“Let. Them. Go.” Jim’s face was neutral but his voice was as hard as ice.
“Sherlock.” John warned from behind the detective who currently has you in his arms. He was surprisingly strong, and had a high pain tolerance. You could tell because he still hadn’t released you despite the numerous kicks he’d gotten from you as you’d tried to get away.
“Well. Jim Moriarty. The man who cares about nothing.” Sherlock quipped in a strained voice as you kicked him again. “Sorry that’s incorrect, almost nothing.” Jim clenched his teeth. “What do you think would happen if we took away the only thing he’s ever cared about.” Jim was silent.
“Sherlock!” John called again and Sherlock turned both of your bodies in annoyance.
“What?” John said nothing, but merely pointed. Sherlock went a little cross eyed but he managed to notice the little red laser dot that was aimed straight at him. He turned to Jim once more.
“You want an answer?” Moriarty smiled slyly. “Well your answer is you don’t. You don’t take away Y/n because you can’t. If you do, I’ll take away your Y/n.” Sherlock’s eyes widened as he saw the sniper dot had moved to John, who was staring at Moriarty, his eyes ablaze.
“Now, I’m going to say it nicely one last time. Let. Them. Go.” Sherlock slowly released you and took a step away. You stumbled out of his grasp and sent him the meanest look you could muster. Sherlock flinched. Moriarty waved a hand and the sniper dot vanished. You stalked proudly over to your boyfriend.
“I’ll make this up to you later.” Jim winked and gave you a cute smile, which you returned.
Okay, so I'm a little confused on the pre-John Mary timeline. We know that she took on the Mary identity 5 years before meeting John, but we also know that she dated David (who seemed like a pretty regular guy?) for 2 years "ages ago" by the time wedding planning rolled around. So-what- she leaves AGRA, books it to England, immediately hooks up with regular dude David, dumps him after two years, and immediately dates John? The David thing is really throwing me off. Think she had a use for him?
Well, there was some speculation in the past that David was her confidante, possibly was dating him until the “John Mission”, though I’m more thinking that this may not be so. Mary’s timeline with AGRA is a bit sketchy, but I do believe she did go rogue – that’s heavily implied in T6T – and I think that was when the Moriarty Organization offered her a better deal. They found out about HER past with Mycroft, and that’s how Mycroft became involved in the whole thing.
Or David was her last “John” that she was with during her tenure with AGRA… It’s never stated WHEN she was with David, just that it was two years. If she lied to John about her past, then she also could have lied to David about her CURRENT life when she was with him, and then broke up with him to start her mission against John and Sherlock.
So, assuming that Mary worked with AGRA in secret and David didn’t know about it, they were probably together when Tsibili happened – she went rogue during this mission, maybe caught the eye of the Moriarty Organization. Left David to become a sniper for Moriarty just before ASiP. Took on the new identity of Morstan after TGG where she went to “become a nurse” with Culverton and the plan to end Sherlock and John began to unfold. Mary returns around the beginning of year-two- of-dead-Sherlock mark to start re-insinuating herself into London, she gets word that Sherlock is on his way back to collect his heart, and gets into John’s circle. It takes John several months to finally trust her enough to accept Mary as a romantic partner, and 6 months later they’re engaged, Mary wins, she’s holding all of the cards in the game. Now she has full control over not only Sherlock but Mycroft as well.
After the incident with the old lady who started describing him, Moriarty stopped forcing the hostages to call Sherlock, probably because he feared that Sherlock would recognise him as Jim from IT. Meanwhile, Sherlock believed the missile plans was what Moriarty actually was looking for, but he was wrong. The reason Jim never communicated with him for the fifth case is because this case was about him and Sherlock (and John) and apparently he predicted that Sherlock, utterly excited, would use anything as an excuse to meet the promising nemesis. But Moriarty didn’t care about the Bruce-Partington plans (neither did Mycroft, actually) and consequently managed to surprise and impress the detective by throwing the USB drive into the water.
Anyway, Sherlock was the one who asked for a meeting (just like in Reichenbach). It seems Moriarty can never refuse an invitation coming from Sherlock. After one last big joke, when he made Sherlock believe that John is the villain, he appeared, showing all his power and intelligence. But there was a problem in this scene, I believe. The pool-Moriarty was very different from the phone-calls-Moriarty.
Jim first appeared as a gay man interested in Sherlock. In his phone calls his words are undeniably romantic; he even said that they were made for each other. However, while he went on with all the gay / sexual innuendos / jokes in the pool scene, he claimed that it was just a game aiming to make Sherlock “back off”. He claimed he enjoyed “playing gay”. Then he threatened him that if Sherlock didn’t stop prying, he would destroy him emotionally and eventually kill him. But there is a problem with all these threats and I think Sherlock was able to trace it.
After the fall, I was tired. It takes a lot to successfully pull off the illusion of your own death before the eyes of the world’s only consulting detective. A mind of genius in and of itself, along with the almost unbelievable amount of deductive reasoning… On St. Bart’s that day, I had to be believable. It’d taken weeks of planning. But I had at last gotten it done. After I died that day on that roof, I was able to start a new.
Even throughout my endeavors… If we’re speaking personally, the most difficult part was not being able to contact Sebastian. We’d spent so much time together, that in all honesty, when I was finally able to step away, I then realized how much I missed him.
All the precious memories I’d once had of him were stronger than ever. Pulsing through my mind as naturally as blood through my veins. I had chalked it up to mere anxiety at first. The pressure of not being able to have my bodyguard and confidant near me at all times. And such is to be expected after so many years of work at one another’s side. But no, it was more than that. More than I ever had, would like to, or will ever admit.
Clearly, my resources were limited exponentially. Unable to access any of my money, or estates, I had nowhere to live. While I was “dead” I spent a multitude of my time moving from city to city. Eating out of take out Chinese food containers, and bottled waters. Not the most luxurious of lives, I’m sure you can only imagine how much I’d hated it. The hardest part was how I’d had to make my money while I was away. Serving right hand to underlings, and nobody’s under some made up name. Doing odd jobs here and there, collecting my money and disappearing.
Unable to contact Sebastian left me in a harder position. I knew what I needed to do, but I couldn’t do it. Undeniably, The Ice Man had put a tail on Sebastian, which made contact not only impossible, but high risk. Leaving me exhausted, and frustrated.
I didn’t want my cover blown yet. I couldn’t have it blown yet. Not until Sherlock blew his first.
Oh don’t tell me you thought I didn’t know.
Of course he found a way to weasel out of all of it. He’s Sherlock Holmes, for gods sake. I didn’t pick him as a toy because he’d be an easy target, now did I?
Back to the subject at hand, when Sherlock was planning so was I. Allbeit, both of our plans landed us both in less than luxurious areas, with less than accommodating company, but so is life. But just as I thought Holmes would do, he targeted my web. Spending years in some attempt to tear it down. Naturally, I intended for this to happen, so I kept all contact information for those who may’ve proved useful at a later date, but other than that, they were cut.
Unlike Sherlock, I had no confidant. No one to cover for me. No one to lean on for support. I was alone in all of the entirety of the word. Leaving me in shambles. Until the day finally came that I’d heard Sherlock Holmes had re-appeared. Opening himself back to the public eye of London.
This was when I’d made my decision… I must act while everyone’s heads, were turned.
The day I was supposed to meet Sebastian again, for the first time in 3 years… I was a nervous wreck. I spent at least 3 hours of the morning, in bed. Nauseous with worry that he’d have forgotten me, or been hired by another.
He had no idea he was meeting me, of course. I’d returned to London under a false name, and, after weeks, managed to track him down. He, for some reason, would go to the cemetery at least once a week. I didn’t understand why, but I thought that perhaps, it was best I meet him there.
I got up, showered, and dressed, throwing on a suit. Made my way out towards the city. My disguise wasn’t a great one, but it was something. Hopping into my rented car, I headed towards the graveyard. I left early. Around 5 am, the sun was barely up yet. And for a while, I just- sat. Waiting in the car, staring at the graveyard.
I couldn’t understand why he’d visit it on such a daily basis. I’d come to the conclusion that perhaps he’d lost an old friend from the war, or something along those lines… But even when Sebastian spoke of the war, he never spoken of, or mentioned anyone who was worth that much effort. When I looked at the clock again, it was only 5:15 a.m. Time seemed to be moving so slowly… it was almost torturous. It was then, I decided it was time to leave the car. Investigate, maybe take a closer look at the damned tombstone Tiger Jack seemed to spend so much time staring at.
I made my way towards the graveyard, quickly, and quietly. The city was still asleep, some waking up; but one thing was for sure. The graveyard was practically empty. Walking through the gates, it took me about 3 minutes before I could find the usual tombstone that Sebastian practically planted himself next to for hours on end, guzzling down scotch like a fish with water.
Imagine my surprise when I saw it was my name on that gravestone… He must have paid for a burial, even though my body was technically never recovered..
My outlook on Sebastian then changed.
I used to laugh, and joke about the spider. About how I’d break all my toys, and throw fits when I was bored. That I had no one important, or that mattered to me. I must have stood in front of that tombstone for hours, scolding myself for my stupidity. My foolishness. The harsh words, the foul language. The insults. I mistreated Sebastian, quite horribly, I’m afraid. Odds are, even after we’re reunited, I will still be mistreating him. That’s just the way I am.
I must have been standing there for quite some time, because the next thing I knew, I heard footsteps on the gravel trail of the graveyard, crunching. It brings me back to reality enough for me to realize the sun was all the way up now. Birds chirping, the sky blue. There I was, standing in front of my own tombstone, giving myself the business for daring to “die” at all.
I look to my left, and suddenly, everything seemed okay..
A hollow-point bullet is an expanding bullet that has a pit or hollowed out shape in its tip often intended to cause the bullet to expand upon entering a target in order to decrease penetration and disrupt more tissue as it travels through the target. It is also used for controlled penetration, where over-penetration could cause collateral damage. Sebastian’s favourite.
Jim smiled his usual smile. “It’s sad to repeat patterns, but you called for it.” He waved unceremoniously and a red dot appeared hovering on Sherlock’s shirt. “But Johnny is not here to save you this time.” Another wave and the dot was gone.
“To make things more interesting,” the consulting criminal continued, “let’s play a game called Guess Where the Bullet Is Going to Pierce Your Skin.”
The detective’s reaction was not what he expected. Sure, he wasn’t waiting for gasps and tears but he definitely was not ready for a smirk.
“That’s your game?” Holmes mocked. “Predictable. But I don’t think we are going to play.”
Jim was internally frowning now, although he would never admit this. His eyes scanned his surroundings, an old custom when things drifted away from his plans, until they fell upon his own chest.