+16: Demons - Imagine Dragons

Request from @ConsultingFangirl_

Love. This. Song. *praises ConsultingFangirl_*

-

Sherlock really never expected that of the two of them, he'd be the one thinking that their relationship was moving at a snail's pace. They're young and have only just started dating. Surely they'd be all lovey dovey and unable to get enough of each other?

He'd always known that tons of intimacy would probably cause him, personally, to go running for the hills but that didn't mean he didn't want intimacy of some kind. Of course he did.  He wanted to be held and kissed by his boyfriend. He wanted to be told that he was loved and that he meant a lot to Jim.

But...

Jim is distant.

Ever since they started dating, the Irish boy had drifted further and further. Like he was shielding himself and avoiding Sherlock. Which is completely ridiculous because before they'd been friends for almost five years and, if they're honest, were probably closer to each other than they were to their parents.

So this distance Jim had put between them... It was hurting Sherlock. Very much so.

He wanted to understand. Jim was his boyfriend now and surely that would mean they'd get even closer? Maybe he had it all wrong.

So he asked his brother. Now, Mycroft wasn't one for relationships or people in general but he did understand how people work and knew a lot about life. So Sherlock asked him if what was happening was normal.

He basically gave Sherlock a theory he already had and he didn't want to accept.

He was doing something wrong.

It was obvious, really. Of course Sherlock was doing something to drive Jim away.

*

Jim's parents hadn't been the best people in the world - there was a reason that he was sent to live with his Aunty. Despite the countless times Jim was told that what his parents taught him was wrong and that they lied to him all the time.. well, some of the things they said were deeply embedded and he couldn't convince himself that the things he truly believed was false.

So when he entered his relationship with Sherlock... He struggled. Immensely.

A number of things his mother had taught him came to mind.

You're not lovable, Jim.

Don't let people look into your eyes for too long. They'll see how horrid a person you are. They'll see your demons.

You're an evil person. You don't deserve love.

He believed his mother when she said those things and to this day he believed her. He wasn't a good person and he certainly didn't deserve Sherlock.

Sherlock was gorgeous and so clever. Even though he was just seventeen, Sherlock was already on track for doing incredibly well in life no matter what he decided to go into, be it politics or sport (not that Sherlock really cared for either).

Jim, in no way, deserved to call Sherlock his boyfriend.

So he kept his mother's word in mind. He didn't let Sherlock close and didn't let him look into Jim's eyes for extended periods of time. He kept the boy at arms length so he wouldn't have a reason to run off and leave Jim.

Because if he had to hide the truth to keep Sherlock close, he'd hide forever.

*

As Jim sat at his desk in his cramped bedroom, he realised something... Really, he supposes that he always knew that he'd come to this conclusion.

Everything added together to bring him here; everything that he'd done, everything that decided his fate was to be, everything he had been told.

Recent events were what brought him here mainly. The shoes that sat on his desk, wrapped tightly in a plastic bag to keep anyone from seeing them or putting prints on them, helped bring Jim to this realisation particularly.

Sherlock was doing so great in life. He wanted to be a detective and he'd even invented the title of a Consulting Detective for himself. He was a genius, guaranteed to sail through life without much worry. He'd have everything he wanted and he didn't need Jim to get any of it.

His boyfriend wanted to be a detective... And Jim, at the age of sixteen, had taken another boy's life. If you asked him why, he'd say he doesn't know why he did it.. That's a lie. He knows. He knows exactly why he did it.

Not that the why mattered right now. What mattered now was that Jim knew he had something to do, involving his lovely boyfriend.

It was going to hurt, there was no doubt in Jim's mind that his next encounter with Sherlock was going to be painful for him. Jim was used to pain by now, though, he knew what it was like to have a loved one spit at him and tell him he's horrible and a bad person.

But Jim realised now. He probably knew all along, from the moment they started dating.

He realised... He had to leave Sherlock.  He had to hide the truth, shelter Sherlock. He had no other choice. He wasn't going to let Sherlock see this side of him, even if that meant letting the boy go - which it did.

Sighing, Jim pushes himself up from the desk and stretches before he grabs the plastic bag with Carl's shoes inside. He puts them in the back of his closet, he'd decide what to do with them later. Maybe tie a stone around the bag and throw it in the Thames.

After closing the door, Jim checks the time. 15:24. Time to go meet Sherlock.

Jim sucks in a breath, allowing his eyes to close. He allows himself this one moment. Just this one. That's all he gives himself. Then, he's opening his eyes, walking down the stairs, pulling on his shoes and coat, leaving for the Sherlock's house and on his way to see his boyfriend for the last time. He was on his way to break Sherlock's heart.

*

Mycroft Holmes and his parents had always been fully aware of the fact that Sherlock often acted unaffected about many things is life that were upsetting. In reality, the youngest Holmes was fragile. He was hurt easily but wore a thick, arrogant skin to cover all that vulnerability.

Now, they were seeing that skin break like glass.

He'd managed incredibly well, in Mycroft's opinion. He'd nodded and distanced himself as Jim stood by the front door, explaining that he didn't want to be with Sherlock - didn't even want to be his friend. Sherlock had even managed to keep strong when Jin said "I don't love you, Sherlock, and I never did. I'm leaving". He thought for sure that his brother would crumble at those words but he didn't. He nodded and bid Jim a farewell as he showed the Irish boy out. The moment that door was closed, though, and Jim was out of sight, Sherlock had slid to the floor and not bothered to try and keep the tears from flowing.

He had sat there, crying, for hours on end. He didn't say a word to Mycroft, Mummy or Father if they tried. When their father had tried to carry Sherlock to bed, he screeched like he was being physically assaulted until no one dared touch him. Not seeing what other choice they had, they leave him there and checked on him every ten minutes.

Sometime around midnight, Sherlock had gone up to his bedroom, dragging his heavy limbs without much care.

No one saw him for the next four days. He didn't come out to eat and he'd take the water that mother left by his door, the occasional cup of tea too. They had no idea what he was doing and if they had, they'd have tried to stop him.

But they didn't. Couldn't.

When Sherlock emerged, he was the same as ever but so very, very different. He'd wiped all traces of romantic emotions from himself, buried them deep in a room inside his mind palace. He'd deleted what it was like to fall in love and how it felt when he kissed Jim for the first time. All he left were the memories of being Jim's friend and the overwhelming feeling of having his heart broken. His heart that he had now protected from everything and anything.

The change was so small. Sherlock had never been all that good with emotions and he didn't seem to never be hurt. He'd always been like that. Now, however, he'd taken that aspect of himself to the extremely. He no longer had obviously flashes of vulnerability.  He no longer held himself in a way that suggested he cared what others thought. His tongue was sharper than ever.

He'd covered his true self up even more. Reverted well and truly back into his shell.

*

After... After the lab, Sherlock let himself have a moment. Ten minutes to be exact. Once John and he returned home from Bart's, Sherlock went into his room and forgot all about the case with Carl Powers for ten minutes.

He forgot all about the Bomber he was looking for. All he could register was how unbelievably angry he was.

Jim had... He just strolled into the lab!

Twenty years and he just strolls into the lab, smiling cheerfully and acting like it was completely fine that he was pretending to not know Sherlock. Then that hand he'd placed on Molly's back... The fucking number under the dish!

Sherlock couldn't believe the nerve of the boy. He'd broke Sherlock's heart all those years ago and now he just walks in with a stupid smile on his face, looking so much like the boy Sherlock had known all that time ago.

Sherlock wrecked his room in those ten minutes, throwing his furniture and belongings around, smacking a number of glass tubes with chemicals and causing the carpet to burn and fizz. John had banged on the door, worried for Sherlock. Sherlock had just shouted for him go away, rather crudely, and said nothing when he emerged, simply sat down to get on with the work. John had gone along with it, not mentioning the episode.

Sherlock was grateful for John's understanding of people. He knew when they wanted to be left alone, for subjects to not come up. He just knew. Sherlock was more than just fond of that skill.

*

It didn't hit Sherlock until Miss Wenceslas said the name aloud.

Moriarty... The bomber... They were his Moriarty. It wasn't a coincidence. Jim, his Jim, Jim Moriarty was the bomber, he was the 'Moriarty... Sherlock's fan'.

Jim... It all made sense...

Why Jim came back. Why he acted like he didn't know Sherlock. The flirty phonecalls. Everything just.. fell together.

Yet, despite the pain and knowledge Sherlock had know, he couldn't help the smile that was on his face as he types his message, inviting Moriarty to the pool.

Maybe, just maybe, this new development could be fun.