John POV: John had to admit that he had no idea what was going on. He was supposed to be an assassin, he was supposed to be a spy, he was supposed to know everything that was going on in this castle and yet he could barely decipher what was going on in that one room. Sherlock was having a breakdown and yet Molly looked so excited. The mirror was shattered and Sherlock refused to show his face to John, what was going on with that poor boy's head? Sometimes John wondered if Sherlock was just mad, it would explain so many things, all of his weird moves and motives. But then again sometimes Sherlock was so clear minded and casual that John wondered whether or not he could doubt himself. Molly had been trying to tell him something, she had been making very weird hand gestures and mouthing words unknown, obviously she knew something that John didn't, but what?
"What are you doing out here without an escort?" asked a familiar voice behind him, a voice that sounded like a spider clinging to the walls. John sighed heavily, spinning on his heel with a forced smile on his face. It was Victor, of course, who always seemed to make an appearance when John didn't want him to. So basically he was everywhere because John wanted him nowhere. The less he had to see of that rat the better.
"Went to see Sherlock, didn't notice that my armored shadows weren't following." John admitted with a shrug. Victor walked closer, his black cape billowing in the air behind him. He looked like the very darkness outside, closing in on John with an alarming rate.
"Going to see Sherlock?" he asked, sounding angry. "Planning on killing another one of our kings are we?"
"Quit your worrying Victor, I didn't kill that king and I'm not planning on killing the next. I'm a servant; I do servant stuff, not assassin stuff." John insisted.
"And why would a servant want to be so close to our new king?" Victor wondered, his eyes glinting dangerously. John crossed his arms, looking Victor right in the eyes dispute the height difference.
"Just because he can't stand the sight of you doesn't mean he hates everyone. You're just jealous." John decided with a proud smile. Victor clenched his gloved hand, the hilt of his sword glittering dangerously on his belt. Victor was scary when he was calm, that was when John felt the most fear radiating off of him. That smile, those eyes, he made everyone think he knew everything, and that was power that was beyond fear. But this anger that John saw in him now, that was downright humorous. His teeth were clenched and his eyes small, he looked a bit constipated as he looked down on John in anger. It was a childish face to say the least, it made John wonder what would happen if he managed to push Victor over the edge, it he would snap or just break down into tears.
"I would never be jealous of a mere servant, that's for sure." Victor growled.
"Good come back, ya." John said with a laugh, and Victor's jaw clenched even more. His usually attractive face looked as if someone had stepped on it, John wondered if he had gotten so angry that he just deflated.
"The funeral only just ended but you're coming back from Sherlock's...he sent you away." Victor concluded, a small smile appearing once more on his face. Dang it.
"He needed some time alone I suppose." John decided. Victor's eyes flashed once more, looking very opportunistic.
"Oh John, if only you knew what was truly going on in our poor Sherlock's head." he said in a sort of sing song voice. He had gone back to his usual antagonizing self, but John had much preferred the Victor that had been run over with a wagon.
"I may not be able to read him, but I've got a good idea of what you're thinking." John decided.
"And what would that be?" Victor wondered. John just smiled at him, shaking his head, finally feeling like he had the upper hand.
"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. It would explain why you're so bitter about Sherlock preferring my company to yours." John insisted.
"What are you suggesting? I'm quite sure you're wrong, but please, humor me." Victor said, his confidence swaying the slightest bit.
"I don't need to humor you when your whole life is a joke." John decided, starting to turn away. But Victor grabbed his arm, pulling him back. John yanked his arm away as quickly as possible, holding in his scream of fear to the best of his ability.
"Don't touch me!" John exclaimed. Victor's eyes were alight with madness; he looked completely twisted, even though there was a smile on his face but murder in his soul.
"Tell me John." he insisted, grabbing John's shoulder once more and pushing him into the stone wall. John's head banged painfully against the wall, gasping in shock. It was unlike Victor to lash out, he had never showed any sort of violence before, at least not until he thought his secrets were threatened. John tried to pull away but Victor's arm was like steel, he wasn't moving and John wasn't going anywhere. Victor moved closer and closer, looking something like a crazy ex-girlfriend even though he hadn't even been anywhere close to winning Sherlock's heart. "Tell me and you can walk away."
"You're insane." John insisted, trying once more to squeeze out of Victor's grasp.
"I'm not." Victor hissed, his teeth so close to John's face that he could smell his foul breath. Victor slid his hand to John's throat, holding him to the wall and pressing down on his esophagus, making it harder and harder to breathe with every second that passed.
"What do you think you know about me John?" Victor hissed.
"It's not so nice is it?" John wondered in a wheezing voice, feeling Victor's fingers tighten around his neck. "Not so nice to have people prying around in your head."
"I will kill you and I will have no consequences, tell me, servant, and maybe I'll let you walk away." Victor hissed.
"You love him." John exclaimed, saying it right into Victor's face, hoping that his words felt like a brick wall. Victor's hand fell from John's throat, letting John take deep, grateful breaths of air, leaning up against the wall and watching as Victor's face contorted into a smile.
"All of that for something as preposterous as love? I'm almost embarrassed for you Mr. Watson." Victor decided, stepping away and rearranging his armor, as if it had been messed up during his attack.
"Don't pretend, don't even try. The look on your face when I asked you about your feelings towards Sherlock, there's only one emotion that a man would be truly afraid of." John insisted.
"I'm not afraid of love." Victor assured. "But I think, in time, you will come to be."
"Don't turn this on me Victor, I can go over there right now and tell him. You don't love him, prove it. Tell it to his face." John snapped.
"There is no reason to do anything so pathetic." Victor insisted, sounding just the slightest bit worried.
"There's no reason to do anything Victor, none at all." John insisted.
"I don't love Sherlock Holmes, I don't love anyone." Victor defended, standing tall. John frowned at him, wondering why this wasn't affecting Victor as much as he hoped it would.
"I think we'll find out, won't we?" John wondered with a knowing smile, hoping that Victor would be the least bit intimidated. "Goodnight Victor." John decided, turning away and starting down the corridor.
"I could have you locked up." Victor called after him.
"And I could always tell the truth." John agreed, putting his hands in his pockets carelessly and walking away, leaving Victor alone in the hallway to reflect on what had just happened.
YOU ARE READING
Sherlock is the youngest son of a powerful family dynasty, with all the pressure of being the perfect prince sitting on his shoulders. However, he builds his good reputation on lies and tricks, and he dreads the day when his failures will come into...