Work Text:
The other three hired guns have their sights fixed on John Watson, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade, but Sebastian has his trained on Jim Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes on the roof of St Bart's. He sees everything, the expressions on Jim's face, his smiles, his impatience. Yesterday, Jim had told him his niggling worry that Sherlock wouldn't figure it all out, that he'd be normal. Sebastian had glared at him then, before Jim soothed him with a hand in his hair and said, "Sebby dear, your intellect may not be as vast as my own, but with your skill set you most certainly are extraordinary."
So Sebastian sits on the roof and watches. Watches Sherlock Holmes pull Jim close, the anger, watches Jim reveal a gun in disturbingly slow motion and shoot himself through the mouth. Sebastian gasps, hands nearly trembling, and in the moment that Jim slumps to the ground, he wants nothing more than to shoot Sherlock Holmes in the foot, make him watch his friends die, then shoot him through both eyes and end it all.
But Jim Moriarty's words tighten around his heart - "Whatever happens, Sebby dear, the plan is key."
So Sebastian lets one or two tears seep down his cheeks as he sits on the roof and watches Sherlock Holmes make one last call to John Watson, watches his lip quiver and eyes redden and hand tighten on his mobile phone, before he falls and Sebastian can almost hear Watson's scream, can almost hear the heart ripping from his chest.
"Be heartless, Sebby dear," Jim had said to him. "Then there is nothing to break."
Sebastian disassembles his rifle with practised ease and catches the elevator down.