MorMor One Shots | Sherlock BBC

This Town

Heartbreaking stuff ahead! Thanks so much to Imightbeaddicted for the prompt! The request was a one shot based on the song 'This Town' by Niall Horan, so for the ultimate feels listen to it while reading! As always, feedback and new prompts are highly appreciated! Cheers ♥

The  link to the song:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ic1l36GrNOU

***

And I want to tell you everything
The words I never got to say the first time around
And I remember everything

It's 3 am when you sit up straight in bed because somebody else is in the room. Your hand already goes to the gun you have hidden under your pillow before you recognise the sharp smell of aftershave that fills the room.

"Relax, it's just me. Go back to sleep."

The fact that he simply assumes you have been sleeping before he entered the room, before you saw him for the first time in three days, the sheer arrogance of it takes your breath away for a moment. He knows you don't sleep well on your own anymore. That knowledge didn't stop him from spending not a single night at home for the last six days. You only saw him when he came in to shower, to get changed or to lock himself in his study.

Waking up to kiss you and nobody's there
The smell of your perfume still stuck in the air
It's hard

"Where were you?" you ask and you can't help the fact that your voice sounds  accusatory. The aftershave Jim is wearing isn't his usual one and the scent is mixed with something sweeter; women's perfume. The clothes he is wearing are Richard Brook's. It isn't hard to guess where he spent the evening.

Jim doesn't reply and you silently watch him strip in the dim light. You didn't close the curtains properly and the light of the streetlamp in front of the window is illuminating the room. Jim looks thin and boney. You haven't seen him eaten in a while. You've barely talked the last few weeks.

"Was it good?" you can't help but ask and even you notice the bitter undertone of your words. You sound like a jealous housewife. What do you care if Jim is fucking a small grey pathologist?

You still make me nervous when you walk in the room
Them butterflies they come alive when I'm next to you
Over and over the only truth

Jim doesn't even bother to reply to your question. In the dark you catch a glimpse of his frown and of his absent eyes. He's somewhere else already, probably considering Holmes' next step or trying to decide if he's gonna make you sleep on the sofa or whatever the fuck is going on in his head these days. Not like he'd tell you. It shouldn't hurt but it does.

Without a word yourself you turn your back towards Jim and squeeze your eyes shut. Fuck him. You have practically taken over the network since Jim decided to focus all his time and energy on Holmes' downfall and that means you have a busy day tomorrow. You need sleep. After a few more moments of ruffling clothes and his barefoot steps on the parquet the other end of the mattress dips and you can feel Jim climb into the bed. Not that you care. You pretend to be fast asleep even thought there's a lump of anger and fear in your throat that makes it hard to breathe. You're on the best way to slip off into one of your battlefield nightmares, even though Jim is laying next to you. Fuck.

The touch comes so surprisingly that you automatically reach down to catch and break his wrist before you pause mid-motion and pull your hand back. Jim's fingers are resting on your waist, one thumb stroking small circles over the bottom of your ribcage. He's humming a melody you've never heard before.

And I know that it's wrong
That I can't move on
But there's something about you

You don't do him the favour of responding to his touch. With your eyes squeezed shut you lay still, don't even allow yourself a shiver. He knows that you're awake, of course, but you haven't fucked in weeks, he has barely looked at you, let alone touched you but still, and you know that for sure, if he asked now you'd give in and sleep with him, you've sunken that low. Moriarty's personal whore. Touch-starved enough that a simple stroke of his fingers makes your limps feel like pudding.

He doesn't though. Instead of going further you can feel his head settle between your shoulder blades and the warm puff as he lets out a long breath against your skin. He picks up that melody again and his arm sneaks around your waist, holding you.

***

Yesterday I thought I saw your shadow running round
It's funny how things never change in this old town
So far from the stars

Sebastian Moran jerks awake with a muffled scream dying in his throat. There's the bitter taste of vomit on his tongue and it takes him a very long moment to adjust himself to reality.

Nightmares again, tiger?

"Sir?" His driver meets his eyes in the mirror, he's nervous and his face shows it.

I'm in the car.
I think I'm gonna be sick.
Jim's dead.

The melody is still stuck in Sebastian's head when he jumps out of the car and barely makes it to the patch of grass in the corner of the abandoned parking spot before he hacks up his dinner, that mostly consisted of whiskey and cigarette smoke. He falls to his knees, ruining his suit trousers forever.

If the whole world was watching I'd still dance with you
Drive highways and byways to be there with you
Over and over the only truth
Everything comes back to you