Summary: "Every person has their pressure point... Someone they want to protect from harm." - Jim Moriarty
Sebastian Moran is locked away in prison, but he plots to escape and seek revenge on Mycroft Holmes. Meanwhile, Sherlock and John are dealing with a change in their relationship, trying not to fall apart. And as ties are tested and allegiances altered, events unfold in the streets of London that threaten both the Holmes brothers and everyone they care for. Disclaimer: Don't own Sherlock. Rated T because reasons... Reasons like intense themes and torture.
This is the sequel to Riddles in the Dark, which can be found on my profile, so if you haven't read that, I suggest you do :)
Pressure Points
Chapter One: Prologue
oOOOo
Burn his heart out.
It was the singular thought in the mind of Sebastian Moran, a harsh, fierce sentence which had become one of the few rational things left in him.
Burn his heart out.
He clenched his hands tightly, glaring down into the tea resting on the table before him, imagining that cold, dark factory for the hundredth time. The two chairs under the single light bulb, the blood pooling at one man's feet, the giggles of Moran's only friend.
His only, and now dead, friend.
The tea rattled in its saucer, and he gingerly let go, not wanting to spill it and give the guards yet another reason to shoot him dirty looks. He hated those people, hated being under their scrutiny. He had lived a private, rather clandestine life, and the constant surveillance here in prison was maddening.
He thought back, remembering a single gunshot in the distance. He had looked out the window of the police car that evening, somehow knowing what had occurred. That Jim Moriarty had been shot and killed. What he hadn't known until later, however, was who had killed him. Moran had assumed it was an officer, until a drug dealer on his cell block told him that he had heard it was Mycroft Holmes. Since he had learned this, thoughts of revenge had begun to fester in his mind, boiling rapidly into a solid plan. It became his obsession, then the only thing keeping him alive.
Burn his heart out.
Just wait until he got out of this place. Just wait, Holmes.
oOOOo
A pair of forks clattered quietly against plates in the kitchen of 221B Baker Street. For once, both Sherlock and John were eating dinner. But instead of their typical conversation, full of laughter and companionship, there was a steely and cold silence.
Sherlock glanced up from his plate to see John looking everywhere but back at Sherlock. Scowling slightly, the consulting detective looked back down.
John finished first, stood and took his dishes to the sink. Sherlock finished a second later, handed his things to John, then retreated into the sitting room. John glanced after him, but still they both stayed silent. Sherlock listened to the sounds of his flatmate washing up and then making tea, as he always did for them.
Except of course, as had become usual, John only made tea for himself, then headed up to his room. Sherlock ignored him, staring fixedly at his laptop screen. When the door shut upstairs, Sherlock sighed and opened up to John's blog. He clicked on the newest post, unsure why he was torturing himself again.
Forgive my rant...
Don't you hate it when someone you thought was your friend turns out to be completely different than what you thought they were? It's like they're a different person suddenly.
Or maybe I was just blind and stupid and didn't want to see it.
Doesn't matter. Anyway, don't expect me to be posting about any cases in the future. I think I'm done with that sort of thing.
5 comments
John, is everything ok? Did Sherlock do something?! I'll come and tear him apart if I have to!
Harry Watson 19 July 20:36
What's going on mate? If you want to talk I'm free
Mike Stamford 19 July 20:45
You don't have to do anything Harry. I'd prefer it actually. But thanks Mike, might take you up on that sometime.
John Watson 19 July 20:48
*comment deleted*
Harry Watson 19 July 20:51
Language, Harry. Besides, this is none of your business.
John Watson 19 July 20:53
Sherlock slammed the laptop shut and frowned. What happened wasn't his fault. This was so stupid, dull.
John could be such an idiot sometimes.
oOOOo
Moran made his way back to his cell after dinner, but before he got there, a man behind him gripped his shoulder and stopped him.
"Hey Seb," he whispered. "Heard you have a plan, about what we discussed the other day."
"What of it, Charles?" he hissed back, teeth clenched to hide the conversation. "We can't exactly do anything in here."
"No, but we might not have to. Just sit tight. Something might happen in the next few days, and I want you in. You have skills I don't."
"Charles-"
"Come on," Moran could virtually hear the smirk on Charles' face. He had gotten to know the man well over the past three months. He had been in prison longer than Moran, but somehow seemed to be completely in the loop with the criminal underworld. Moran didn't know how he did it; he couldn't get any contact with Moriarty's allies...
"Just sit tight. You won't regret it," Charles murmured, letting go of his shoulder as they reached Moran's cell and he went inside. He turned and watched Charles' conspiratorial grin, wondering what he could be plotting. A flash of excitement shot through him, for the first time since Jim had told him about his riddles scheme. Maybe whatever this new plot was would get him what he wanted: the ruin of Mycroft Holmes.
What's up with Sherlock and John? And what are Moran and the mysterious Charles planning together? The answers will arise...
Sorry I'm being melodramatic ;) Please review anyway!