away from the blade of the knife and his eyes fell upon John's revolver, lay scattered on the floor from earlier. If only he could reach it. He tried to free his left hand, pulling and straining, all the while expecting Sebastian to slash him with the knife at any minute.

Sebastian's eyes followed Sherlock's to the revolver lying across the floor before swivelling back to his face. He dragged the blade down towards the other man's neck, leaving a long, red streak of blood.

"I don't think so." he hissed, stretching his leg out and kicking the revolver further away from them both, moving the knife to his arm and slicing down it painfully slow, ripping the shirt sleeve and exposing more blood.

Sherlock winced and cried out a little as the knife sliced across the side of his neck and down his arm. He watched the blood seeping through his torn shirt.

"That was my best shirt," he snapped. His left arm, which he had managed to free slightly, made a move to attack Sebastian, and he punched him slightly in the ribs. It wasn't a very strong punch as he still had most of his arm trapped, but it was the best he could do for now. He was still tussling to get his legs free. He lashed out with his right foot and made contact with Sebastian's shin.

"Was that your best shirt? Too bad." he sneered, watching the blood seep through the other man's shirt before he was suddenly taken aback at the fact Sherlock kicked him. Sebastian hadn't been expecting it.

"Sneaky bastard." he growled, bringing his fist to meet with Sherlock's face.

Sherlock felt his lip explode and the blood gushing into his mouth. It was possible a tooth had become dislodged although he couldn't be certain. The sudden pain of the punch brought him a fresh rush of adrenalin and a new release of energy. He kicked upwards with both of his legs, managing to release Sebastian's pressure on him just enough to free his arms so he could shove the man away and off of him.

Sherlock scrambled away across the floor and dived towards John's revolver. He grabbed it, spun round on his back then half sat up, both hands on the revolver, pointing it at Sebastian, then began to laugh.

"Do you give up yet?"

"No." he spat, staring at Sherlock unblinkingly.

Sebastian stood up and trailed the other man up by the collar with him so they were now both face to face. Sherlock still had John's revolver pointed at him but Sebastian was not going to show any sign of fear or any other emotion on his face.

"Do you give up?" he asked, his lip curling into a sneer.

"Why would I give up?" Sherlock smiled. "I'm the one holding the gun. Remember? I could just shoot you."

Sherlock studied the other man's face for signs of fear. He was giving nothing away. A worthy opponent, he noted with interest.

"Just asking." he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Are you really holding a gun? I didn't even realise." he added sarcastically, watching the other man's face carefully.

Sherlock certainly was harder to take down than John. A few kicks in the stomach and he had ended up needing to go to hospital. Sherlock on the other hand, was definitely a challenge.

Sherlock sighed and put the gun down on the mantelpiece.

"OK," he said. "I suppose I'm not going to shoot you. That would be...boring."

He raised his fists in front of his face. "Much better the old fashioned way."

Sebastian raised his eyebrows at Sherlock setting the gun down on the mantelpiece, he'd thought Sherlock was going to shoot him there and then.

"All right. No guns." he said, eyeing the other man suspiciously in case he happened to be lying and might just grab the revolver again, quickly.

As soon as Sherlock raised his fists, Sebastian did in response, grinning. He found it rather more of a game than trying to practically kill each other.

Sherlock danced towards Sebastain on his tip toes and threw a right hook towards him, landing square on the other man's jaw.

"You done much boxing?" he asked.

Sherlock smiled. He was enjoying this. This was fun.

Sebastian stumbled back about an inch but regained his balance, throwing a punch back at Sherlock and hitting his cheek.

"I suppose." he answered, watching Sherlock and ducking as the other man attempted to punch him again.

Sebastian grinned nastily, the blade strewn across the floor instead of in his hand. Sherlock had decided not to use a gun. So, he wasn't going to use a knife.

Sherlock felt his head snap back and a sharp pain shoot down his neck at the force of Sebastian's punch, but he quickly regained himself and focused, although he could feel a dull pain beginning to throb in his left cheek.

"Not bad." he grinned.

He hurled another punch and Sebastian ducked, so Sherlock tried again with his slightly weaker left arm and managed to land one right on his ear.

Sebastian felt another shot of pain rush through him as Sherlock punched him again and quickly took no notice of it. He could feel the adrenaline build up inside, the insane side of him showing.

"You're not so bad yourself." he added, giving a menacing grin back.

He returned the punch--harder this time--followed by a sharp back slap across the face.

The back slap took Sherlock by surprise and he staggered a little, grabbing hold of the armchair to steady himself, before giving a short laugh. Sebastian was quite a worthy opponent.

He stood up straight again, regaining his composure and used a double punch technique, one punch hitting Sebastian's face and another one digging him in the stomach.

Sebastian's breath was cut short as the punch to his stomach hit, giving him a horrible, sick feeling. He wasn't going to give up that easily.

He inhaled deeply to catch his breath back. He was quick to throw a punch at Sherlock's jaw before bringing it upwards to hit his chin abruptly afterwards.

Sherlock felt his whole face rattling with the force of the punch and as another fist hit his chin he bit down on his tongue feeling a small piece of it get sliced off. He cried out with the agony of it and spat into his hand. A tiny piece of his own tongue. His mouth filled up with blood.

"Aaarh...fuck..." he gurgled. He could feel his tongue swelling up. "Jesus...you bastard...."

Sherlock hurled his whole body towards Sebastian and fell on top of him on the floor, the blood from his mouth dripping onto the other man's face. His left hand and body held him down whilst his right fist delivered a few blows to the lower abdomen.

Sebastian watched Sherlock spit a piece of his tongue into his hand, amused. He was too used to this sort of thing to get creeped out by it and always--in a way--found it entertaining. That's right, just choke on your own blood.

"Your welcome." he half-laughed, his voice bitter.

Sebastian gave a startled gasp as he fell to the floor--Sherlock on top of him, pinning him down--and thrashed about in attempt to throw the other off him. "Get... off!" he shouted, feeling the blood drip onto his face.

Sherlock rolled back as Sebastian gave him quite a big shove. He turned round onto his hands and knees and coughed up a load of blood onto the floor.

"Jesus..." he muttered and looked at his watch. "I need to...I need to go....see John."

In truth, he was feeling a little weak from blood loss and the pain was starting to get to him, but at the same time he was reluctant to call of the fight. It felt like failing. He was hoping Sebastian would want to give up, but with a grim smile he realised that if this man wanted to fight him to the death, then he was fully prepared to do so.

He looked up, and spitefully spat some blood onto Sebastian's face. "Or do you want some more?"

Sebastian wiped the blood from his face, glaring at Sherlock. He didn't care what the other man would do next, he was only here because Sherlock had brought him here in the first place. Giving up now was an option but he didn't feel like it. Not yet.

"If you want to go see John so much, go." he spat, his eyes locked with Sherlock's in a glare.

Sebastian advanced towards him once more and towered over him. He watched more blood drip from Sherlock's mouth for a few seconds before shoving him again to see how weak he was from the blood loss.