Sherlock & Sebastian (violent)

John couldn't help the bitter laugh, Sherlock could be oh so silly if he wanted to. Such knowledge and such ignorance, it was just amazing. "Your opinion is the most important to me," he muttered and looked at the door.

"I know I complain a lot, and I argue with you a lot, I am short tempered and annoying... but the truth is... I don't even try with everyone else... I just.." he laughed a bit. "I just think things are worth arguing only with you..."

He frowned at himself, knowing what he said didn't make much sense, but he hoped that in the midst of that, Sherlock would find the answer he needed.
"You are not the only one who thinks people are boring..."

Sherlock focused his attention on John's words, trying to analyse their meaning. He found it touching that John cared so much about what he thought of him.

"You're not annoying," he interjected. "And I enjoy arguing with you too...."

Sherlock grinned. He knew there was a reason why him and John got on so well, but he'd never really understood it properly before. "Actually John, you're one of the few people I don't find boring. I...I enjoy your company immensely."

Sherlock let go of John's hand, for some reason now feeling slightly awkward at the physical contact. He scratched the back of his neck nervously and looked away. Discussing emotions like this was...hard. He fought the impulse to leave immediately, getting the impression that this was important to John.

John let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding, he was glad Sherlock thought so, it was very important for him, more than he usually admitted to himself.
"Then you see, sometimes it's better if I hold my tongue, to make sure our relationship doesn't change," he said with a sad smile.

He looked at his hand as Sherlock left it, resting on the bed, it felt cold now, and he hated himself for feeling lonely even though the beautiful friendship he had with Sherlock.
A little of Sherlock was better than nothing at all, he told himself.

His head was telling him he should go. He had business to attend to. He'd left Sebastian unconscious in his flat. God knows if he'd still be there or if he'd come round and if he had what had he done to the flat, wrecked it no doubt. Not to mention the files he had stolen earlier. He still had all them to look through and with John incapacitated it would be an even larger job. Then there was his phone. He'd heard it bleep earlier and was convinced it would be some kind of message from Lestrade. A case, or perhaps a new client who'd seen the number on his website. Either way he really should check his messages...but....

There was something preventing Sherlock from leaving. Aside from the fact that he didn't like to work without John, got bored alone in the flat without John and hated to see him sick and lying in a hospital bed, there was something else. It was as if they had some kind of invisible rope tying them together, or an invisible pair of handcuffs connecting them to each other forever. It felt impossible to just walk out and leave. Or at least impossibly difficult. Sherlock knew it wasn't technically impossible, that was just stupid. All the same, it was there.

Sherlock cleared his throat and glanced towards the door. "Well soldier..." he said with a grin, "You better keep fighting because...because nothing's the same without you."

For some reason a visual image flashed through Sherlock's mind of him reaching down and hugging his flatmate. His body jumped an inch forward, as if urging him to do it, but then something else stopped him, some kind of internal conflict. John wouldn't want to be hugged. Would he? He felt tension building up inside his muscles, then quickly reaching a breaking point, and as if he was no longer in control of his body he leant over the bed and threw his arms round John, burying his head in his shoulder.

"Just get better damn you," he mumbled, before standing up quickly and regaining his composure.

John frowned when he saw Sherlock react to his inner thoughts, he had no idea what was happening, but after a while the detective hugged him.
It was quick, too quick, but he had felt his scent and his warmth, and they made him dizzy.

He smiled softly, trying to control the hope that spread in his chest. "Thank you, Sherlock, I will..."



((Should we skip ahead to when John is a bit sicker? Or if you want Sherlock to have a scene with Seb first ))

(( Yeah, I'll contact Seb and arrange a few scenes...seeing as it started as a Sherlock & Seb one...we've just taken over with our Johnlocking & reverse Alone On The Water...but there'll be plenty of time for that later... ))

((Okay, just let me know when you need me again ^^ ))

Sebastian woke up at least a half an hour later--possibly longer, he couldn't tell--and tried focussing his eyes on his surroundings, an awful pain suddenly searing at the back of his head. It took him a while to remember where he was and what had happened, his mind racing and not thinking straight.

He attempted to stand up and soon found himself collapsing onto the floor again, groaning as the pain rose. His hand reached back to feel his head, hissing as he found a lump, his eyes crossing over to the skull he had been knocked out with. His hair also felt quite damp, indicating he had probably been bleeding and sure enough when he pulled his hand back, his fingers were stained with blood.

Sebastian's eyes searched the room for Sherlock, finding it deserted. Nothing seemed to stir at all. No sounds or anything to show someone else was present in the room. He stood up carefully and regained his balance, thinking it would be best if he just left and Sherlock could find him gone. But Sebastian had the sudden urge to get revenge, his eyes suddenly resting on the bag with Michael Fisher's belongings and information.

"No evidence... no information." he said to himself, smirking as he staggered across the room and lifted the bag, tipping its contents out. Sebastian planned on burning and destroying every item and piece of possible evidence Sherlock had managed to get, knowing he would never find out anything if everything had been destroyed.

Sherlock lingered outside John's room until he saw the Doctor go in. He wanted to be sure they were looking after him properly before he left. He felt sad and quite alone as he walked slowly down the steps and outside onto the street. It was strange suddenly being without John after all this time. Even though they still did plenty of things separately, the idea that they now had no choice but to exist separately, that free will had been removed, aggravated him greatly.

Sherlock sighed deeply as he hailed a taxi and got in, telling the cabbie to take him back to Baker Street. At least he had is work to go back to...and possibly an unconscious or conscious and rather angry Sebastian Moran. That should keep his mind occupied for a while and stop him worrying too much about John. He wondered idly whether his body was in a fit state to fight should it be required again. He inspected his cuts, wounds and bandages. He still ached but if he had to, he would.

Sebastian had started burning documents and records first, happily rummaging through everything and deciding how to destroy them all. He had already gotten through half of the items in the nest half hour. It was a start at least. Most things had been thrown out the window and shattered to pieces, others broke in half or if possible, burned. Some torn and wires pulled out of them, Sebastian making sure nothing would be able to get fixed or used as evidence. It was rather fun actually; and seeing Sherlock's reaction when he came back to find the mess and everything ruined, preventing him from using it, would be highly entertaining.

((I'm just awful xD After you going and finding everything, I destroy it...))

The taxi pulled up outside 221B and Sherlock jogged up the stairs towards the flat. He could tell instantly that something wasn't quite right, and when as soon as he reached the top he was struck by the mess. Papers and documents strewn about all over the place, some of them half burnt, others ripped up and destroyed, and Sebastian Moran standing huddled over a small fire he had built out of their laundry bin. Sherlock realised immediately what had been going on here and cursed himself for leaving Sebastian alone with the important evidence. He'd just been too caught up in worrying about John.

"Sebastian what have you done?" he growled as he approached the sniper, snatching one of the documents out of his hand.

Sebastian had heard Sherlock coming up the stairs but ignored him, continuing to burn documents and important papers. He knew Sherlock wouldn't be too happy after going through all the trouble just to retrieve everything but he didn't care. The detective deserved it for knocking him out unconscious in the first place. Leaving the bag where Sebastian could see it and easily get it had been a mistake. Although he had been enjoying himself until Sherlock had decided to interrupt the only thing keeping him entertained.

"I just burned and wrecked everything, you know." he sneered, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he looked at the mess he had made and the other man's obvious angered and annoyed face.

As Sherlock realised the full extent of what had been going on, he felt the anger and hatred burning inside him, building up and taking over him. The bitterness...the frustration. He grabbed Sebastian by the shoulders and spun him round fully, before punching him square on in the face.

He fell backwards into the laundry bin and the ash remains of the rest of the documents spilled out all over the floor. Sherlock bent over the sniper and hauled him back up to his feet with the scruff of his shirt collar.

"You shouldn't have done that," he muttered quietly but threateningly. "You really shouldn't."

There had been no time to react or say anything else before Sherlock had punched Sebastian in the face and knocked him flying backwards. Only to create even more of a mess as ash was scattered everywhere. Sebastian then found himself being trailed back up to his feet again by the collar, soon to be face to face with Sherlock.

His immediate instinct was to punch the other man back but instead he stared blankly back at him, his fists clenched at his sides.
"Even I get bored sometimes... detective."

Sherlock looked around the flat, contemplating what to do next. It was obvious he needed to make Sebastian pay for his foolish act of destruction, but his first instinct was to try and salvage what he could from the mess.

Ignoring the sniper's snarling face and clenched fists, he began to pick up various documents off the floor, regardless of the half burnt state they were in and stack them into a pile on his desk.

Sebastian watched as Sherlock started to pick up documents and papers from the floor, continuing to look around at the rest of the mess with a gleeful smirk on his face. How could the other possibly get information out of burnt documents?

"I think I did a pretty good job." he sneered, watching Sherlock's back as he piled the documents on his desk and glancing to the door reproachfully at times.

Sherlock placed what remained of the documents on the desk. It wasn't much. Hardly anything in fact and he doubted whether any of the information he could glean from it would be of any use. He sighed, rather angrily then addressed Sebastian again.

"I'm afraid I can't let you get away with this," he said calmly. "And then there's the obvious fact that you put my flatmate in hospital, not to mention the mess you caused in here. Poor Mrs Hudson will have a fright. No, no. This won't do. This won't do at all..."

Sebastian watched Sherlock warily, slightly worried about what would be brought upon him now for creating such a mess and ruining the other's chances of getting information. Although he didn't dare show any flicker of emotion and kept his face expressionless. Sebastian really didn't care about the fact that Sherlock wouldn't get the information now. He had no right to know anything. How would he like people knowing his secrets that were important and not for anyone else to know?

"So you're just going to keep me here to torture me like the insane psychopathic bastard you are?" he asked, his eyes turning cold again. The question reminded him of his boss, Jim. His dead boss.
Sebastian could feel the hatred for the other man building up inside him again, his eyes blazing with anger. He'd be ready for whatever Sherlock had planned and hopefully the other would be joining his own friend, John, in the hospital when they were finished.

Sherlock took a few steps toward Sebastian and stared deep into his eyes, walking slowly forward until they practically had their heads pressed together they were so close.

"That's right," he growled softly, "now go and sit in that chair so I can tie you up." And he pointed to the hard backed chair near his desk.

Sebastian kept his eyes fixed on Sherlock, glaring back with a look like daggers. He wasn't going to be ordered about that easily by someone like him. Especially him.

"Make me." he snarled, a challenging look flitting across his face as he kept his feet planted to the floor, not daring to move an inch anywhere near the chair.

Sherlock smiled, knowing it wouldn't be that easy. No one would go and sit in a chair to be tortured willingly, they'd have to be pretty bloody stupid to do that.

"OK fine," he sighed, then he grabbed Sebastian's shirt with both hands and hauled him towards the chair, slamming his back down on the desk. A petri dish with some chemicals in clattered to the floor and smashed.

"Now you've ruined one of my experiments too," he said through gritted teeth.

Sebastian hadn't expected the next part.
Sherlock's sudden grip on his shirt and pulling towards the chair took him off guard and he couldn't do anything much but accept it before he had time to react or shove the other off.

His eyes followed Sherlock's to the smashed experiment on the floor for a minute, making an even bigger mess which clearly wasn't needed. Although it had been part Sherlock's fault.
"Your welcome." he said sarcastically, unable to hide the smirk now forming on his face.

Sherlock angrily let go of Sebastian's shirt and bent down to look at the ruined experiment. There was no hope of salvaging it now. He'd have to start all over again, which was particularly annoying because the bacteria had been festering for over a week now. It would delay the results considerably.

His attention rested on the largest shard of glass from the broken dish, and he picked it up carefully. Then he stood up quickly and with his other hand grabbed the back of Sebastian's head and began to push the glass threateningly towards the other man's eye.

Sebastian couldn't help but feel amused by the other's anger, knowing it wasn't a good sign to show. Annoying people, yes, he was good at it but somehow Sherlock was a more fun person to mess with. Even though the hatred he felt for him made Sebastian want to kill the other man there and then if possible.

He knew Sherlock was obviously going to torture him again. It was expected from him and the glass had been a great excuse for Sherlock to use. Now Sebastian could regret it falling over and smashing in the first place.
He tried turning his head to the side, though it wasn't much use. He'd end up scarred any second if he didn't do something. Following his instincts, Sebastian lifted his foot and aimed it at Sherlock's stomach.
At least he hadn't been tied up first. Something Sherlock had seemed to get distracted by the broken experiment without thinking first.

Sherlock bent double with a blow to the stomach, and the shattered glass dropped out of his hand and onto the floor. He staggered backwards, the breath knocked right out of him, and put a hand out behind him to steady himself on the armchair.

He felt his hand ball up into a fist and once he'd managed to get his breath back he stood up straight and slammed that first right into Sebastian's face.
"Do you really want to fight me again Sebastian?" he snarled.