Chapter 6: Darkest Before Day

Three very long, very slow years went by for Sebastian Moran. The sniper was working moment to moment to survive, not thinking into the future, his main reason for living gone. Three days after the fall, he destroyed all the pillows on their...his bed only to think about the last time they'd slept together...Jim swallowing him down before fingering him back into hardness, the criminal taking his sweet time before driving him to orgasm, Seb's hear arched into the pillows...NO! Stop, don't think about it. A few days later, he smashed every single glass in the kitchen, slicing his hand open for his trouble. For the next month, he'd break something different and then cry over it, barely eating and almost never sleeping, his closed eyes haunted by Jim's lifeless form on the rooftop of the hospital. Any time Sebastian left the flat, someone wound up dead, usually a homeless person or an unfortunate cabbie. He wouldn't return to the flat until he was grungy and battered a few days later, drunk off his head. For three years he lived like this, taking the occasional job when he was having a good week, spending his nights and weekends in bars or alleyways, a sewer rat once more...albeit, a sewer rat with a very posh flat to return to if he wished.

oOoOo

It was the third anniversary of the Fall, and Seb was standing at the window of their room; no matter how hard he tried, the sniper still thought of it as their room. He was toying with a picture in his hands, the only one he had of the two of them that even Jim hadn't known about as he looked out on the city, hating it more than anything. After making love/shagging/banging/ whatever it was they used to do, Jim had fallen asleep and Seb had snapped a picture with his iPhone of the two of them, saving it for when he needed a laugh or a smile or when he missed Jim most. He'd printed it after the fall, still telling it good night before he slept. The Jim in the photo looked peaceful but dangerous, like he could wake at any second and claw new scars into Seb's torso, but at the same time, he was like a little house cat that the sniper could pet and hold and cuddle...nostoptoopainfulgoawaygoAWAY!

With a sob, Seb turned from the window, retrieving his handgun from the drawer of his side table. He looked at the photo and then back to the weapon, flicking the safety off.

"You sonofabitch," he whispered, tears falling again. "Three years and it still hurts, still bloody hurts, and I couldn't-" he choked on a sob, forcing the words out because even if Jin couldn't hear him, the sleeping Jim in the picture could. He could still say goodbye, "I c-couldn't save you and that's the worst-the worst part of it. That's why you were so i-intense that last night, you fucking knew...YOUFUCKINGKNEW and you couldn't tell me." Sebastian's framed shook with sobs, fresh tears he didn't even know he had any longer dropping from his eyes onto the dirty, dusty floor. "I miss you so fucking much. I just-I wish I could have said a proper goodbye." He kissed the photo before dropping it to the bed. "That'll have to do," he whispered, closing his eyes.

oOoOo

It had been three years, three long years of sleeping on trains or in shitty hotel rooms in towns with no names, three years of crawling the underbelly of Europe and Asia, making connections, breaking old alliances, or killing folk who crossed him or just because they annoyed him. Three years, and now he could come back. He made the familiar journey back to his flat...to their flat, finding the door unlocked...unlike Seb. The smaller man swallowed hard and rested his forehead against the cool wood of the door before pushing it open. The flat looked a wreck: dust covered every surface, broken glass was in the kitchen, the sofa had been ripped apart with what appeared to be a very large knife...and the door to the bedroom was open. He walked through and down the hall, not bothering to muffle his footsteps, his heart in his throat when he saw his Tiger, his Seb, his heart and soul, his other half, standing with a gun to his temple. "Sorry for making you wait, Tiger-Love, but you know me," he managed to say, straightening his black as sin Westwood suit. "I'm just sooooooooooo changeable."

Seb stiffened, his hand tightening on the butt of the gun; he didn't dare open his eyes. The sniper just shook his head. "Here to see me off, then, to bring me over with you...you're dead...I'm hallucinating...again..."

Jim panicked slightly. He strode over, seizing the gun and wresting it from Seb's grip. "SEBASTIAN MORAN," he roared. "I am not dead. You are not hallucinating. Tiger-Love," he said, his voice soft now, soft and dangerous and desperate, "I'm back. I've come back to you."

Seb didn't let go, didn't want to let go. "No-let this end-stop it now!" He still wouldn't open his eyes, and Jim Moriarty lost what little of his temper he still possessed. "Open your eyes and look. at. me. Look at me or I will ssssssssssssssskin you." he hissed, angry and frightened.

Very slowly, Seb pried his eyes open, looking down. He paled, the room starting to close in around him while the world spun faster. Dark, chocolate eyes met his, a pale, very drawn face brushed with stubble, pink lips that were...quivering? Jim let out a breath as those blue eyes, now worn and tired and brimming with pain and tears, looked down at him. "Good boy. I see you still know how to obey," he said, his lips quivering. He couldn't help it...a tear fell down his face.

Seb gasped as his legs gave out, dropping him unceremoniously to the floor, his body shaking and convulsing with sobs. "No-it can't be-you aren't-this isn't-"

Jim dropped to his knees with Seb. "I am. I'm alive. I'm alive." he said, voice soft and fierce, taking Seb's free hand and placing it to his chest, where his heart hammered in fear and joy. He hadn't spent the last three years away from Seb to lose him now. Seb's breathing hitched as he trembled; 'Jim's' hand was firm around his wrist, the pulse strong. This wasn't alcohol or drug induced; he'd been sober two weeks in preparation for his suicide. But the tears soon passed and anger coursed through his system. He looked up at Jim, pure, unbridled hatred and fury in his gaze as if he could burn the man in front of him.

The hatred and anger in his lover's eyes stung more than he'd expected. "I know you hate me. You must loathe me, must never want to see me again. I couldn't tell you, Seb, about the Fall. I had to 'die' for it to work, for it to happen. I've spent the last three years wandering Europe and Asia, strengthening our empire, and wanting nothing more than to come back to you. I swear it, Tiger-Love...I swear it," he said.

Seb punched him in the gut then in the face, right in the jaw. "Do you have any fucking idea what you DID TO ME?" he roared, leaping to his feet and diving for the gun. Jim let the blows fall, not even trying to block them, but he took the advantage of his lightness and speed to take the gun before Seb got it. He cocked the hammer back and stood, aiming it right at Seb's heart. "Oh, I have an idea. I'm not going to apologize, because you won't listen," he said, angry at his lover, angry at himself. Seb froze, tilting his head as if contemplating something. "Go ahead," he challenged walking up until the gun pressed into his chest. "It's what I want anyway. You'd be doing me a favor, you creep." He still wasn't even sure it was Jim.

Jim raised the gun and fired it over their heads, the shot burying itself into the ceiling. He took the muzzle of the gun and pressed it into Seb's chest, hearing the fabric of his shirt and then his flesh sizzle as they came in contact with the hot metal. "You are only dying when I order you to," he growled, digging the metal deeper, baring his teeth. Seb grimaced, the burn just a dull ache compared to what he'd felt every day of his life since the incident. "Mark me then. Just another scar to add to my collection. I've had a hell of a time sewing up the wounds he left on me; one more won't make a difference. Though I must say, you're disguise is pretty fucking accurate. How long did you work on it? A year? Two?"

Jim nearly screamed in frustration. Then his eyes lit on something. The canopy over the bed...Seb hadn't taken it down. "I see you kept the canopy...the sheets where we fucked after we tortured the traitor, Danvers, to death. You held open his jaw as I cut his tongue out, wound garrote wire around his fingers. I pulled on them to keep him conscious, nearly severed them. You watched me rip his fingernails out, break his legs and vivisect him. I pulled his heart out of his chest and made him eat it. And you said you wanted that to be a warning to you. We came back home, you had a gun pressed to the driver's head to make him go faster. We showered, after we fucked...I licked the bloody handprint collar off your neck," he said, praying that the memory would prove his identity.

Something flickered in Seb's eyes as he looked up at the canopy, the memories fresh and clear. No one knew about that except him and...and...

"Put the gun down," he asked softly, his mind finally catching up.

"Is that an order?" Jim asked, voice soft and dangerous. If Seb was back in his right mind, then he would know...

"No sir. Please, please put it down. I wouldn't think of forgetting my place."

Jim dropped the gun and kicked it out of either of their reaches. He swallowed hard, looking at Seb's face, the shadowed bruises under his eyes, the stubble on his cheeks, the gauntness of him. "My Assassin, my Tiger, my Sebby," he said softly, stopping himself from reaching out.

"Magpie," Seb whispered, his fingers twitching at his side as his eyes took in Jim, really took him in. He looked like absolute hell despite the suit. Moving like he was in a trance, Jim walked closer to Seb and tentatively reached a hand up and cupped his face, the motion almost uncharacteristically gentle. Seb's breath caught in his throat, his hand coming up to touch Jim's. The criminal's hands were still soft under Seb's rough and calloused fingers. He nuzzled the fingers, pressing a kiss to the palm. "You smell the same."

Jim let out a shuddering breath and crushed the taller man to him, feeling just how thin he had gotten, but he was alive; they both were. "So do you," he said as he buried his face into the assassin's chest. Seb wrapped his arms around Jim, pulling him closer as he felt the warmth of the man, dispelling the cold. He could feel and heat his heartbeat, no longer a lifeless wrist. He tilted Jim's face to look up at him, no longer dull and lifeless eyes. The images that haunted his mind were slowly replaced with new ones of this man, this Jim right here in front of him. "Oh God," the sniper whispered.

Jim had to smirk. "No, just me," he said, the old egomania flaring back for an instant. A strangled sort of chuckle came out of Seb's mouth; he hadn't laughed in three years.

Jim's self control snapped. He grabbed Seb and pulled his head down to meet him, re-claiming his mouth with a hot kiss, no teeth, just tongue and lips moving over the assassin's. Seb's eyes rolled back as their lips met, the final haunting memory of the dead kiss blowing away and leaving only this. Seb's fingers ran through Jim's hair as he kissed him back, fire burning through his entire body.

The kiss went on and on and on, Jim breaking it to breathe. "I've been wanting to do that for three years," he gasped, hands still fisted in Seb's hair. Seb pressed their foreheads together, still breathing in Jim. "Me too," he whispered, feeling more alive than he had since their final conversation. Jim just closed his eyes and listened to Seb's breathing, feeling his heat and taking in his scent. "God...it's good to be home," he said.

"Sorry it's such a fucking dump."

"Not much worse than some of the places I've stayed. The company is infinitely better."

Seb chuckled brokenly. "If I'm better company, you've really stayed in some shitholes."

"Duh," Jim said.

Seb cracked a slight smile. "You broke me," he whispered. "I thought I was dead for a long time but I wasn't."

"Of course you weren't. You don't die until I order you to. Remember?" Jim said, holding his lover tighter. He didn't want to think of what he would have done if he had shown up and Seb had killed himself.

"Right. In control until the very fucking end. How typical. You may be getting predictable, Boss."

Jim scowled then bit Seb hard, his teeth digging into the flesh. Not enough to break the skin, but enough to hurt. "Damn predictability. I do what I want."

Seb growled. "Well then, what do you want, you psycho?"

Jim's hand lashed out and cracked Seb hard across the face, open-palmed. "I want what I've wanted for the past three years. To fuck you bloody into the mattress. But I've come home to find that my dear pet has forgotten his obedience training," he hissed, backing the taller man up until the backs of his legs hit the mattress and he sat down with a thud. "Strip," Jim ordered.

Seb temporarily lost his ability to speak, moving automatically until his shirt was halfway off before stopping. "And what if I refuse?"

"Oh, Sebby, must we go through that again?" Jim asked, moving his head in that reptilian fashion, eyes cold.

"Yeah, maybe. Forgive me, sir but my memories have dimmed without constant reinforcement."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to refresh them, now won't we?" Jim said. There was a pause, then Jim shot out his other hand and delivered a strong blow to Seb's other cheek, knocking him back. Jim roughly stripped the assassin and tied his wrists and ankles to the bed posts with the ties that were still in the drawers where he had left them. Ah, sentiment. "Remember this dance, Tiger?" Jim purred when he was done, surveying his handiwork. Everything slammed back into Seb, especially the torture of that afternoon. 'I'm sorry," he gasped, "Oh god, I'm sorry. Yes, of course I remember, Boss." StupidstupidSTUPID

"Oh, so now he apologizes. Too little, too late, I'm afraid. You just have to re-learn your lesson," Jim said, trailing a cool hand down Seb's chest, down his abdomen, down to his rapidly-hardening cock, moving his hand around it and giving it a squeeze and a stroke. Seb whimpered and groaned, the touch so desired and welcome and he could tell Jim knew it. "I know it's too late," he gasped as Jim stroked him into full hardness; he couldn't even remember the last time he'd gotten off. "I'm a fucking ah! moron and I'm sorry. Really."

"Apology accepted. But you really are a moron if you think I'm going to let you off that easy," Jim said, relishing the noises and cries that Seb was making, relishing in the feel of the flesh under his hand. He could feel himself hardening as well, growing as stiff as iron inside his trousers. Oh fucking hell. Seb continued to whimper and curse. "I don't think-I've gotten off-on over a year-at least," he whined, twisting against the ties.

"Over a year? Oooh, come now...all work and no play makes Seb a dull boy," Jim said. He got up from the bed and smiled as he walked over to the door. "Well, I'm afraid I'm a bit bored...I should see if you've totally destroyed the rest of the place," he said, opening the door and hearing it click shut. Any second now, the swearing would start...sweet balm to his ears. Seb keened in the back of his throat when Jim's hand left him and then the man was leaving, shutting the door. Panic and fear and terror threatened to overwhelm him, thoughts of Jim leaving him snaking through his mind. He was caught between screaming and crying but settled for cursing when he realized just how hard he was. "YOUFUCKINGARSEHOLEIFYOUDON''MGOINGTOKILLYOUMYSELF!"

Jim laughed, laughed out loud for the first time in three years. He waited for two minutes before walking in, smiling that damned smile of his. "Oooh, I trod on the Tiger's tail, did I?" he cooed, still snickering. Seb glared at him through the tears. "Yeah, a Tiger with abandonment issues, you prick."

Jim felt guilt roll over him like a wave. "Oh, fuck. I'm sorry, Sebby," he said. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Seb's mouth, a light one, an apology. The kiss was wet and salty but sincere. "Accepted," the sniper mumbled, his brain still trying to process the little detail that Jim Moriarty had just apologized, to him of all people.

Jim breathed a sigh. "Good," he said. His hand trailed back down, finding Seb's cock once more, giving it a few light tugs before moving away and stripping, baring himself to Seb's eyes. He was nearly skeletally thin with scars now gracing his sides and back, but it was still the same Moriarty. Seb gasped to see Jim frame. "Jesus fucking Christ," he whispered as a skeleton stared back at him.

"I know...not much to look at now, aren't I," he said sadly, looking at his bony ribs that jutted out from his chest, his knobby hip bones and knees, the bumps of his spine clearly visible.

"You look like a museum exhibit, one of the Egyptian Pharaohs after he's been dead for thousands of years...I dunno if you could even take me anymore, you're so thin-"

Jim scowled. "Shut your trap, Moran. Even if there's less of me, I can still fuck you into the ground," he snarled. He found the lube (same place where it always was, bedside table drawer) and slicked up his cock and his fingers. He pressed two fingers into Seb, curling them, scissoring them, moving them in and out of the tight ring of muscle. Seb bit his lip, trying to swallow his moans and failing miserably. "I meant-you couldn't-take my cock-in you-too thin-"

Jim snorted. "Like I'd let you top," he said.

"You have before."

"Yes, but now? You're re-learning your place."

"Of course-obedience."

"Of course," said Jim, removing his fingers and replacing them with his cock. He groaned as he sunk into Seb's tight heat, clenching his teeth and nearly biting through his lower lip to prevent himself from coming already. It had been so long since he'd last had a shag. Seb screamed, feeling like he was shredding his voice as Jim filled him. He was too close. "Gonna-"

"Ah ah ah, no you're not," Jim said, panting, circling his fingers around the base of Seb's cock and squeezing, staving off his release. Seb whined; he needed so badly to come that it wasn't even funny. "I-I need-"

Jim kept his fingers in place as he thrust once, twice, three times, the third time driving deep enough to hit Seb's prostate. He had to clench around his own base to prevent himself from coming as well as Seb cried and struggled. Seb was barely able to breathe as it was, his screams ripped from him as Jim hit his sweet spot. He was sobbing with relief and pain and ecstasy. "Fuck me, sir. Show me-who's the Boss. Please."

"Careful what you wish for because in this case, you're going to get it." Jim snarled, snapping his hips into Seb hard, pounding into him over and over again. The sniper arched as best he could against the bindings as Jim pounded into him mercilessly. He was loud and vulgar, curses pouring off of his tongue like water.

"Oooh, such a nasty mouth," Jim panted. But he'd had enough. Bending down, he pressed his mouth to Seb's in a fiery kiss and removed his hands from the base of both of their members. He rode Seb hard, hitting his prostate over and over then spending himself inside of him, his cries of ecstasy swallowed up in Seb's mouth. Seb accepted the kiss, his body breaking out in a sheen of cold sweat as Jim drove him to and over the edge, coming in a haze of light and sound, his cries of love pouring into Jim's mouth and down into his body as Seb came harder than he ever had in his life. Jim collapsed on top of his lover, taking in gulps of musty air before withdrawing himself to undo the bonds on his ankles and wrists. He rubbed the life back into the flesh before he fell next to Seb on the bed, still panting.

Covered in their release on a slightly dusty bed, Seb rubbed his raw, red wrists, marked as if with cuffs, reminders of who owned him. "The perfect brand," he whispered, his throat aching. Jim laughed. "The perfect brand," he agreed, repeating Seb. He huddled closer to his lover, now reunited at last after so long apart. He could see Seb's eyes starting to droop.

"I don't want to sleep," Seb whispered, shivering as the sweat dried on his skin. "This'll all be a dream. I'll wake and you'll still be dead."

"No, it won't. I swear it. I'll be right here when you wake up," Jim said, drawing the covers up over them both. Seb nuzzled against Jim's neck, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin before pulling back to look at the man. "Look me in the eye and swear," he rasped. Jim did, locking his deep brown eyes with Sebastian's piercing blue ones. "I swear it. Upon my soul, I so swear," he said solemnly.

Seb's eyes burned and he looked away, ashamed for Jim to see him cry though he'd done little else for three years. Jim saw the tears, reached out and stroked Seb's face, wiping them away. "Shhh, Seb...let it out," he crooned. The sniper's dam broke and the sobs and tears poured from him, soaking his pillow (he'd gotten the ones off his own bed after destroying theirs). Jim held him as his lover's body shook with sobs, rubbing Seb's back until the wild weeping became sniffles, and finally the larger man's breathing eased into sleep. Exhausted himself, Jim was lost to sleep as well, still encircling his lover.

oOoOo

Seb was never sure afterwards how long he slept, but when he woke, his lips were against Jim's neck, the flesh damp underneath them. It took him a very long minute to remember what had happened, but then he felt and heard Jim stir, and he knew he hadn't dreamt it; never in any of his dreams or hallucinations had he managed to wake up with the criminal next to him. Jim woke as he felt Sebastian stir, slowly opening his eyes and smiling lazily at the sniper. "Hullo, Tiger-Love," he said, voice still rough with sleep.

"Morning, Magpie," Seb rasped, his voice still gruff and sore. He brushed the hair back from Jim's face, noticing he'd let it grow out a bit, something that had slipped his noticed the night before. "You're here."

"I swore upon my soul, did I not?" he said, leaning into the touch. Seb let his fingers trail through the dark hair, slightly damp with sleep. He rubbed the man's scalp, lips twitching to hear Jim purr. "I promised you something, once," he murmured.

"You promised to protect me 'til you couldn't breathe anymore," Jim said, musing over the memory. Seb bit his lip. "Well, yeah, there was that. Need to make good on that one now that I can. I meant the one where I promised to watch the world burn with you."

Jim grinned, his eyes lighting up. "Ooooh, yes, I remember that. I'll bring the chocolate and graham crackers if you bring the marshmallows," he recalled with a laugh. Then he grew serious. "Yes, Sebastian...by all means, let us watch the world burn," he said.

"We'll sit on the roof and make s'mores, s'mores and conflagration, I think you said." Seb's eyes teared again. "Kiss me, genius. Kiss me as the world goes up in flames."

And Jim smiled softly and did just that.

And there you have it! Thank you so much for reading our humble little story to the end. I am happy to announce that this is not the end of Seb and Jim's adventures. We are currently working on a prequel/Lost Chapters story with this plot, delving into back story of their relationship and fleshing out the sections you have asked for (most notably the Pool scene and Jim's captivity with Mycroft). Share this with your friends, and take a look at the other writings I have up. MorMor stories: Following Orders and Tiger. Until next time!