Sherlolly Oneshots

Blood Stained (Reverse!Lock)

His icy eyes glinted with what could have been humor or rage. It was hard to tell. The black suit he was dressed in had sleeves spattered with a dark liquid. Molly felt her heart near stop in her chest. Who. Whose blood was that. Her dark eyes rapidly flitted around as Holmes paused over the kneeling figure of a shaking John Watson. Her gaze landed on James to the direct left of her and a sick feeling twisted her stomach.

His head for bent down, normally slicked back hair hanging in loose strands in front of his eyes, his breathing labored and mouth open, a mixture of blood and saliva dripping from it and pooling below him. Whether he was awake or not Molly wasn't sure, but she knew for certain that Sherlock had made sure Moriarty knew he was beaten.

"John Watson." At the sound of Holmes's velvet voice, Molly's head snapped up. "The strategist." John was staring straight ahead with narrowed eyes and a straight mouth, his back straightened and shoulders down. A true soldier, Molly thought, biting back a bitter laugh. "You know," Holmes said nonchalantly, "your wife was quite a good rat." Molly's heart sank to her stomach, a breathy "no" escaping her lips. John visibly stiffened, shock clouding his features though he did not take his eyes from the place in which he was staring.

"Yes. It was quite a long time before we caught on to her plan. And really, I must applaud you on your choice of spouse." Sherlock crouched down, meeting John's gaze directly with his mouth twisted into a smirk. "It took us an equally long amount of time for us to get the information of your plan out of her. She has quite the endurance levels." Molly felt hot tears slide down her face and could see John's eyes become glassy. She couldn't help but admire the silver-haired man, however. His shoulders had begun to sag and eyes had widened in horrified thought but he hadn't made any move to break his position.

"Though," Holmes continued, the smirk not leaving his face, "it was quite a relief when we discovered what really would make her break. Not not the broken bones. Not the deep gashes on her back. No. All we had to do was aim the little red dot on your head and she cracked like that." Sherlock snapped his fingers at the last word, making John visibly flinch. "She broke down, quietly giving us the information we needed in exchange for your life." The consulting criminal stood up, straightening his jacket. Molly couldn't stop the tears streaming down her face and now John's if she tried. Not at Sherlock's next words.

"She sends her love to Posey. Or, is it Rosie? I couldn't tell, her voice was muffled behind the thick glass of the gas chamber we had her locked in."

John Watson broke. Rage equivalent only to that of the gods flashed across his face. "You fucking bastard!" John shrieked at Holmes, making a move to try to get to his feet, only to have his back kicked roughly by Sebastian Moran and send him face-first on the ground. John didn't try to get up. He just laid there, letting broken sobs rack through his body and bounce around the room, accompanied only by the loud laughing of Sherlock as the lithe man made his way over the James. John's sobs became background noise.

"James Moriarty." Molly watched as James Moriarty's heavy breathing paused. Holmes was staring at him, the grin completely wiped from his face as Moriarty's head slowly lifted, meeting Sherlock's gaze with a small smile on his mouth. Molly had to keep herself from gasping. Blood poured down the side of his face from a large gash just above his temple. More streamed from a deep cut on his lip and even more bubbled from the corner of his upturned mouth.

The consulting criminals icy gaze narrowed as he spoke, "the ringleader." And that was all he said. That was all he needed to say. It was like they could read each other's minds. They might as well have. They'd studied each other for so long, so desperate to see the other, to know them.

To beat them.

Sherlock Holmes stared at the grinning James Moriarty, a frown tugging at his lips. Tension built in the room and the only noise was that of John's quiet sobs from his place laying face-first on the ground.