MorMor One Shots | Sherlock BBC

Jim

This chapter is based on a prompt by DoctorAngelMoriarty. Sorry again that it took me THIS long, I hope you can forgive me and like this ❤️

"Calm down?  Who are you, my fucking therapist?!" Jim backhands him, hard. At least he didn't go for the nose this time.

Sebastian spits blood on the floor, straightens and glowers at Jim.

It only takes seconds until the shorter man is on him again, clawing at the bit of skin that's laying bare and thumping his fists against Sebastian's chest.

The sniper stays silent, doesn't fight back. It's what he always does. He let Jim smash his face in in Moscow and break his arm in Den Haag. It's the least he can do when Jim is trying to escape his own mind. It's the least he can do to try and help.

Jim makes a desperate noise, something between a scream and a whimper. His fists don't have more of an impact than a child's would have and his finger dig into Sebastian's t-shirt for support.

Careful now. Jim knows where Sebastian keeps every part of his armoury hidden. And it wouldn't be the first time that he attacks him with a kitchen knife either.

The next hit comes swung towards the side of his face, the fist moving so slowly that Sebastian can follow the curve of it with his eyes, as if he's watching a butterfly. He catches Jim's fist in his hand, takes two steps forward and backs him against the wardrobe. Trapping him between his arms.

"Jim..."

Jim screams.

He fights with less strategy and strength than insanity now, raking his short nails  over Sebastian's left cheek and trying to pop his shoulder out of his socket by sheer force. Sebastian taught him that.

His breathing is rapid, his eyes red.

"Jim."

Jim starts yelling insults at Sebastian, death threats. When Sebastian pins his wrists against the polished wood he tries to headbutt him in the face.

"Fight back! Fight back, you coward!"

"Jim. I'm not gonna fight with you." I don't want to hurt you.

Jim makes a frustrated noise, like a caged animal, half scream and half sob. His body goes limp under Sebastian's grip and when the sniper reaches out for his cheek Jim drops his now free wrist and jerks away from the touch. Like he's expecting Sebastian to hit him.

"Jim..."

There are a few angry red lines on his jaw, markings of Jim's own nails, he probably managed to hurt himself without noticing it. One time there was a clean cut on his arm and he couldn't explain how he had gotten it.

Sebastian strokes the fiery scratches gently and the touch makes Jim tremble. Then the sniper leans in and kisses the spot.

He can hear Jim let out a shaky breath, feels him tense and relax in turns.

Jim hasn't eaten in days.

Jim hasn't slept for nights.

"...Jim." It's almost a whisper now.

Jim trembles, presses himself against the wood of the wardrobe like he's trying to disappear through it. His eyes are huge, lost and confused.

There's a dull pain in Sebastian's chest when he sees him like that, close to his heart. He traces Jim's collarbone carefully, standing out against pale skin, stretched over it like it's going to rip. His lips are almost blue, his eyes look bruised with the dark shadows underneath them.