Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

A Bit Worse	By : VulpineBeesKnees Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 2624 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: We do not own/have no affiliation with BBC's Sherlock or ACD Sherlock Holmes. No profit is made from this.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
John was shaking by the end of the call. Save for the demonstration he had been standing at attention since they'd arrived. He had been walked in with his eyes closed so he had no idea where he was, and hadn't been told anything. He’d been left standing alone for what he could only assume was hours before Moriarty and Mary had returned.
Moriarty walked slowly up to John, like he was stalking prey. The grin had faded, an angry and confused scowl taking its place.
"He won't save you. I'll make him kill himself, for good this time, before I give you back to him." His face was barely an inch from John’s, he towered over him and his breath was hot and sticky. Moriarty glowered down at John for a moment longer before turning away in a huff. He stopped in the doorway of the small dark room and turned to glare at John.
"Why?!" He screamed back at John, his voice almost a growl. "You're not special, you're ordinary and pathetic. And he allows such a disgusting weakness to control him! Why!?"
John bit at his lip in an attempt to not answer, but the drug was still coursing through him. One word slipped out painfully. "Love." John saw the anger his forced response caused immediately.
Moriarty swooped back down on him before he knew what was happening. "He can not love!" Grabbing John by the back of his hair he wrenched his neck back, pressing something cold and sharp to his neck. "He does not love you, he can't love anything or anyone! He. Is. Me."
Pushing Johns head forward he threw the man to the ground, before stepping over him to exit the room. In an off hand voice he spoke to Mary, "He should be compliant for another 4 hours. Do with him what you like, just make sure he's alive in the morning for act one."
-----------------------
Sherlock was out of his chair like a bolt, coat on in a matter of seconds and flying down the staircase.
"Where are you off too in such a hurry?" Came Mrs. Hudson’s voice from her doorway.
“Mrs. Hudson,” he turned back to her, his eyes wild, “Moriarty has John. I won’t be home until he’s with me.” She had come to his side now, and he leaned over and kissed her cheek, “Goodbye Mrs. Hudson.”
With that he was out the door and hailing a taxi, leaving the older woman standing agape with her hand clasped over her mouth. Leaning against the door jamb as though it was the only thing keeping her up.
After a flurried drive to the Holmes estate, Sherlock burst through the doors of his library to find Mycroft and Lestrade pouring over CCTV tapes. One of his lackeys that watched the tapes for him must have tipped him off about the video call, spurring the two into action. Sherlock wasn’t surprised, he hadn’t done a sweep for Mycroft’s spying gear since he’d come home and he was sure there was some from when he’d been spying on John for him.
“What have you found?”
“Nothing of interest yet...” Lestrade said shaking his head. He was standing next to Mycroft, a hand on his shoulder as the man flickered his eyes over about six different screens.
“Wait... there.” He pointed to a screen. The screen showed a place not that far from Baker street, and a black car pulled up beside where John was walking. On another screen, the same area but from a different angle, he could see John conversing with the woman from the video that he assumed was Mary Moran. Soon after she got out of the car and blew something in his face.
“The Scopolamine...” Sherlock breathed. Shortly after, she leaned down and whispered something in his ear and he got into the car willingly. The car then drove away. Mycroft was able to follow the unmarked car from where they first found them to a tunnel. There weren’t any cameras in the tunnel, and the car didn’t emerge from the other side.
“Damnit!” Sherlock slammed his fist down on the table causing all the monitors to shake.
Together, Mycroft and Lestrade calmed Sherlock down just enough to get him to explain the phone call he’d received and what exactly they were dealing with.
“He thinks this is a game.” Sherlock growled, turning his attention back to his brother. “Who is he Mycroft? He’s got some sick fantasy, calling himself daddy.” Sherlock lips curled at the statement, but concern flitted across Mycroft’s features.
Turning back to the computer he keyed in a few commands before turning the screen where Sherlock could see it. “Is that him?” Mycroft’s voice was low, almost fearful.
The detective sucked in a painful gasp of air. “Who. Is. He.” He bit out, gritting his teeth together.
Mycroft pinched his brow painfully for a moment, rubbing at his face in anguish. “He called himself Martin James Roy... I’m sorry Sherlock. This man left our mother shortly after you were born, he’s our father.” Mycroft spoke slowly, choosing his words with great care.
Sherlock took a stumbling step back and sank into one of the leather office chairs. His face had gone white, and his eyes wide. His mind was reeling, muttering the names under his breath. The few files the government had on Moriarty listed his full name as James Napoleon Moriarty. “James N. Moriarty,” He breathed shaking his head. “An anagram… How disgustingly boring.”
At that he seemed to lose his composure. "Our... Father." He muttered as if in a trance as he looked back to Mycroft for more answers. "But how..."
His mind raced back to the initial feeling of familiarity he had experienced and now realized that the man calling himself Moriarty had looked enough like Mycroft to be considered kin.
"It's-why? Why would our father be doing this?" He asked, not realizing he'd spoken out loud. Curling tighter in on himself, he took refuge in his mind palace, feverishly searching his archives for anything that might help.
Mycroft moved around his desk to stand in front of Sherlock, tentatively placing one hand on the detectives shoulder to pull him back to reality.
“I’m sorry Sherlock, I thought he was dead. I looked for him for a while after I graduated, but there was nothing.” He said gently, squeezing Sherlock’s shoulder. He swallowed thickly, obviously distraught by the new information. “We will find them.”
Sherlock came back to himself slowly, and everything fell back into place. The mastermind who he’d found so entertaining was his own father. The one he’d never thought he had. Now, the world’s most powerful mastermind had John, and was dead set on one of them dying before they were back together. He wanted to watch Sherlock dance... but why? The edges of his mind felt like they were wobbling as he tried to keep calm without John to ground him.
His intellect, the only thing he’d ever been proud of was now jeopardized. Someone so heartless and cold had been a creator of the mind he utilized for good. How could he continue to believe that there was any good in himself at all with a predecessor like that? All the hard work John had done to build him up was coming crumbling down and Sherlock wasn’t sure he could stop it.
“I’ve bested Moriarty before. It’s taken him three years to get this far, of course we’ll find him.” He said, slowly unfolding his long limbs from the chair and moving to look over the CCTV tapes once more. Then almost under his breath, he continued.
“We have to.”
“I know.” Mycroft assured him, letting Sherlock take over with the CCTV tapes. There wasn’t anything else to find, but it seemed to keep the detectives mind busy to a point. After a while, Mycroft and Lestrade left Sherlock to pour over the video footage, doing research of their own.
Around four in the morning, Lestrade returned to the library to find Sherlock still at the desk with the monitors, rewinding and rewatching the moment John got into the car over and over. Sherlock looked awful, his eyes were wide, but unseeing, his face gaunt with worry. Lestrade laid a gentle hand on the detective’s shoulder and his shoulders dropped, the detective slumping to the table defeated.
“How could I let this happen?” he asked Lestrade from his pillowed arms, “I should have never let John leave... I knew it would only lead to strife, and yet I let him go...”
“Sherlock, you can’t blame yourself, it’s only going to make it harder for you to find him. If he hadn’t been kidnapped then you know Moriarty would have found him sooner or later. Now come on, let’s put that mind of yours to use and figure out where they are.”
Sherlock raised his head slightly and looked at the Detective Inspector in a new light. He nodded softly and both of them sat together going over the video again.
Around eight Lestrade yawned and excused himself. Mycroft, who had come to relieve him offered a chaste kiss before sending him away to bed. Soon after, Sherlock received a text with a video from John’s mobile. Opening the file, he held his phone between them to allow Mycroft to watch as well..
“Good morning!” Came Moriarty’s exuberant voice. “I hope you slept well, because you’re in for a long day if you didn’t” He giggled maniacally before turning the camera to show him the small ledge he was standing on. There was a black box, no, a button set into the stone of the ledge. The camera panned down to the street below, and Sherlock could tell that the older man was standing on the top of Big Ben.
“I’ve planted a little bomb somewhere beneath the house of parliament. It’s also big enough to cause a vast amount of damage to six square miles with the shockwave alone..” The camera panned back to Moriarty’s face. He was smiling devilishly, enjoying this entirely too much. “I have also placed a button up here on the clock tower. In order to keep the bomb from going off you’ll need to hold it down. You have an hour to get in position, and you must come alone. You’ll have to stay there for eight hours to keep the bomb from going off. If you disobey any of my orders.... I’m afraid it will be very unfortunate for your dear John.... Hope your little tumble from Barts didn’t make you afraid of heights.” He laughed again as the video ended.
Sherlock was on his feet and on his way out the door before Mycroft could catch up.
“You can’t just go, you’re playing right into his hand!” Mycroft said, grabbing Sherlock’s arm. The normal icy facade that Mycroft seemed to constantly hold had deteriorated. There was genuine fear and concern in his tone.
“I can and I will. He has John, I can’t let anything happen to him, I’m sure you know the feeling.” He glanced towards the doorway the Detective Inspector had exited through not twenty minutes before, ”If you’re going to try to stop me...” his eyes narrowed, “I’ll take you out too.” then with no more time to talk, Sherlock was gone.
A/N: Hope you're enjoying this twisted adventure. We love comments and feedback. Tell us whatcha think.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

A Bit Worse