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A Bit Worse	By : VulpineBeesKnees Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 2624 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
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A/N: If you haven't read part one - A Bit Not Good - I highly suggest you go read that first. We will be updating on Monday's and Friday's again. Go follow us on tumblr
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“Don’t leave me John.”
The words echoed in his mind painfully. John had hardly made it down the road before a black car pulled up beside him. Assuming it was Mycroft, or someone working for him, John stuffed his hands deep into his pockets and kept walking. He was not ready to face Sherlock, let alone all of their friends. He had been wanting this, he’d known he had. If he had wanted to stop Sherlock from kissing him he could have pulled away, but no he’d kissed him back. The worst part was how ridiculously naive he felt.
He should have know this was coming, been ready for it, but no. He had run away. John wasn’t even sure what kind of experience Sherlock had in this area. God what impression had he given the poor sod by running away.
“I’m sorry....”
John let out a defeated groan, he needed to go back and fix this before it was too late.
The car had rolled along slowly, following him down the road. This was between him and Sherlock, not Mycroft or any of their friends. Besides, their butting in had caused this mess. John turned around, ready to tell whoever it was off but was surprised to see Mary, her arms crossed over the open window of the backseat with her chin resting delicately on top of her arms.
She smiled sweetly, almost an innocent look on her face. “What are you doing out by yourself on Christmas Eve?” She cocked her head to the side, feigning interest. “No one to spend the evening with?”
He hesitated for a moment, before shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it Mary. I’ll see you at work next week.” John turned to keep walking, but was stopped after a moment by her hand on his. When had she gotten out of the car? She tugged at his wrist softly, turning him to face her.
“We’ve missed you at work this week.” She stood waiting for him to respond in any way, but drained and confused John just stood there with a look on his face that said ‘Get on with it. I have places to be.’
When it became apparent that he wasn’t going to offer any information she continued. “Just let me give you a ride. My father and I are on our way home now.” She gestured toward the black car.
Shaking his head John pulled his hand back from hers, “It’s fine Mary. I’m just down the road.”
A delicate falsetto tone of male voice rang out from inside the open vehicle. “Mary...”
Her face twitched in irritation before turning back to John, the smile quickly returning. Before John knew what was happening she had raised her other hand, which had been closed in a tight fist at her side, and blew a fine powder into his face.
“Bloody hell Mary!” John exclaimed. Done with whatever she was playing at, worried about she had just done to him, John jumped back. He just had enough time to try and contemplate what she might have been doing when she asked again.
“Go on and get in the car John.” The false smile had stretched a little wider, making her look a bit predatory.
No.
The thought rang out in John’s mind, loud and clear, but his body didn’t listen. Stripped of any free will, John climbed into the back seat of the dark car internally screaming. An older man was driving and he turned in his seat to cock his head at John, flashing a malicious grin. He had a soft face, but smile plastered across his features was almost predatory.
“Ah, John. How kind of you to join us." He turned back as Mary slid into the car and John felt the car begin to pull away from the curb.
Mary was sitting too close, her hand caressing the side of his cheek. Whatever she had just drugged him with made it impossible for him to react in anyway, all he could do was observe. "You're going to be a very, very good boy Johnny. You just sit still until we tell you otherwise." Her entire demeanor had changed and her voice was sickly sweet. How could this be the woman he’d been working with for years? "Not that you have much choice." Letting out a short laugh she fell back against the seat, running one hand through Johns hair. "Things would have been a lot easier had you not turned me down. Right daddy?"
"It's all worked out for the best." The voice from the man in the front of the car floated back, "Have you figured out it out yet? The drug?"
John felt his head shake no, he was terrified.
"No? Scopolamine. Heard of it?"
Immediately John responded, but his voice sounded foreign, and monotone. "It's used in sedatives. Higher doses cause the victim to lose all free will" Fear flooded his mind as he registered his own answer.
"Good!” He exclaimed, “Took a bit of leg work to get ahold of it, but it was definitely worth it, don’t you think? Anyhow, just so you understand, from now on I own you. You are a pawn in my game and if Sherlock doesn’t play, I will not hesitate to dispose of you. If he isn't careful you will be dead by the end of this."
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Sherlock stared for a long moment at the black screen, his stomach churning and a cold sweat forming across his brow.
“Who is this?” He asked, his voice low and dangerous.
“Oh my dear boy, who do you think?” The camera changed from black to being moved around and then finally a man’s face became visible. He had a high forehead,and his cheekbones were prominent, though not as much so as his own, his lips were thin and his mouth was filled with a row of small teeth that reminded Sherlock of a shark when he smiled. He couldn’t help for a moment but think the man looked somewhat familiar, which threw him off for a few seconds. He wore a heavy leather coat with a tall collar and black plastic frame glasses.
But the thing that commanded his attention once he noticed, was that John was standing in the background. From what he could tell he wasn’t bound, gagged or restrained in any way. He was just standing with his chest out and hands to his sides, a perfect image of military bearing, a pained expression on his face.
“Moriarty...” It wasn’t a question.
“Ha ha! My dear boy you are just as smart as I knew you would be. I’m so glad to finally talk to you on my own. My apologies for the delay, but I had to be sure you were ready.” His grin was wide, “I’ve just acquired a new pet you see," he turned the phone so that he was no longer in the picture, but focused solely on John. “Pretty when he stands at attention isn’t he?” A hand came out to caress John’s face, but he didn’t react, didn’t run. If Sherlock hadn’t been able to see the terrified look buried behind the blue eyes, he wouldn’t have known that John didn’t want to be there.
“What have you done to him?” The detective growled.
“My assistant just administered a small little drug to him, but don’t worry, we didn’t give him enough to kill him, just to make him..... compliant.” Sherlock wanted to throw his phone, wanted to destroy everything in the flat, but it wouldn’t make any difference. His mind was running through a list of all the drugs he knew to try and figure it out when Moriarty spoke again.
“Devil’s Breath dear, do keep up.”
Devil’s Breath. Chemically named: Scopolamine. Used in some mild sedatives but in it’s raw form can render the victim coherent but with no free will. Susceptible to any suggestion. Works within seconds, made from the Borrachero tree. Odorless. Tasteless.
Moriarty turned to look at John and commanded him down on all fours which, the man obliged, and a woman Sherlock didn’t recognize came over and sat in the small of his back, a nasty looking whip in her hand lined with metal and little spikes at the end. Sherlock wanted to cry out, but was afraid if he did so they might hurt John just for the sake of hurting him.
“I want you to play a little game with me Sherlock. Time to give Daddy a little quality time.”

“You’ve said that before. Called yourself Daddy when talking to me. Why?”
“Oh, I'm disappointed. I rather thought you’d have that figured out already. Pity. I suppose you’ll just have to work harder on that..” He gave a manic little giggle, as Sherlock’s eyes narrowed. He had so many other important things to be doing than solving an idiotic riddle. However he’d have to think more on it later when he had the chance, it could prove to be useful. Ignoring it for now, he pressed on with his questioning.
“If you’re the real Moriarty, who was Richard Brooke?”
“Richard Brook was still just a name, you had guessed correctly on the rooftop of Barts.”
“How could you possibly know I’d guessed that?” Sherlock asked, his eyes narrowing. He had been alone with, whoever Richard Brook was, and he had died upon that roof. There was no way Moriarty could know that.
“He was wearing a wire of course.”
“Mycroft would have found it. The Holmes are not as idiotic as you seem to think.”
“There were men waiting to strip his body of any evidence the moment you jumped. It was easy really. No one would suspect a doctor going out for a smoke on the roof.” Moriarty’s lips curled into a sneer, “The man who killed himself in front of you was Sebastian Moran. My son, and brother to one Mary Moran. I believe your doctor knows her well. Under the pretense of Mary Morstan to protect her from your brother’s prying eyes” He grin turned devilish and he looked back to the woman now running her nails along Johns ear and neck, paying no attention to the call what so ever.
The line was silent for a few painful moments before the camera changed. Moriarty was walking around the room so John was no longer visible. "So now my dear boy, I have some games for you to play, to prove your worth.”
“And if I refuse?” the waiver in his voice was evident. Moriarty knew he wouldn’t refuse. Not with John held captive.
‘I still owe you. Your heart is still alive...’ Moriarty knew exactly who held his heart. Nothing he could do to Sherlock could measure to watching this.
“Then your heart...” he moved around to where John was, the only one in the screen once more,the woman had let him up and he was standing at attention once more. Her hand flicked a switchblade out and drew it down John’s face, bringing blood to the surface to bubble down his temple, “Your heart will continue to bleed in worse ways until you agree to play my game.”
“You know I’ll play! Leave John alone!” The anger and fear creeping through his veins was making him shake, his head swimming at the sight of John being held at the mercy of this madman.
“Very good! I’ll send you your first clue in the morning. Sleep tight my dove!” and the call was ended.
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