Repens

"Went wrong? You mean it happened faster than originally planned. No? Then don't bother coming back. In fact, don't bother with any future plans- seeing as you don't have one. A future, I mean."

"What happened?"

"Not now. Someone is waking up again."

Steph tried to keep her eyes motionless but it was no use. The moment his hand cupped her cheek, they opened by protective instinct. Her sight had returned and she felt almost normal again, almost. What a difference having all senses returned made. Unfortunately, his face was the first thing she saw. While she was still defenseless, she had a new plan- and she was clothed again as a plus.

"Evening, Miss Thomas." She remained silent. "Not up for a chat just yet?" The girl still appeared extremely weak and not quite up to par. "It's alright. I'll do all the talking. You aren't much fun when you talk anyway." Jim skipped over to a table and picked up a communication radio of some sort. "Phase two." Once the radio was returned to its original place, the criminal walked towards her once more. "My favorite sniper is following your boyfriend… and his boyfriend."

If he was trying to get a rise from her, he was failing miserably. She didn't like those she cared about being picked on but it was crucial to the plan that she not speak. A soft moan escaped her as her disoriented movements continued. She squinted every now and then but didn't force her eyes to fully open.

"Poor thing. Still drugged," Jim sighed, as if she were a sick puppy he had been nursing to health. "Her immune system is probably weaker than I predicted. This could be useful."

"What shall we do now?" an eager Sebastian asked, fidgeting with a pastry.

Moriarty noticed her eyeing the small bit of food. He got into her face once more and searched her reddened eyes.

"I bet you're hungry, aren't you? You'd have to be. Going on day two without food. Quite impressive." He took a few steps towards his right hand man, tore off a small piece of the pastry, and dangled the sweet smelling strawberry turnover just in front of her face. "Tell me how Sherlock did it." Her clouded eyes closed as she gave a hard swallow- her stomach aching. "Tell me and you can have it." It was all she could do to look up at him and give a deliberate shake of her head. "No?" A swift blow to her cheek. "How about now?" Her head dropped before she gave another small shake. Another hard blow left her right cheek stinging.

"Spirited isn't she?"

"Shut up," ordered the boss over his shoulder. His attention found her again. "Tell me something or you will wish you never heard the name Sherlock Holmes."

Hearing his name was more difficult than she thought it would be. Moriarty had said it before but this time it made her wonder if she had put too much faith in the brilliant man. Had she become too confident of him too quickly? Had she put him on a pedestal that equaled the immortal height he placed himself? If ever he was as clever as he thought, now was the time to prove it to the world, to her. Oh, how she longed to see him.

Moriarty's mobile buzzed from inside his pocket. He was so close that she could almost feel its vibrations herself. The villain tapped on the screen in a familiar pattern- a text message- then gave an evil grin.

"Ah, beautiful," he whispered in awe. "Here, have a look," he smiled alarmingly with sparkling eyes.

The phone was placed directly in front of her, the bright screen displaying a disturbing sight.
Sherlock and John were walking down Baker Street. The photograph was zoomed in a bit but still worried the brave hopeful woman. Jim's thumb slid across the screen as another photo made her imagination race. There was a sniper set up in the second story of the building- right across from Sherlock's livingroom window. This made her eyes grow larger with more fear than before.

Even as she remained as calm as possible, she could no longer assume that all would turn out as planned. All she could do was stick to her own personal plan and hope that Mr. Holmes would figure it all out in time. She was growing impatient, hungry, going a bit mad with worry, and trying her best to keep her hopes up.

"Still nothing?" The great Moriarty was actually showing signs of irritation. It was a sight not many had seen so she counted it a small victory. "Are you asking for another jab because we could arrange that immediately."

"A call," Sebastian interrupted with perfect timing. Jim gave a silent moan but took the phone before exiting the room. The taller gargoyle looking man came closer to her, almost looking curious, and whispered, "You're not helping yourself. The more defiant you are, the more likely he is to hurt you. And believe me, you wouldn't survive the sort of abuse he'll eventually put you through. Once he's through with the mind games, you only have a matter of time. Time is running out either way. May as well give yourself a few extra hours."

"Sounds like experience," she answered hoarsely.

"I've seen it before," he chuckled trying to hide the surprise in his voice and on his face. "Talking to him is in your best interest, Mrs. Holmes. Don't try to outsmart Moriarty. It cannot be done."

"Oh," she nearly smiled, "but it already has."

Jim's footsteps were heard before either looked over at him. He hadn't heard her speak or she would have been beaten on the spot. Sebastian was far too weak to rat on her. The mood of the atmosphere became threatening when Jim pulled a pistol from his the inside of his dress jacket.

"Alright, my patience is almost up, little Cassidy," he hissed with a calm expression. The man was truly mad. "Here is how this is going to happen. Either you start confirming the information I already have or dear Sherlock will be too late."

They had moved her to a different building, much smaller and less kept. Her eyes flickered somewhere behind him, towards the only door she could see. Lights of some kind seeped in between the concrete floor and the thick metal door. Not a sound was made but her face suddenly lit up with hope.

"He's already here," she whispered with the smallest of grins playing on her pail lips.