What Kind of Man || Jim Moriarty

Thirty Three

Sebastian had found Jim in her room, where he always was at this time of night. For the first couple of nights they were in the Castle he had resisted and stayed away. But then, he had started to creep in. After the sun set and darkness flooded the hallways, he would take a seat by her bedside and there he would remain until the need for sleep got too strong and he retired in the room next door.

Never did he leave the estate for more than a day at a time, and even then Sebastian was ordered to stay behind and practically guard her door. He'd bought dogs, three Doberman's trained to kill an enemy by a man who had not been hard for Moriarty to find. If you knew the right people, you could get your hands on anything. At night they stood outside Katherine's door, a deadly pack willing to rip apart anyone who dared to try and pass.

Moriarty was a man obsessed by her recovery. Doctors, a dozen different doctors had visited the estate to make sure she got the best care. 'I need her at her best for the business'. That was all he'd say if Sebastian even looked at him wrong. But the Sniper knew it was more than that. The attention he paid to her, the necklace he spotted his boss holding more than a few times when he thought he was alone. He liked her. The man would never admit it. He could never have a weakness; he would never allow himself to have a real weakness. But this woman, who had shown up and been brought into his world. The only person to ever get his undivided attention, had swept over his mind and now almost everything he did was for her.

Whether it was the dogs, the estate, the healthcare. It was all for her...not the business.

He could see it so clearly as he watched Jim now, sitting with his hands on his knees, studying her form which had not moved in 6 days now. She was fine, apart from the injuries, the doctors all said it was to be expected. She was in shock and her body needed time out to recover. Her mind needed to take a time out. Once she awoke, the real journey for her would begin. But at least her sedentary state gave her broken body time to heal. One foot had three bad fractures, all of which would fully heal after twelve weeks. The burns would scar, her wrists and ankles would scar, her thighs would scar. Seb knew Jim was mortified, her once untouched skin now littered with marks. Anyone else and Jim would give up and dispose of them, but not her. He would find a way to make her appreciate each mark, just like he had learnt to do over the week which had passed. It made her different, and god was she different.

"Either come in or go away." Moriarty grew tired of the looming presence, but he didn't move.

"Anything?"

"No." Shaking his head, Jim took a deep breath in, rubbed his eyes and leant back in the chair. Every second that passed he either would think he saw her move or he'd think she had stopped breathing. How long could she rest for? "Is he taken care of?" He'd given the order for Samson's death the previous evening. Jim didn't care how, he didn't care who by, he just wanted him dead.

"Yes. Everything's done."

"Good." Moriarty had yet to remove his eyes from her form. He had barely even blinked as he focused on her stomach again with bloodshot eyes. Biting his lip, Sebastian hesitated as he went to ask his next question. It was too risky, but...he knew Jim.

"What is it about her?" The words broke the silence but built up an atmosphere in the room that was so thick it almost choked him. They were close, but maybe not that close. But then he had been sent on a very personal mission earlier that day, he deserved the right to ask.

"What do you mean Sebastian?"

"That makes you like her?" It was obvious, and if Jim denied it then he was lying to himself. "Has it been there from the beginning or is it since you dolled her up?"

"Know your place." Moriarty snarled, his lips curling up in the right corner. "I don't like her." So he had gone down the road of lying to himself, fine, Sebastian would make it his job to prove him wrong.