Moriarty's Babies

9

Lestrade felt numb. He had given up hope of ever finding the babies, and had lost interest in hobbies that he enjoyed.

John and mycroft tried to cheer him up, though mycroft wasn't quite sure how to navigate anyone's feelings, not even his own.

"What's the point in trying? They're probably hidden away somewhere, and even if we did find them, they've probably been brainwashed by that wretched man. Would they even know who we are?" Lestrade asked, face buried in his pillow.

"Come on, Greg, we've got to try. Molly and Sherlock are the most vulnerable people I've met in a long time, it's not safe for them there. You know how much of a wreck Molly was after she escaped the first time round." John pitched in, patting his friend's shoulder to encourage him to sit up.

Mycroft stroked his chin in thought. He had been sitting on a new plan for the past few hours, but it would be rather risky. He didn't know how the others would react.

"If I may, I believe I have a solution." He began, grabbing John and Lestrade's attention. He sat them down and explained, watching the grim looks form on their tired faces.

Finally, John spoke.

"It's gonna be hard to pull off, but what else can we do?" He and mycroft turned to face lestrade, waiting for his answer.

"Let's do it."

}^<€?{£+{>?~£{+

Moriarty had been busy all morning, setting up something rather special. It wasn't much, but the babies were sure to like it. He walked off to fetch Sherlock, and had Irene fetch Molly.

The two little ones were carried into the living room, eyes still droopy from their morning nap, but they didn't fuss.

"Are you two ready for the surprise?" Moriarty cooed, looking between the two. He didn't wait another moment as he ripped the sheet off. 

It was a small wooden teeter totter, with a baby seat attached firmly to each end, safety straps in place.

Moriarty bucked Sherlock into the larger seat, and Irene buckled Molly into the smaller one. They were much like their rockers, supporting them at the same incline.

Molly's end had an extra weight so that they were evenly matched, and Molly wouldn't just hover in the air.

"What do you think?" Irene cooed, smiling.

Neither Molly nor Sherlock spoke, though Sherlock did let out a coo of approval from behind his dummy. Molly whimpered softly, turning her head into Irene's shoulder.

Irene simply patted the girl's bum soothingly and kissed her forehead, mumbling to her.

"It's fun, love. Why don't you just try it out?" Irene asked, laying Molly down in the small seat. She sipped to the ground slowly, and Moriarty chuckled as he buckled Sherlock into the other side.

The babies teetered at a gentle pace, up and down and up and down. Irene and Moriarty smiled.

"This is great, Jim. Now they won't have to sit still all day, I'm sure they like the change of pace." Irene said.

"Thank you. Now, I think our little ones could use a bottle. I'll go prepare them." Moriarty replied, heading to the kitchen.

A few hours later, Moriarty was working around the kitchen, putting away pots and pans. He was about to head upstairs to check on the babies when he heard the doorbell ring, rather frantically, and a hushed voice. 

He strode to the front door, peering through the peephole before smiling to himself.

There on the porch stood John, looking distressed and bruised. Moriarty pulled the door open, assessing the man better.

"I um, I don't know h-how to say this... I need your help." John stuttered, clearing his throat. He glanced around, eyes nervous. "I want to join you, is what I mean. Can I-" John clarified.

Moriarty smirked and waved him inside, stalking back to the living room with the doctor.

"You've come right to the center of the spider's web. Why?" Moriarty asked, amused.

"I've been through a lot, seen a lot of death. I was bound to crack eventually. If you let me help you, you will never have to deal with outsiders again, and can live with your f-" John's voice caught in his throat, but he carried on. "Your family, in peace." 

Moriarty studied the man. He was still abundantly nervous, and looked ready to cry. He felt bad for him, but just a small bit.

"You're right, I would love help around here." Moriarty answered.

John's face brightened, and Moriarty chuckled.

"It won't be easy, you know. Two babies are a lot of responsibility." Moriarty continued. He looked down at his folded hands, glancing back up at John.

"I'll manage just fine. I used to take care of Sherlock all the time." 

Moriarty stood and walked slowly over to John's side, making the doctor nervous once more.

"I know you did, Johnny boy. it's great that you've chosen now to drop by, because it's just about nap time." Moriarty said smoothly.

John felt a sudden sting in his shoulder, looking down to see he'd been stuck with a syringe. He tried to stand, but Moriarty pushed him back down. John tried to slap his hand away, and Moriarty tutted.

"What.. doing... to me?" John whimpered, too hurt and scared to speak properly. He was feeling very woozy, and his limbs were all heavy.

"Shh, it's alright. You go right to sleep, John." Moriarty soothed, hauling John to his feet, dragging the man downstairs as he drifted off. "You won't be in my way much longer." Moriarty added softly, moving carefully down to the basement.

John opened his eyes after what felt like forever. He blinked a few times to try and adjust his vision, but it was so dark.

"Hello?!" He called. "Moriarty?"

Footsteps grew closer, and shortly after calling, Moriarty had entered the room. He walked over to John, hands in his pockets.

"Don't yell, John, you'll wake the babies." He scolded lightly, a big smirk on his face. John looked up at him and frowned.

"I want to see Sherlock." He said in a croaky voice. Moriarty merely shook his head.

"I can't let you do that." Moriarty said. He reached out a hand to John's cheek, cupping it. "I know what you're up to. You came here to 'rescue' my babies. Sorry to say that you wasted your time."

John leaned away from the touch, uncomfortable.

"Now, you can stay right here. Call your friends off, for their own safety." Moriarty continued, looking John in the eye, raising a knowing brow. "I'll let you go when you promise not to disturb us again."

With that, Moriarty sauntered off, leaving John to his own devices.

John kicked the ground beneath his feet. During his talk with Moriarty, it had been made quite clear to him that he was tied to a chair, given how Moriarty loomed over him.

While he wanted to curse very badly, John could do little more than  weep. He was so exhausted from all of this work, and he was ready to give up hope.