[closed] Missing: One Irishman

[bigbadbasher]

WHO: Sebastian Moran (bigbadbasher ) and Jim Moriarty (sneakyshoes )
WHAT: Finding each other again.
WHERE: Orlea
WHEN: 5/1
WARNINGS: Language, Sebastian likes his four-letters. Also very likely talking about violence and suicide.

Sebastian glanced down at his phone again, following the drawn map a certain stranger had been kind enough to give him. He was close to the area she'd indicated. That is, if he was reading it right. He turned on the spot, looking around and around.

"Come on, Jim, where are you," he muttered, looking down at the phone again. Gotta be here somewhere, you son of a bitch. A little way off, he spotted a bench. A bench with a figure on it. He took a step closer, lowering his phone.

"Boss?" he called.

Comments

might be talks of violence and or suicide too bb

[sneakyshoes]

Slowly, Jim raises his head, dead eyes glancing at Sebastian. Something clicks in his mind and he leans forward on the bench, cocking his head, clutching his phone to his chest.

"You came.."

[bigbadbasher]

Sebastian all but sprints to where Jim is.

"Jesus Christ, Jim, you've had me outta my goddamn mind." He doesn't know where to start, he looks so frail and small and lost.

"Where are we goin', what do you need me to do?"

[sneakyshoes]

".. Dunno."

He stares at Sebastian, blinking repeatedly as he tries to remember more about this man. Things flit in and out without really sticking: tigers and guns, maybe? and a man on a rooftop with something to prove, and that woman Porrim (something was off about her), and his phone and this place and-

It gets to be too much, and Jim shuts his eyes tight for a moment, taking a breath.

"I don't..." He glances, tired, up at Sebastian, like he's going to have all the answers. "I don't know, I dunno.."

[bigbadbasher]

Sebastian just stares for a few moments. Jim is always supposed to have the answers. Seeing him at a loss is never easy, but this is different. He seems paralyzed. A vague panic wells up in his chest, but he breathes through it, forcing it down and using adrenaline to fuel his focus.

"We're going to find somewhere to get you cleaned up. You can try to tell me what happened on the way. Can you walk?" God, please let him be able to walk. He's going to look fucking conspicuous indeed if he has to carry Jim.

[sneakyshoes]

"I think so."

He looks at his legs for a moment. His phone is still in his hands, and he clutches it to his chest.

"Yes... maybe.."

[bigbadbasher]

"Alright, come here." He holds out his hand for Jim, intending to act as a crutch to help him along. No matter what his injuries are, in this state it seems best to keep a tight hold on him.

"Can you tell me what hurts? And how you got here?"

[sneakyshoes]

Jim stares at the hand for a long moment. He knows this person makes him feel safe, but does he really know that? Is it fact, or just his head trying to fill in blanks he doesn't have the prompts to? He hesistates, reaching up at first but pulling his hand away again, and finally decides to trust him. He told Porrim this man would keep him safe. It all should be okay.

He's very careful upon standing. His feet feel far away and his head is alternating between pounding violently and going numb. "Head," he mumbles. "Dunno." Jim clutches tightly to his phone again.

There's blood on the back of his head and neck, mostly dried, but he doesn't seem to notice.

[bigbadbasher]

Hell. He can sort out some basic injuries, but head trauma is a little out of his league.

"Did that prick Holmes do this to you? Because I swear to fucking Christ I'll cut his lungs out and feed 'em to him."

He helps Jim along and glances around the street. He may have to settle for the bathroom of one of the shops.

[sneakyshoes]

"Holmes."

Name sounds familiar. He can't remember. There was a man on a roof with a purpose.

"Dunno."

He follows Seb with not much difficulty; the longer he's here, the clearer his head gets, and the easier it is to walk. He vaguely remembers choosing that particular bench out of a desperation to stop almost falling, but now it's simple enough to follow in a mostly straight line.

"Can't remember." Just the taste of gunmetal and a rooftop. "Holmes?"

[bigbadbasher]

"Yeah, Holmes." Fuck, this is going to be difficult if he doesn't even remember Holmes.

Suddenly, something he hadn't considered pops into his head.

"D'you know who I am?"

[sneakyshoes]

Oh, no. Oh dear. He'd been hoping he wouldn't be asked.

"...Tiger?" he asks quietly, voice heavy with shame.

[bigbadbasher]

Shit. Fuck shit fuck.

"You can call me that. My name is Sebastian. I..." Christ, how to even begin? "I work for you. Bodyguard. And a lot of other shit. It's complicated." Isn't that the goddamn truth.

Sebastian notices a little cafe that seems busy enough that they can slip in without anyone giving them too much trouble.

"Let's get in here, okay? Try to act natural."

[sneakyshoes]

"Natural," he echoes quietly, focusing more on the information he's been given. Sebastian the Bodyguard, who has something to do with tigers. It's complicated. What does that mean? Is it important? It sounds important.

"Why are we here..?"

[bigbadbasher]

Sebastian pounds on the door a short time later.

"Jim, it's Bash-- uh, Sebastian, open up."

[sneakyshoes]

The door opens slowly, Jim peeking out and taking a second to recognize him before opening it fully.

"Did you find a home."

[bigbadbasher]

Sebastian closes the door behind him and holds up a crumpled piece of paper.

"Had to charm a barista, but yeah, I got an address for a complex a few blocks away from here. Apparently we're not gonna have to worry about rent or anything. This place is fuckin' weird, Boss."

[sneakyshoes]

"Good.."

He stands close, not looking at the page. "Home?"

[bigbadbasher]

Sebastian can't help but smile a little bit.

"Yeah, we're gonna go home. Get you cleaned up, get some fresh clothes for you. Might not be quite up to your standards, but we'll sort it out."

[sneakyshoes]

"Oh.."

That's a noise that means "standards? what standards?" He shifts from foot to foot, staring at the door, and looks up at Sebastian again. "..Can we go? It's cold in here."

[bigbadbasher]

"Yeah, Boss, let's go." Sebastian shrugs off his jacket and puts it over Jim's shoulders.

[sneakyshoes]

Jim lets Sebastian take him out of the bathroom and down the street, towards their new apartment. He holds tightly onto Sebastian's shirt, tugging on it as they go, trying to take in everything around him. It looks like a normal city, and it's hard to believe he's never not been here.

"Sebastian," he murmurs, "where were we before?"

[bigbadbasher]

"London," he says immediately. "You 'n me have been in London for... Christ, must be about five years now."

It's not a long walk to the complex. Guides Jim through the doors and to an elevator.

"This might be a little hard to swallow, but you are a... how do I put this. You're a criminal mastermind. We operate out of London, yeah, but you do business internationally."

He picks a floor and a flat at random. It's not bad-looking, nice and modern.

"This is gonna do just fine for now."

[sneakyshoes]

He stops at the door, staring at Sebastian.

"I was what?"

He was evil? He hurt people, didn't he. He did, and he was probably hurt by someone who got hurt. Oh, no.

He starts to shake just slightly. "..What did I do?"

[bigbadbasher]

Sebastian tugs him into the room and closes the door behind them, putting his hand on Jim's lower back and guiding him around.

"Anything and everything. It's gonna come back, Boss. Let's get you in the shower, alright?"

[sneakyshoes]

"But-" comes the strong retort, but the initiative is lost. "..Okay."

He wanders forward, glancing around the flat.

"....where...?"