Sebastian lay back on his bunk, closing his eyes. The sounds of the other men around him faded away as he started to drift off into a light sleep. He never slept heavily anymore, not since being kidnapped when he was younger. He was always on guard now, always ready for something terrible to happen. That's probably why he was picked for the job of being the guard for a squad that was to be shipping out soon. Within the next few weeks, a squad was to head out, and this time, he wasn't going to be completely bored out of his mind protecting a bunch of idiots.
Well, no, that wasn't true. The squad was full of idiots, but there was one thing different about this one than one's he'd accompanied before. The medic.
Dr. John H. Watson, lead medic and Captain. He puzzled for a moment. 'Captain Dr. John H. Watson? Dr. Captain John H. Watson?' He chuckled lightly to himself at the second thought, knowing the first sounded much better.
Captain Dr. John H. Watson was a beautiful blond haired man with naturally pale skin, but because of their exposure, it was currently in a wonderful state of looking sun-kissed. He had the most beautiful eyes, they were like magic. Under one light, they were blue, and under another they were brown, and sometimes green. 'Central heterochromia' was what it was called scientifically. (Sebastian had gotten bored one day and decided to talk science with some of the other guys)
Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep and the morning sun was shining in through the windows. He had to go in for a check up with the good doctor to make sure he was fit to go out with the squad in a few days. He quickly got dressed, tying his boots tight and making sure every other part of his uniform was perfect. He walked quickly to the medic's tent and took a deep breath before walking in. "Dr. Watson? Er...Captain Watson? Captain...Dr. Watson?" he called, closing his eyes, kicking himself for his stumbles.
A small chuckled came from one side of the tent. "You're going to be spending a lot of time with us, just call me John." the blond doctor said smiling at the sniper.
Sebastian felt his cheeks get a bit warm and he swallowed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. "O-Oh...well...J-John, then." he murmured. "Uhm...I'm here for my check-up?" he asked, looking around a bit nervously. He had just remembered that he hated being in doctor's offices, and at this point, not even the handsome doctor was making it better.
John could see the fear in his eyes and the man smiled lightly. "Don't look so frightened, Colonel, I'm not going hurt you, I promise. I don't even have to give you a shot or anything, so there's nothing to be afraid of." he reassured. He helped the taller man onto one of the beds. "Alright, I'm just going to do some general tests to see how your reactions are." he said and smiled gently, trying to keep the man calm.
Sebastian nodded, nibbling his lower lip, calming slightly at the kindness of the doctor, but his nerves were still in knots. But after each thing that John had to check, his nerves seemed to calm a bit more. "You're really good at this..." he murmured, looking up at John quietly. "No wonder you're the one they value most." he chuckled lightly, biting his lower lip.
John reached out and grabbed the man's chin, bringing their faces close together. "You shouldn't bite your lip like that, Colonel, it's not good for your lips." he whispered, brushing his hand along the man's jaw carefully.
((I hate myself for this, but....TO BE CONTINUED.
I'M SO SORRY. MY BRAIN HURTS TOO MUCH TO FINISH. But I will.))
Friday, November 8, 2013
Another Johnstian (for @LoyalWatson)
After the events at home and his brother Cyrus running away to let him live his own life, Sebastian was lost. He had nothing. His family was gone, his home was gone. He had nowhere to go, nothing to do. All he had was the gun his father had left him.
He lived on the streets in the nearby town for a while and while living there he heard rumors about a war that was going on in Afghanistan. In hearing of this, he decided that he would try to get involved. If he didn't die during the war, he would at least have money afterwards from being a part of the forces to get himself a place to stay.
So after a few weeks, he went to the nearest station to enroll. He had to go through some testing in order for the officers to be sure that he was fit enough to join, and they also tested other things, like shooting. Sebastian by-passed everyone in that area of the training and testing. He had been shooting his entire life, and was a damn good shot.
He was quick to make it up the ranks while at base doing training and drills and other things. Before long he was designated to a team as their guard for when they were supposed to be shipped out. It was during this assignment that they met.
While out, one of the guys on the squad got into a fight with Sebastian, he couldn't even remember what it was about at this time, but he knew it had gotten him pissed off enough to shoot at the man. Not shoot to kill, of course, because he was part of the squad he was supposed to be protecting. But he shot him, all the same, and had to bring him to the medic of the squad.
"Excuse me, you're the medic, aren't you? Er...Watson? Dr. Watson, wasn't it?" Sebastian asked as he brought the injured man into the tent.
The blond man turned around, a small smile on his face before he saw the bleeding man. "Jesus! What happened?!" he exclaimed, rushing over to help the man onto one of the beds that was set up.
Sebastian sighed. "I...shot him, sir." he said simply, shrugging a bit, a cigarette hanging from between his lips.
"You.../shot/ him?! But he's part of our squad! Why would you shoot him, Moran?" the blond man asked, quickly getting to attending to the man's wound, cleaning it and getting ready to close it up. He glanced at Sebastian when he didn't receive an answer right away. "Well?" he asked, looking at the man with a stern gaze.
"I...well...he threatened me, sir." he said, rubbing the back of his neck gingerly. "I don't...I'm not really a people person, sir, I didn't...I don't know how else to deal with people..." he added, looking down at his feet.
John sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Moran...you know that when you get relieved, you'll have to deal with people in the outside world. And if they confront you, or threaten you, you can't just /shoot/ them! You have to learn how to...how to talk things out!" he said, wrapping the man's bandage as he spoke.
Sebastian nodded, disappointed in himself, and upset that he had disappointed the attractive young doctor. "I'm sorry, Dr. Watson...I'll do my best to learn quickly."
((This one I don't want to continue, but I thought I'd post it anyway.))
(A post from the Writer)
Ships. Pairings. Slashes.
Whatever you'd like to call them, I'm going to lay down a list of the ones I fancy. So here we go:
Whatever you'd like to call them, I'm going to lay down a list of the ones I fancy. So here we go:
Sebastian Moran/Jim Moriarty (MorMor)
Sebastian Moran/Sherlock Holmes (Seblock)
Sebastian Moran/John Watson (Johnstian)
Sebastian Moran/Mycroft Holmes (MyMor?)
Sebastian Moran/Sherlock Holmes (Seblock)
Sebastian Moran/John Watson (Johnstian)
Sebastian Moran/Mycroft Holmes (MyMor?)
Sebastian Moran/Gregory Lestrade (Sebstrade?)
As of right now, I don't have any other ships with Sebby. If you want a ficlet for any of these pairings, send me a mention or DM request @HisSniperMorMor on twitter and I will write a ficlet based on the ship you ask about.
That's all I've got for tonight, so have a good night everyone and I shall return to you all when I wake up. And with my return, comes Sebby's return.
Goodnight and sweet dreams
~Writer
~Writer
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Escape Route
The last straw was probably when he went into the closed off bedroom and saw the closet of Westwood suits. He couldn't handle the sight and had cried for several hours afterwards. Tiring himself out with crying, he had fallen into a light sleep where he had a dream about the man that used to wear those Westwood suits.
Kicking himself awake from the beautiful dream, he knew it was time to start moving on. It had been 3 years now, after all. He wasn't going to be coming back anytime soon, if he hadn't already, so the sniper needed to get over what had happened, get over his loss.
So, that very day, he packed up all that he could and left the flat, locking it--and the memories that resided inside--up before departing.
He didn't know where he would go, but Sebastian was a smart man. He knew he needed to go somewhere that would keep him distracted and hold his attention for a good amount of time.
Finally, after some internal debate, he decided on going back to China. He was going to reclaim his nickname of the 'tiger sniper'.
Kicking himself awake from the beautiful dream, he knew it was time to start moving on. It had been 3 years now, after all. He wasn't going to be coming back anytime soon, if he hadn't already, so the sniper needed to get over what had happened, get over his loss.
So, that very day, he packed up all that he could and left the flat, locking it--and the memories that resided inside--up before departing.
He didn't know where he would go, but Sebastian was a smart man. He knew he needed to go somewhere that would keep him distracted and hold his attention for a good amount of time.
Finally, after some internal debate, he decided on going back to China. He was going to reclaim his nickname of the 'tiger sniper'.
((Continue later))
Solo RP Compilation (from @HisSniperMorMor)
Sebastian sat on the roof, cigarette in his hand, rifle bag at his side,
knife in his other hand. He tossed it experimentally, catching it in
the same hand, sighing out a cloud of smoke. The sun was setting in the
sky, over the city he called home. It was a beautiful city, sometimes.
One of those times would be this time of day, when the sun was setting
behind the buildings, and they cast a shadow across the ground. From up
here, on his perch, it was like he owned the world. He was king of all
he saw before him.
Slowly, he lay back, resting his head against the ground, staring up at the darkening sky. He closed his eyes, cigarette to his mouth, taking a slow drag and holding it in for a moment before breathing it out. "Fuck..." he murmured to himself.
As the sky become dark and scattered with dim stars, he knew he had to get up. The nights got too cold to lay out here on the roof like this. He needed to get back to his empty flat, if you could even call it a flat. It was barely bigger than a box, it felt like. It was suffocating and he hated it there. He tossed his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with his boot before riffling through his bag to get out the materials that he needed. He carefully and almost lovingly put together his rifle and set it up, taking a peek through the scope, and adjusting it to get the shot that he wanted. He grabbed another cigarette, putting it to his lips but not lighting it just yet.
He pulled his dog tags out from under his jacket and squeezed them in his hands. "Stay safe tiger..." he murmured, remembered the words by heart, always, and repeating it to himself whenever he felt alone and exposed. It had become like a mantra that gave him strength. He stepped up to his gun, peering through the scope, lining things up, finger on the trigger. All he had to do was wait now. His jobs had gotten easier since his boss had--
He swallowed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Not now, Sebastian, get your shit together. You've got one job...then you can think." he reprimanded himself, getting quickly back to the task at hand.
He waited. Waiting was always the boring part. The annoying part. He started humming an old Bee Gees tune as he waited to see the face that he needed to see.
When he spotted the man, he took the shot, took a moment to watch him fall and the people swarm around him, most likely screaming and crying and wondering where the shot came from. He chuckled to himself and started to pack up, swinging his rifle bag onto his back when he was finished. He lit his cigarette and climbed down from the roof, bag on his back, cigarette between his lips. Time to collect and then get some more whiskey. Maybe some more smokes.
He wandered through the still crowded city, head down, sticking to the shadows. He didn't want to stand out, and he hardly ever did. Because people are blind. They don't care about what other people do as long as they don't run into anyone.
He doesn't even realize where he's going until his feet bring him to the old flat, where he lived with James Moriarty. "Jim...." he breathed, swallowing heavily. His tears burn in his eyes and he looks down, taking a seat on the steps, curling up there, waiting for the morning to come.
Slowly, he lay back, resting his head against the ground, staring up at the darkening sky. He closed his eyes, cigarette to his mouth, taking a slow drag and holding it in for a moment before breathing it out. "Fuck..." he murmured to himself.
As the sky become dark and scattered with dim stars, he knew he had to get up. The nights got too cold to lay out here on the roof like this. He needed to get back to his empty flat, if you could even call it a flat. It was barely bigger than a box, it felt like. It was suffocating and he hated it there. He tossed his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with his boot before riffling through his bag to get out the materials that he needed. He carefully and almost lovingly put together his rifle and set it up, taking a peek through the scope, and adjusting it to get the shot that he wanted. He grabbed another cigarette, putting it to his lips but not lighting it just yet.
He pulled his dog tags out from under his jacket and squeezed them in his hands. "Stay safe tiger..." he murmured, remembered the words by heart, always, and repeating it to himself whenever he felt alone and exposed. It had become like a mantra that gave him strength. He stepped up to his gun, peering through the scope, lining things up, finger on the trigger. All he had to do was wait now. His jobs had gotten easier since his boss had--
He swallowed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Not now, Sebastian, get your shit together. You've got one job...then you can think." he reprimanded himself, getting quickly back to the task at hand.
He waited. Waiting was always the boring part. The annoying part. He started humming an old Bee Gees tune as he waited to see the face that he needed to see.
When he spotted the man, he took the shot, took a moment to watch him fall and the people swarm around him, most likely screaming and crying and wondering where the shot came from. He chuckled to himself and started to pack up, swinging his rifle bag onto his back when he was finished. He lit his cigarette and climbed down from the roof, bag on his back, cigarette between his lips. Time to collect and then get some more whiskey. Maybe some more smokes.
He wandered through the still crowded city, head down, sticking to the shadows. He didn't want to stand out, and he hardly ever did. Because people are blind. They don't care about what other people do as long as they don't run into anyone.
He doesn't even realize where he's going until his feet bring him to the old flat, where he lived with James Moriarty. "Jim...." he breathed, swallowing heavily. His tears burn in his eyes and he looks down, taking a seat on the steps, curling up there, waiting for the morning to come.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sebastian sat on the couch, staring at
the sleeping pills on the table, and the few bottles of alcohol he had left.
Then he glanced over at his rifle bag and his handgun. He closed his eyes and
ran a hand over his face, trying to gather his thoughts as the tears welled up
in his eyes. He had nothing left, and everyone was after him now, so what was
the point in sticking around to be caught and tortured in a prison somewhere.
He had been living on what Jim had left behind for him, which wasn't all that
much in retrospect. What with all the expensive suits the man always wore...
But that wasn't what mattered. He took a deep breath and pulled out his e-cig.
It was one of the last things Jim had gotten him, telling him that he 'didn't
want you to kill yourself like that'. He took a deep drag, the taste of coffee
filling his senses, and then he blew out the vapor, sighing. It wasn't as good
as the real thing by far, but it was alright... Better than nothing anyway. He
opened his eyes slowly and looked out the glass doors in front of him, out at
the dimly lit cityscape. It was beautiful tonight... And how appropriate. It
had been exactly a year now. Today, last year...Jim had shot himself. In those
beautiful brains. That marvelous, brilliant, STUPID, SELFISH brain. Sebastian
squeezed his eyes closed as a tear dripped down his cheek, and then the
floodgates broke and he was sobbing all over again. God, it was pathetic... Jim
would slap him silly if he saw him like this, but still, he couldn't stop. He
picked up a bottle and poured himself a glass, not caring of the substance,
just needing to be numbed. He glanced again at the sleeping pills. He was
really thinking about it now. He took a gulp from his glass and then downed it,
still thinking as he poured himself another. "Jim...I don't know what to
do without you..." he whimpered. "How did you expect me to live after
that...after watching you...seeing you...How could you do this to me...?"
he asked, staring up at the ceiling. He angrily threw the glass across the room,
watching it smash against the opposite wall. He blinked and stood up from his
spot on the sofa and sighed, starting to pace. "FUCK YOU JIM!" he
screamed, falling to his knees finally, grabbing his head and rocking on the
ground, sobbing. "You fucking bastard...you said you'd never leave
me...But where are you now, huh? Where the FUCK are you NOW!?" he cried
out between the heavy sobs. He curled up on the floor, crying himself into a
sleep.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sebastian sighed out a cloud of smoke,
the cloud floating lazily from his lips. He set his cigarette down and looked
through his scope, trying to find a good target. He'd finally stopped moping
about the flat and was getting out and about a bit more, but never going near
St. Bart's for fear of relapsing from this leap forward. He still thought of
Jim, fondly, but he was done feeling sorry for himself. Moping wasn't getting
him anywhere with his life, so it was high time he put his big boy trousers on
and got over it. He found a target and took a deep, calming breath, and the
frigid morning air waking him up and keeping him alert. He gently squeezed the
trigger, hitting his target dead-on, and the can nearly 100 meters away
practically exploding. He chuckled and sat back as chaos began on the streets
below. His work was done.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The streets were quickly emptying,
everyone heading home to their loved ones or at least something they loved. The
dark clouds were quickly closing in and he could hear thunder off in the
distance, rolling in with the clouds. A storm was heading his way, but he was
far too in his own world to pay the ordinary world any mind. It wasn't his top
concern right now. Not really. Memories had been attacking him constantly in
recent days, the stress of solitude eating him up and spitting him out. He was
clearly losing himself along with everything he once had. /flashback/ Lightning
clapped outside the small fragile building and Cyrus was curled up in his lap,
shivering and whimpering, tears streaming down the small boys cheeks as Seb
gently carded his fingers through the light hair, humming a gentle lullaby.
"Cy, what do you say we go curl up in bed, huh?" he asked the smaller
boy, kissing his hair carefully. "Come on. I'll keep you safe, I swear it.
The mean ol' storm will never get you with me on the job." he said and
grinned, ruffling the boy's hair. /end flashback/ He held his head, slipping to
the ground, shaking and squeezing his eyes shut, just as the rain started to
come down on him. /flashback/ "Well, are you going to really do it, or can
I trouble you to work for me?" the genius man said, an adder grin on his
thin lips. He offered the sopping wet sniper a dry umbrella and a kinder smile.
"You're wasted on that pavement Tiger, come home with me." he added.
/end flashback/ The tears were mixing in with the rain and he was shaking uncontrollably
now with the sobs and the cold. He just wanted it all to stop. He wanted to be
okay again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sebastian sat up on the rooftop where
he had first met the Napoleon of Crime. He smiled slightly at the outlandish
nickname. The last time that he had been here, he had been planning to off
himself. He closed his eyes as the sky drizzled tears down on his cheeks. The
man had saved his life, as others had tried, but he was the one to succeed. Not
only had he gotten him away from the roof, but he kept him busy enough that he
never even thought to try again. And he taught Sebastian how to fall in love
and be in love. Even if it was on accident, it happened all the same. He had
fallen in love with the genius man. The small terror of a man. The spitfire.
And never again would he find a love like they had. Jim was the only friend
that he had ever known...The tiger sniper sighed, staring up into the sky,
water falling in to his eyes. "I love you Jim...and I always will."
he whispered, pulling a little box from his pocket and setting it on the ledge
beside himself. "And...I wish I knew how you felt in return..." he
sighed, getting up carefully and leaving the rooftop and the box, along with
the painful memories, behind. And hopefully this would be the last time...But
he knew that hope was misplaced. One didn't get OVER Jim Moriarty.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sebastian watched the clouds overhead,
arms behind his head, rifle at home. His only form of protection today was his
handgun. Not that he wasn't good with a handgun. In fact, he was just as deadly
with a handgun as his rifle. But today was a relaxing day. Another anniversary
of Jim's death. He sighed, wishing for some action. He missed the danger.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sebastian hated the nights when he just
couldn't get to sleep; he would just stare at the ceiling or drink. He had
given up smoking a few years back, but every year since, he contemplated taking
it back up, just to spite the man he had quit for. "Damn idiot..." he
murmured, rolling onto his side on the couch. He couldn't sleep in that bedroom
anymore. Hadn't even opened the door since... He grumbled to himself continuing
to stare at the dull ceiling. "I'd rather be anywhere right now...anywhere
but here without you..."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reichenbach Fall
He'd been lost before the consulting criminal had found him and taken
him under his wing. He had nothing until that man came into his life.
And now everything he did was for that man, and for that man alone. He
no longer cared about doing things for himself, it was pointless. He
belonged to the spider, and he would do anything necessary to make him
happy. He owed him that much, at least.
So when the job came about with the bombs, and the consulting detective, he made no move to question the motives or consequences that his boss was getting them into. He made no move to sway him of the plan, and went alone, no questions asked. He loved these sort of little games, the kind where people's lives were in the balance. Good vs. Evil. But were they really evil? And was the consulting detective really good?
He didn't even question his boss when he was told little but a position that he was supposed to be in. He was given coordinates, and one objective: If the detective did not jump, shoot the doctor. Simple enough. This game was easy. Either the detective would die, or his precious doctor would. There was no way out of this one and there was no chance of anything backfiring.
Except it did.
It did backfire.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sebastian climbed the building, rifle bag at his back, a sharky grin plastered on his eager face. He was excited for this round. Everything they had been planning and working for came to this, and Jim must have had some big idea in mind, what with the sort of objective his men had been given.
He stopped at the top before taking out his rifle, his thought trail stuck on the kiss his boss had bestowed upon him before they had departed from the flat this morning. It was not unusual for the man to be spontaneous, he was always that. But...this kiss was different than others they'd shared in the past. It wasn't a tease, it wasn't a joke. It was...almost an apology. But an apology for what? He couldn't quite puzzle it out and something wasn't settling right in his stomach with the look in the man's eyes before they parted ways to go about this final game.
Quickly, the sniper set up his rifle, setting the bag to the side for cleanup afterwards. He knelt down, peeking through his scope, trying to see what was going on.
His boss stood on the roof opposite, the roof of St. Bart's hospital. The detective had yet to arrive, but Sebastian assumed it would only be a matter of time now. He felt a buzz in his pocket and pulled out his phone.
'Hey Tiger. You ready for the last act? -JM'
Sebastian chuckled lightly at the pet-name Jim had become fond of using with him, especially in text and around the other men, to make them even more uncomfortable than they already were.
'Always, boss. You know me. -SM'
He set his phone down carefully, checking for any movement, nothing yet. Nearly time though, it must be.
'Our friends will be joining us shortly. Be prepared. You know your orders. Do nothing else. Understood? -JM'
Sebastian carefully read the message and he set his jaw firmly. Jim was serious now, that meant that there were things going on that he wasn't privy too, which was always dangerous.
'Boss, I don't know what sort of game you're intending to play, but don't do anything rash. -SM'
He almost added 'please' to his last message, but what would that have done? If his boss was set on doing something, no amount of pleading or begging or warning would do anything to sway him from what he thought he needed to do. When Jim Moriarty had his mind set, there was usually no going back. ...except when he was in his /moods/.
'I know what I'm doing 'Bastian. Do not question me. Ever. Now be a good pet and get ready. I hear Sir Boast-a-Lot coming up the steps now. -JM'
Sebastian read the text and couldn't help but chuckle at the fairy tale name that Jim had created for the detective. He peeked through the scope, setting his phone down, not hearing it buzz again. Things were starting now. The detective and Jim were talking, though Sebastian couldn't make out the words. They seemed to be arguing. There was a moment where all seemed to be going well, the detective stepped towards the edge--
but then things got bad.
Really bad.
He could see it in Jim's eyes. His usually veiled emotions, the fear that could be seen through the sniper's scope. Could the detective see it too?
And then, before Sebastian could even react, there was a gun, a wicked grin and
BANG
The world seemed to go in slow motion as the man fell. The most brilliant man the world had ever known, his signature adder grin on his face as he fell back, going down...down...and then it was over.
Sebastian was frozen. He couldn't move away, all he could do was watch. Watch as his whole world turned upside down and inside out. The detective was shocked, it was obvious. He stepped to the edge, away from the now lifeless form of James Moriarty. He pulled out his mobile, most likely to call the doctor, and of course, as always, he was there.
Sebastian spotted the loyal doctor getting out of a cab on the street just below. They spoke, the two of them, saying their goodbyes, he expected, as he had not been able to say his own.
The detective said something, what it was, the sniper did not know, and then he threw his phone to the roof behind him and took the step over the edge, falling, flailing, to his own demise upon the pavement below. And now, the doctor would know the sniper's pain. Of losing that which is closest to your heart. Though neither had known of these feelings previous to losing that which caused them.
And while Dr. John Watson rushed to the side of his fallen angel, Sebastian Moran packed up his rifle, stuffed his phone in his pocket and rushed to find his fallen devil.
The climb up the fire escape was difficult. Not that his rifle was heavy, or hard to climb with, but that his feelings were weighing him down. His sense of loss, and betrayal. He reached the top, and climbed over the edge, closing his eyes quickly to fight back the tears that had been burning there since he started his climb. As he opened his eyes, his vision blurred, but he could make out the figure of his boss, laying on the rooftop, gun still in his one hand, pool of blood surrounding him.
"You'd hate this." he murmured to the motionless body on the ground. "One good thing about you being dead I suppose...You can't complain about the blood on your Westwood..." he whispered, falling to his knees and cradling the man's head in his lap.
'One last thing Tiger... I should have told you, but I knew you wouldn't play along if I had. This is the end of our story. Our last chapter. I'm going to die up there today, on that roof. And you won't be able to save me this time. I love you 'Bastian. -JM x'
So when the job came about with the bombs, and the consulting detective, he made no move to question the motives or consequences that his boss was getting them into. He made no move to sway him of the plan, and went alone, no questions asked. He loved these sort of little games, the kind where people's lives were in the balance. Good vs. Evil. But were they really evil? And was the consulting detective really good?
He didn't even question his boss when he was told little but a position that he was supposed to be in. He was given coordinates, and one objective: If the detective did not jump, shoot the doctor. Simple enough. This game was easy. Either the detective would die, or his precious doctor would. There was no way out of this one and there was no chance of anything backfiring.
Except it did.
It did backfire.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sebastian climbed the building, rifle bag at his back, a sharky grin plastered on his eager face. He was excited for this round. Everything they had been planning and working for came to this, and Jim must have had some big idea in mind, what with the sort of objective his men had been given.
He stopped at the top before taking out his rifle, his thought trail stuck on the kiss his boss had bestowed upon him before they had departed from the flat this morning. It was not unusual for the man to be spontaneous, he was always that. But...this kiss was different than others they'd shared in the past. It wasn't a tease, it wasn't a joke. It was...almost an apology. But an apology for what? He couldn't quite puzzle it out and something wasn't settling right in his stomach with the look in the man's eyes before they parted ways to go about this final game.
Quickly, the sniper set up his rifle, setting the bag to the side for cleanup afterwards. He knelt down, peeking through his scope, trying to see what was going on.
His boss stood on the roof opposite, the roof of St. Bart's hospital. The detective had yet to arrive, but Sebastian assumed it would only be a matter of time now. He felt a buzz in his pocket and pulled out his phone.
'Hey Tiger. You ready for the last act? -JM'
Sebastian chuckled lightly at the pet-name Jim had become fond of using with him, especially in text and around the other men, to make them even more uncomfortable than they already were.
'Always, boss. You know me. -SM'
He set his phone down carefully, checking for any movement, nothing yet. Nearly time though, it must be.
'Our friends will be joining us shortly. Be prepared. You know your orders. Do nothing else. Understood? -JM'
Sebastian carefully read the message and he set his jaw firmly. Jim was serious now, that meant that there were things going on that he wasn't privy too, which was always dangerous.
'Boss, I don't know what sort of game you're intending to play, but don't do anything rash. -SM'
He almost added 'please' to his last message, but what would that have done? If his boss was set on doing something, no amount of pleading or begging or warning would do anything to sway him from what he thought he needed to do. When Jim Moriarty had his mind set, there was usually no going back. ...except when he was in his /moods/.
'I know what I'm doing 'Bastian. Do not question me. Ever. Now be a good pet and get ready. I hear Sir Boast-a-Lot coming up the steps now. -JM'
Sebastian read the text and couldn't help but chuckle at the fairy tale name that Jim had created for the detective. He peeked through the scope, setting his phone down, not hearing it buzz again. Things were starting now. The detective and Jim were talking, though Sebastian couldn't make out the words. They seemed to be arguing. There was a moment where all seemed to be going well, the detective stepped towards the edge--
but then things got bad.
Really bad.
He could see it in Jim's eyes. His usually veiled emotions, the fear that could be seen through the sniper's scope. Could the detective see it too?
And then, before Sebastian could even react, there was a gun, a wicked grin and
BANG
The world seemed to go in slow motion as the man fell. The most brilliant man the world had ever known, his signature adder grin on his face as he fell back, going down...down...and then it was over.
Sebastian was frozen. He couldn't move away, all he could do was watch. Watch as his whole world turned upside down and inside out. The detective was shocked, it was obvious. He stepped to the edge, away from the now lifeless form of James Moriarty. He pulled out his mobile, most likely to call the doctor, and of course, as always, he was there.
Sebastian spotted the loyal doctor getting out of a cab on the street just below. They spoke, the two of them, saying their goodbyes, he expected, as he had not been able to say his own.
The detective said something, what it was, the sniper did not know, and then he threw his phone to the roof behind him and took the step over the edge, falling, flailing, to his own demise upon the pavement below. And now, the doctor would know the sniper's pain. Of losing that which is closest to your heart. Though neither had known of these feelings previous to losing that which caused them.
And while Dr. John Watson rushed to the side of his fallen angel, Sebastian Moran packed up his rifle, stuffed his phone in his pocket and rushed to find his fallen devil.
The climb up the fire escape was difficult. Not that his rifle was heavy, or hard to climb with, but that his feelings were weighing him down. His sense of loss, and betrayal. He reached the top, and climbed over the edge, closing his eyes quickly to fight back the tears that had been burning there since he started his climb. As he opened his eyes, his vision blurred, but he could make out the figure of his boss, laying on the rooftop, gun still in his one hand, pool of blood surrounding him.
"You'd hate this." he murmured to the motionless body on the ground. "One good thing about you being dead I suppose...You can't complain about the blood on your Westwood..." he whispered, falling to his knees and cradling the man's head in his lap.
'One last thing Tiger... I should have told you, but I knew you wouldn't play along if I had. This is the end of our story. Our last chapter. I'm going to die up there today, on that roof. And you won't be able to save me this time. I love you 'Bastian. -JM x'
Humble Beginnings
The two youngest Moran children didn’t really know much of their
mother, because she died early on in their lifetimes. Sylvester was the
only one of them to actually remember her, because he had been ten when
she was killed. He and his father had agreed not to tell the younger
boys about their mother being murdered, instead, the story was that she
died in a car accident, which, in fact, she had. But they didn’t go into
details about why the accident happened. She was killed to get to their
father. His employers had her tailed and killed in the accident.
Sylvester moved out when Sebastian was ten, Cyrus being five. Augustus then took Sebastian under his wing and taught him the ways around gun, teaching him how to protect himself and his brother, while also teaching him skills such as fixing cars, skinning animals for their skins, and hunting in general, which Sebastian would later use in life as his living.
When Sebastian was around 15, his family was kidnapped by his father’s employers. They were brought to an unmarked warehouse, blindfolded and gagged. Sylvester had also joined in the same business as his father when he moved away. Sebastian and Cyrus’ blindfolds were taken by their captors as they interrogated Augustus and Sylvester. When they refused to give the information they were being asked for, their captors killed the men in front of Sebastian and Cyrus, and Sebastian, never being without a weapon of some sort, went on a blind rampage, his vision going red as he slaughtered the men. He released Cyrus and they took their murdered family and burned their bodies.
Sebastian didn’t speak for months on end. He took care of Cyrus, cooking for him, caring for him when he was sick, and hunting periodically. One day, after a hunt, Sebastian came home to find Cyrus missing. He panicked at first, when he did not find his little brother, thinking perhaps their had been men from his father’s employers that had found and kidnapped him. That is, until he found the note. His brother had left home, hoping to leave Sebastian to enjoy his own life his own way. Without the burden of having to care for his younger brother.
Sebastain didn’t stay in the empty house long after his brother’s departure. He moved to Asia a few weeks later, not bothering to take anything but a few guns and knives; just weapons. He hunted just about anything, but his specialty was tigers. He loved the skins of the tigers, either keeping them or selling them off to buy ammo and new guns. Soon, he heard about a war that was raging and he decided to sign up for the military, hoping to get more experience with guns and such in doing so.
So he went to war. There he met Dr. John Hamish Watson, a rather attractive man, whom Sebastian came to fancy. During a late part of the war, their camp was attacked and to protect the defenseless Dr. Watson, Sebastian shot anything with a gun pointed at him, not even realizing he was also shooting his own men. Though he saved John’s life, he was dishonorably discharged from the military.
For about a year or so after being discharged, he had gone through several odd jobs, nothing sticking. He was thinking about giving up, when he was contacted by a man named Jim Aiden Moriarty. He started working for this man as his bodyguard and person sniper, ridding the world of any who he saw fit.
Sylvester moved out when Sebastian was ten, Cyrus being five. Augustus then took Sebastian under his wing and taught him the ways around gun, teaching him how to protect himself and his brother, while also teaching him skills such as fixing cars, skinning animals for their skins, and hunting in general, which Sebastian would later use in life as his living.
When Sebastian was around 15, his family was kidnapped by his father’s employers. They were brought to an unmarked warehouse, blindfolded and gagged. Sylvester had also joined in the same business as his father when he moved away. Sebastian and Cyrus’ blindfolds were taken by their captors as they interrogated Augustus and Sylvester. When they refused to give the information they were being asked for, their captors killed the men in front of Sebastian and Cyrus, and Sebastian, never being without a weapon of some sort, went on a blind rampage, his vision going red as he slaughtered the men. He released Cyrus and they took their murdered family and burned their bodies.
Sebastian didn’t speak for months on end. He took care of Cyrus, cooking for him, caring for him when he was sick, and hunting periodically. One day, after a hunt, Sebastian came home to find Cyrus missing. He panicked at first, when he did not find his little brother, thinking perhaps their had been men from his father’s employers that had found and kidnapped him. That is, until he found the note. His brother had left home, hoping to leave Sebastian to enjoy his own life his own way. Without the burden of having to care for his younger brother.
Sebastain didn’t stay in the empty house long after his brother’s departure. He moved to Asia a few weeks later, not bothering to take anything but a few guns and knives; just weapons. He hunted just about anything, but his specialty was tigers. He loved the skins of the tigers, either keeping them or selling them off to buy ammo and new guns. Soon, he heard about a war that was raging and he decided to sign up for the military, hoping to get more experience with guns and such in doing so.
So he went to war. There he met Dr. John Hamish Watson, a rather attractive man, whom Sebastian came to fancy. During a late part of the war, their camp was attacked and to protect the defenseless Dr. Watson, Sebastian shot anything with a gun pointed at him, not even realizing he was also shooting his own men. Though he saved John’s life, he was dishonorably discharged from the military.
For about a year or so after being discharged, he had gone through several odd jobs, nothing sticking. He was thinking about giving up, when he was contacted by a man named Jim Aiden Moriarty. He started working for this man as his bodyguard and person sniper, ridding the world of any who he saw fit.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)