Frozen Kisses (Jim Moriarty x Sherlock Holmes)

Chapter Thirty Eight- "I Need You To Do This For Me"

~Moriarty~

Sherlock's head shot up when he heard my voice and he didn't hesitate to hug me tightly.

"Okay, Sherlock, I love you but you're kind of leaning on my stitches", I laughed.

"Oh, sorry!" Sherlock pulled back and took my hand instead, "How are you feeling? Does it hurt? Do you want me to get the nurse for pain killers or have they given you that already? How did this happen? Who shot you?!"

"Woah, woah, calm down", I smiled at him, "I'm fine. Please don't worry about me".

"Who shot you?" Sherlock asked.

I shifted uncomfortably from the feel of a hole being in my stomach.

"It doesn't matter", I said with seriousness, looking him in the eyes.

"Jim, who did this to you?" Sherlock asked again, but this time more demanding.

I sighed, desperately not wanting to say anything but I knew that Sherlock wouldn't let it go.

"Sebastian Moran", I revealed, regretting it almost immediately.

"Where's the idiot now?" Sherlock sighed with fury.

"Well, I don't know!" I said, "He just walked out".

"Why would he shoot you?" Sherlock persisted, "I thought you used to be friends, or maybe more".

"What?!" I asked with shock.

"Didn't you go as far as to be best friends?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh", I sighed with relief, "No, not really".

"What made him so angry that he actually shot you?" Sherlock continued with finding out all the information he could.

"I don't know", I answered vaguely, feeling the urge to take more painkillers.

"Well, are you okay?" Sherlock panicked.

"Never been better", I lied.

"You just got shot in the stomach", Sherlock reminded me.

"Sherlock, I'm fine", I snapped, turning up the morphine level very high, "Just...tell me about what happened on your case today".

"But-" Sherlock started but then paused.

He started talking about the case he easily solved previously. I needed something to distract me and this was working a little bit. My stomach was beginning to really hurt and the stitches stung as if someone was pouring lemon juice in them. In fact, lemon juice would have probably been less painful. I accidentally clung onto Sherlock's hand even tighter because the pain was unbearable. And I never felt pain. This was rare but in such a horrible way.

"Jim, are you okay?" Sherlock bit his lip worriedly.

I tried to loosen my grip on his hand.

"Sherlock, can you do something for me?" I breathed in heavily, turning up the morphine to the maximum level.

"Anything", he nodded, looking at me with concern.

"I need you to do this for me, okay?" I closed my eyes, feeling a new wave of pain attack me, "You won't want to but just...please. Promise me you'll do exactly as I say?"

"Well, it depends what it is", Sherlock said slowly, changing his previous answer.

"No", I shook my head intensely, trying to show him how serious I was being, "I need you to promise me this before I ask you?"

"I never agree to anything before I know what it is", Sherlock stated.

I winced, groaning from the amount everything hurt.

"I should go and get someone", Sherlock began to stand up but I pulled on his hand.

"No, no, no, listen to me", I begged.

He sat back down hesitantly. I inhaled deeply before saying the next sentence.

"Sherlock, I need you to take me off the machine".