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It’s only when Jim is gone that Sebastian realises how much he fucking adored the evil little bastard.
It’s when he’s in bed at night, when it’s half three in the morning and he can’t sleep, not because Jim is playing the piano, not giving a shit about anyone but himself, but because Jim isn’t playing the piano.
It’s when he gets up in the morning and the other side of the bed is empty, when he walks into the kitchen and there isn’t a cup of black coffee waiting for him in the tiger-striped mug that Jim had bought for him to say sorry for leaving a jar of human eyeballs in the fridge.
It’s when he polishes his sniper rifle, and can’t remember the last time he used it. That’s a lie, he can remember the last time he used it. In fact, it was a day so awful that he’ll never forget it.
It’s when he starts taking jobs from clients who aren’t Jim, and they get caught, or he immediately notices how utterly brain dead their schemes are and turns down the work. He’s spent more than enough time around Jim to know when a plan is pre-destined to go arse over tits.
Worse still is when he does take the job, and he’s on his stomach in some building in where-the-fuck-ever, pointing his rifle at some poor, unsuspecting son of a bitch, and he’s bored out of his mind because Jim’s voice isn’t in his ear, whispering flirty and/or filthy obsenties in order to get him turned on, because Jim always knew exactly how to distract Sebastian. Jim thought it was hilarious. Suffice to say, Sebastian didn’t.
It’s when he gets home at night, and Jim isn’t pacing the flat, getting all agitated about this, that and the other. When he isn’t flying into his little fits of psychotic rage, breaking lampshades and smashing plates. Or simply sitting on the sofa, relaxed and reading a book (100 ways to kill a consulting detective, etc.). It’s when he isn’t standing there, calm, waiting for Sebastian, in ridiculously expensive loungewear looking all adorable and cuddly and sweet mother of jesus, Jim Moriarty and cuddly should never be used in the same sentence. Sebastian loved it when Jim wasn’t all manic, when he was tired and lazy and would curl up against him, fall asleep whilst Sebastian watched Top Gear or The Real Hustle. Fuck it, Sebastian loved Jim period. Jim could be anything, he often was, the man was “SooooOOooOOooo changeable”, afterall. But the one thing that Sebastian noticed the most was that Jim. Wasn’t. There.
And it broke his fucking heart every time.
So when he’s walking to the corner shop at the crack of dawn to pick up some cigarettes, and his eyes catch sight of the latest headline, he can think of only one thing.
Revenge.
SHERLOCK HOLMES IS ALIVE