Chapter Text
"So… Romeo. Juliet. Goodnight, goodnight." James said, grinning with that mischievous smile of his. And then in an over-the-top English accent, "Parting is such sweet sorrow that I should say goodnight... ’cause I’m off to the pub."
The door clicks shut behind him and after a half a second Sherlock hears him hollering cheerfully.
"Now, how should I reward you?" The princess asks, drawing his attention.
"Oh, no, that’s not necessary." He says, sincerely. He didn't do this for money at the end of the day. Expecting a reward felt... wrong.
"At least let me top you up?" She offered. He handed over his almost empty glass and she turned towards the desk, topping up both drinks.
"Thank you."
"Your companion, James Moriarty, is quite brilliant." She says, her voice unreadable.
"But not as brilliant as you." Was that... coldness?
No, it couldn't because when she turns she gives him the sweetest, most sincere smile. They clink glasses.
"Here’s to your extraordinary future."
Sherlock gulps back his drink. More than anything right now, he wanted to get drunk and just forget today. It felt so wrong, leaving the case unsolved, yet it wasn't his place.
"You missed a bit." Shau'an said, gesturing to his face. He had completely forgotten about his recent head injury, the blood that coated the side of his head.
"Why don’t you sit down over there and I’ll clean you up?" The princess offered, picking up a wet rag and gently dabbing it against his face. It's so cold...
How long had the room been spinning? Not long, right? He would've already noticed.
"I’m not quite sure this is all, uh…" He wasn't even that drunk, why did he almost collapse when he bumped into his desk?
"I insist." The princess says, pressing her hands against his chest and pushing him lightly. It shouldn't have been hard enough to knock him over, yer here he sat on the bed.
Tick… tock
Come play with me, Sherlock
He was vaugly aware of Shau'an pulling off his shirt. He tried to fight, he really did.
"Play with her"
,He told his younger self
.Just play with Bea damn it
Sherlock, why don’t you play with your sister? Go on
."Get up you idiot"
He felt lips, hands on him that he didn't want there. He was paralyzed, he was panicking, but only semiconsious.
".Play with her"
He felt his shirt unbuttoned, his trousers unzipped, pulled off.
Hands far too low.
Stop. Please stop. He prayed silently.
He couldn't move. Why couldn't he move?
?Bea
?Where is she
?Cordelia
?Beatrice
"James?" He whispered, but no, he couldn't help him now. James had left. He was long gone.
!Beatrice
!Bea! Beatrice
.Oh, my God
."Your fault"
He was entirely naked. Covered in blood, no clue whom it belonged to. He still couldn't move. Why couldn't he move?
Shau'an wasn't here anymore. Where was she? She had been here a minuet ago... or possibly days ago. Any sense of time had since abandoned him. He tried to sit up, failed, faling back onto his bed, a quiet groan of pain escaping his lips.
He felt generally numb. But everything also hurt. The oil lamp, the noise of students coming and going to lectures (or possibly partys? It seemed rather dark, so it must still be night, or maybe even the next one), the sheets against his bear skin, the blood. Everything was so overwhelmingly there. He managed to sit up, then stood (he may have knocked over a bedside locker and broken an oil lamp in the process but in his opinion it was incredibly successful considering his state.).
He glanced around the room. He stumbled towards his desk and grabbed some clothes he'd thrown across a chair the other day. Struggled to pull on boxers and trousers and threw a shirt on, not bothering to button it.
His vision was still rather blurry and he was finding it impossible to focus on anything.
He stumbed across his room, each step a battle to stay uprright and pushed his door open and stumbled through the halls, leaning all his weight against the wall.
He didn't really know where he was going until he stopped in front of his door and banged on it.
"Yeah, I'm up! I'm up!" He heard.
Then the door open and he was met by a grinning Moriarty. "Sherl- oh fuck Sherlock." He said, face falling.