Sherlock & Sebastian (violent)

Sebastian watched gleefully as he saw the pain he had caused the man before him. A malicious grin spread across his face and he waited for John to come closer before he kneed him between the legs, causing him more pain.

"Come back over... I dare you." he mocked, continuing to struggle vigorously.

John groaned, finding himself on the floor again. This was not going well.

Anger burned in his chest, together with the pain that spread like a cancer.
"You bastard," he mumbled, launching himself against him, his arm coming back to deliver a punch across the other's face.

Sebastian struggled harder against the handcuffs, the urge to punch John back. And worse. The rope binding him loosened again and he glared at the other man, violently thrashing about, cursing. Probably loud enough for the whole of Baker Street to hear him.

"You deserved it." he spat, his eyes blazing with anger.

"How?? Trying to be nice to you?" he sneered, stumbling to his feet, he could see Sebastian was about to get free, and his gun was no where in sight.

He held his fists up then, an equal fight was his only chance to come out of this alive. So he waited for Sebastian to try and attack, ready to fight.

"Nice? Nice?! You weren't being nice. You just watched as he tortured me you twat."

Sebastian finally managed to get untied and immediately stood up, swaying slightly from the blood loss. He paused for a few minutes to retain his balance before advancing towards John, towering over him.

He wouldn't be able to hit him if his hands were still handcuffed behind his back. Sebastian didn't do anything but glower down at him, thinking for a solution.

"You wouldn't mind taking these off me, would you?" he asked, turning round to show his bloodied, scarred wrists. There was silence as he paused again, trying to think of something persuasive. "If you take them off I'll just go, no harm done. I'll just leave and won't attack you again... promise."

Sebastian kept his face expressionless, giving John a small smile which he had to force upon himself. It wasn't an easy thing to do for someone he despised so much.

Even though he was the one being attacked now, John couldn't help the guilt that flared in his chest when he was reminded of the fact he had just watched Sherlock torture the older man.
"Don't act innocent," he snapped back, his eyes restless on the other's figure. "You could have just told the names. It's not like you are still working for Moriarty anyway!"

He laughed dryly at the other's guts. "If you wanted to leave without troubles you would have done so already, you surely don't need me to help you," he protested, ready to punch him. "I am not Sherlock, but I can tell you want to kill me just by looking into your eyes... and you want that just because I know how you feel about your dead boss."

"Don't you fucking dare mock him!" he snarled, gritting his teeth. His temper was rising, wanting to just murder John on the spot. Yet again, the handcuffs were preventing him from doing that.

Instead, he kicked the other man hard in the shin, continually cursing at him. His hands weren't much use being stuck behind his back so he could do very little. Sebastian glared at the other man, getting a bit light headed again from the shouting. His balance wasn't being very well kept either.

John grimaced, stumbling, his leg seizing up, reacting pretty badly at the blow. He was too old for this.
Oh well.
He managed to stay up. It was good enough.

"I am not mocking anyone, you dimwit," he exclaimed, punching Sebastian in the face, moving back again before he could get another kick. "You wouldn't recognize a bit of compassion even if it hit you in the face, would you? I said I felt the same!"


((If Seb manages to knock John out, I am sure he can find Sherlock's keys for the handcuffs >> ))

"No, you don't feel the same. How would you know? Sherlock's alive. Jim's... dead." he snapped, looking at the other man with great dislike.

Sebastian moved forward and kneed him in the gut, shaking with his anger and hate. Honestly, he couldn't be feeling emotional, could he? Sebastian concentrated on John but his mind refused to let him. He sat down, feeling light headed again. The last thing he wanted to do was to faint here.

"Bloody hell, you are slow," he protested, shaking his head. "Sherlock was gone for three years! I thought he was dead for three bloody years!"

John still hadn't properly recovered from the other blows, and he was being stupid really, trying to talk instead of fighting, the blow to his gut made him fall to his knees, panting and squinting his eyes, trying to focus again on reality and not on the bloody pain.

"Three years? Oh please. Try the rest of your life. That's my bloody point." he scowled, rolling his eyes.

Sebastian watched John, not bothering to get up and do anything else to him. He'd leave him lying there if he had to. He wouldn't be helping anyone who wasn't willing to help him either. It was only fair.

John laughed even though he was still nauseated by the kick he had received to the stomach. "I didn't know it was going to be just three years... they felt like the bloody rest of my life," he muttered, and closed his eyes for a moment.

"That's the best I can do about understanding you, you can't say I haven't tried... that's the most you can get from anyone else around anyway, I assure you," he hissed, he didn't want to remember the last three years, his own personal hell.

"Yeah, but Sherlock is back now. That was just luck. Jim is dead. He isn't coming back ever and it's his fault!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the suddenly silenced flat.

Sebastian miserably lowered his eyes to the ground, not bothering to make eye contact with the other man. He didn't care about John's loss. At least he had his best friend back. Sebastian was left with nothing. He glared at John for laughing, finding nothing funny at all about it before staring back down at the floor, playing with his fingers behind his back.

"I don't want to be picky, but it is Moriarty who obsessed over Sherlock and forced him to fake his death, not to mention, it was the same Moriarty who killed himself... Sherlock never touched him, so don't give me any of that crap!" he muttered, and looked up at him.

"I know how it feels like, Sebastian, but you have to admit we aren't to blame... Moriarty was insane, and you loved him I guess, but that doesn't make him less insane," he protested, and then sighed tiredly.

Sherlock is going to be so annoyed if I get killed like this...

Moran's description of Michael Fisher was quite accurate. Sherlock had heard the name, and seen the man in question a couple of times round Baker Street. He knew he either lived or worked in the area. He has aldo heard it said that he had connections with Moriarty but nothing ever concrete. Hearing it from Moran's lips only helped confirm it.

After leaving 221B Sherlock jumped in a taxi and headed to the nearest bank. He was intending to try every bank in the area until he found the one Michael Fisher worked at. Turned out he wouldn't need to. At the first major bank he went to he got the information he needed. Using Lestrade's ID he made a few simple enquiries and soon mnaged to acquire Fisher's home address. It was child's play. Within ten minutes he was in a cab heading over there.

Sebastian stood up and paced the room, irritated. Finding the key to unlock the handcuffs would do him some good at least. It was so easy to just walk through the door and leave but something was just preventing him from doing that. He didn't feel as though this was quite finished yet. Sebastian continued to ignore the other man, not caring about what he was saying because he refused to agree, snapping his head up when something John said caught his attention.

"Loved... him?" he half-laughed, walking over to the other man and towering over him. "What makes you think that?"

John moved to stand up again, stepping away from Sebastian, ready to punch him if he got any closer. "What makes me think that?" He scoffed, and ran a bruised hand on his brow. "You are a bloody open book, everything you feel is right on your face."

"You get angry if we talk about him, you blame us and can't see his faults, you protect his legacy even after three years he's been dead... I don't think the normal employer/employee relationship's standards involve that," his tone turning sarcastic towards the end.


((And also John is in love with Sherlock, so he can see himself in Seb, but he won't admit to that XD))

Sebastian stared at John in silence, not sure how to reply. The other man had been very accurate and finding the right words to respond with was difficult. Sebastian couldn't even joke about it in anyway.

He cleared his throat, turning his back on the other. He would not be admitting anything no matter how much it hurt and John had only started to annoy him again, just by talking about his dead boss like he had said.

"Just shut up about it." he hissed, distracting his thoughts by searching for the key.

John rolled his eyes at the other man's words: "Just my point," he exclaimed, "You still love him," he whispered, wondering what he was trying to do, wandering around the room like that.

"Are you going to fight or are you going to go? Because you know I will have to knock you out if you keep doing that, I don't really want to die..." he muttered, looking at him carefully.

"I said shut up!" he snapped, continuing to search for the key. "Look, if I was planning on killing you, you'd be dead by now."

Sebastian was finding it more difficult to distract himself, John's voice just droned on and on. Did he know how to even be quiet?

"I want to go but I need the bloody key for these handcuffs you prat. Make yourself useful and help me. It's the least you could do if you don't want a fucking murderer in your flat. I might just be tempted to kill you instead."

John rolled his eyes: "I am not that easy to kill, I can fight you know, I was in the army," he pointed out, he had been trained to fight after all, the reason he was still standing.

"Sebastian, if you really want to run away, you could worry about your handcuffs when you are free, not here... any moment now Sherlock will be back, and what do you think will happen?" he asked, and shook his head. "I am not going to help you, but something tells me you prefer to stay..." he took a long pause. "You must be quite bored, aren't you?"

"I don't prefer to stay actually but I have nothing better to do." he sighed, deciding to give up on the search for the key. Knowing Sherlock, he probably had it with him.

"I suppose I'll go now and somehow find a way to get these off me." he muttered, indicating towards the handcuffs. They were painfully digging into his flesh and the blood had dried up around them.

Sebastian made his way towards the door, pausing to turn around and look at John. "What're you going to say to him when he comes back and finds me gone?"

Sherlock arrived at Michael Fisher's apartment block. He knew the man was at work but he wasn't actually there to speak to him in person. At least, not just yet. He saw someone approaching the building with a key. They let themselves in and Sherlock caught hold of the closing door, following in behind them. He jogged up to the second floor and approached Fisher's flat. He rattled the door handle, then sholdered it a couple of times before settling on picking the lock instead. Within 5 minutes he was in. He headed straight for the man's laptop, hacked his password and had a quick scan through his e-mails. Then he searched through the drawers in the desk, finding old phone books, diaries, address books. He grabbed a bag and shoved them all in, including the laptop, then proceeded to ransack the whole flat, making it look like a burglary. He smashed the TV and one of the windows and ten minutes later was in a taxi cab again heading back to Baker Street with his new bag of goodies.

John looked at him at the question, he knew he was supposed to stop him, Sherlock was going to be angry at him. At the same time though, he couldn't bring himself to torture someone, he could keep him here or attack him when the man was not being violent at all.

"I will tell him the truth," he said simply, with a shrug. Or maybe he just pitied Sebastian, because he could understand what the man was going through.
"But you know I will kill you if you menace Sherlock's life... right?"

Sebastian shrugged, hardly listening to a word John was saying. "Yeah..." he murmured, glancing towards the door a few times.

"If you're done talking, can I go now?" he asked, moving another few steps in the door's direction. He just wanted to get out quickly in case Sherlock suddenly came back and tortured him again. Sebastian was too tired and really couldn't be bothered any more.