Clean

Chapter II: Pituitary

A/N: Woo! Chapter II! Thanks to everyone to all the support, I really love all you people ^^

Dedicated to Anna_Thordaughter because she likes the Avengers and she messaged me and her stories are really good ^^ So thanks, Anna :)

Hope you enjoy this! Sorry if it's a bit short :/

(P.S. I'm eating Oreos :3 YUM)

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Waking up from his rest, Sebastian sat up and looked around through bleary eyes, gaze resting on the apple sitting on the bedside table. He blew air through his mouth, fists coming up to rub at his eyes.

"Good morning," came a soft voice from the door. James Moriarty was leaning against it, legs and arms crossed, head inclined slightly. His large, dark eyes gleamed mischievously, making Sebastian feel uneasy.

"Have you made your decision yet?" the criminal asked, a grin slowly appearing on his face, manipulative and intimidating. He approached the bedside table, reaching for the apple. Sebastian snatched it away from his fingers, making it clear what the answer to that question was.

James tutted, grin turning to displeased frown. "Sebastian, you're going to have to learn to be faster about making decisions. Now, check your answer. I have to get a gun for you and this delay is messing up my schedule."

"How do I know I can trust you?" he questioned, crossing his arms and looking at the apple.

There was that grin again. "You don't," he answered simply, then leaned down so his lips were grazing Sebastian's ear. "That's the fun in it."

His whisper sent slight shivers down the sniper's back. James noticed this and put his head on Sebastian's shoulder, chuckling.

"Geroff," Sebastian muttered, shrugging his shoulder and scooting over a little.

Moriarty was still grinned at him as he picked up the pocket knife and held it out. Sebastian bitterly snatched it from him, digging it into the apple. He handed the fruit back to the criminal, the knife sticking out of it.

James turned it to see the answer, then giggled in delight. Tossing the apple in the bin and sticking the pocket knife back in his pocket after wiping it with a handkerchief, he walked to the door. "I'm off, Sebastian. Hope you feel better soon!" And with that, he was gone.

Sebastian stared at the wall opposite him. "What have I gotten myself into?" he groaned, rubbing his face with his hands.

>> <<

After a month in the ward, Sebastian was finally well enough to get out of bed. It was hard to walk after lying down for so long.

The withdrawal symptoms were getting worse now that he was walking. Nausea, headaches, aching in his legs, and a constant hunger that gnawed at the edge of his mind.

A few days after being let out of the ward, James returned. The day after he accepted Moriarty's offer, he learned that the criminal had gone to Germany for a job.

Sebastian was walking slowly down a hallway when his boss popped out from nowhere. He had a giddy look on his face, obviously exhilarated. The smile faltered slightly at the sight of his employee. "Sebastian... God, you were in trouble when I picked you off the street. Drugs? Were you really that stupid?" He laughed a little, exasperated.

"How do you--"

"I know symptoms when I see them. What is it? Heroin?"

Sebastian sputtered, scratching his arm.

James shook his head. "You're going to go through hell, Sebastian. I didn't think you were THAT idiotic."

"Shut up," Sebastian spat, eyes narrowed in anger. "I don't need you to tell me what mistakes I've made."

James raised his eyebrows, smirking. "Watch you tone, Moran. I'm your boss now, don't forget that."

The gunman just glared down at his superior, who was still giving him that stupid smirk.

"Now, where have you been staying? In the hospital room still?" James asked, head tilted slightly to the side. Sebastian nodded curtly. "Ah, well I need to show you your room. Follow me."

Bitterly, Sebastian followed after his boss. They went through several hallways, all lined with paintings or potted plants. Finally they stopped in front of a door at the end of a hallway.

"Go on," James said, waving his hands at Sebastian. "Your stuff's already in there, don't ask how, I don't like too many questions and I know you have MOUNTAINS of them. I have a headache; don't get me in an even worse mood," he rattled off, finished with a tight smile.

"No, I don't have any questions," Sebastian said defensively, slightly annoyed. "What you do doesn't really matter to me. I just want to know what I need to do."

The shorter man raised his eyebrows. "Mmm, I rather like you," he said softly, smirk growing wider. "Well, I don't have anything for you to do currently and my other snipers are away, so just... I don't know, wander. DOn't bother me when I'm busy, which is almost always. The kitchen's always open but don't spoil your dinner. The shooting range is a few doors down from the kitchen. My office is just down the hall from here, and my room is the one next to that. Now, I have some business to attend to." He promptly turned and marched off.

Sebastian made his was across the mansion to the kitchen, grabbing an apple. James must've like them a lot, as there was an overabundance of the red fruit.

He then went to the shooting range, stomach doing a few flips when he saw the many guns on the walls. Grabbing a carbine, he shot a few targets. None of them hit the bulls-eye. He cursed his shaking hands, frustrated. Stupid withdrawal.

The door opened behind him, and Sebastian turned his head, brows furrowed. James was there, leaning against the door frame. "Hello, Sebastian," he singsonged, wiggling his fingers at the snipers.

"I thought you were busy."

The criminal sauntered further into the room, hands in his pockets. "Things went better than expected," he said, a malicious grin on his face.

"Why are you talking to me? Here to suggest rehab or something?" Sebastian spat, looking back at the targets.

"You interest me, Sebastian." He walked to stand next to his employee. His head was inclined slightly, dark eyes glinting up at the gunman.

Sebastian scoffed. "Right."

James reached out and grabbed Sebastian's chin, tugging him down so they were face-to-face. His face was tight with anger. "Listen here, Moran," James said softly, eyes boring into Sebastian's. "If you expect to stay here, you'd better learn to show some respect. Drop the attitude."

Sebastian tried to pull away, (his neck was starting to hurt from the awkward position) but James had a grip like iron.

"I picked you off the street. I could've left you to die. I expect some appreciation." He let go of Sebastian's chin. The sniper stumbled a little, a bitter look on his face. He picked up the carbine again and shot at the target, missing.

James's face softened. "I understand you're frustrated and tired without your... addiction. I'm sorry, but I have no tolerance for drugs and I'm not getting tied up with drug dealers. You'll have to try and stick it out. It'll be tough, but hey, you were in the army." He smirked.

Sebastian bit back a smart comment and looked down, exhaling. "I don't know if I can work until I'm over this," he said, chewing on his lip.

"You better be able to," James threatened, all sympathy erased from his voice and expression. He walked towards the doors, taking an apple out of his pocket. "Toodle-oo..."

Sebastian watched the door close, gritting his teeth and sighing.

This was going to be tedious.