Disclaimer: see chapter one, plus, title for the epilogue taken from Adele's Rolling in the deep


Epilogue: There's a fire starting in my heart

The house was blown to pieces; a little gift to Mycroft Holmes, who might have hoped Jim would come back at some point, and be caught. Two of Mycroft's men, who were guarding the house, lost their life that night.

Jim, however, had other problems. The whole day was exciting enough so he could forget what Sorcha had said. But now, as Sebastian was out, probably rewarding himself with a nice and docile woman, and Sorcha was doing the laundry, Jim was lying on his bed, naked apart from his boxers, and watching his toes. He would have tried to tell his big toe to wiggle, but he knew this wasn't a movie, and the toe probably wouldn't listen. Yet, he believed that Sorcha wasn't mistaken. She reacted to his every touch, always had, and if she said he had touched her, then he had. Which meant that he had felt her touch first. Was it possible that, as soon as his mind shut down, like in sleep, his body forgot that it didn't want to work? He had to ask a doctor about it. But right now, he only wanted a little sign. His hand reached into his bedside table and brought out a needle. Without hesitating, he buried the needle into his thigh. He didn't flinch. No pain. He brought it out again and ran it over his shin, drawing a line of blood. Nothing. He threw the needle away and leaned back into his pillow, moaning.

Sorcha was in the room within a second, "What's the matter?"

"I was just moaning." He rolled his eyes. "You're better than any alarm button."

She noticed the blood on his legs, "Anything?"

"Nothing. I could as well just amputate them here and now."

But Sorcha shook her head, "Time, Jim. Give it time. I'll go get the disinfectant."

When she came back, and started patching Jim up, he murmured, "How come you still believe, when even I don't?"

She shrugged, "It's what I am. An optimist. You've been through so much shit and got over it, now, who's to say you can't get over this?"

"This time it's different. It always used to be a damaged body with a healthy mind. Well, more or less. This time it's the other way round. And…" he hesitated. "It scares me to no end."

"I can understand that. I am scared, too." She reached out and patted his hand, "But, soppy as it sounds, you're not alone. Seb and I are there, and we won't leave you."

"Even though you have to clean me up and everything?"

"Yeah. So what, other people get cleaned up as well by people that love them. They are generally older than you, but fuck it." She put the bloody wipes away. "I'll go and get us something to eat. How do you feel about pizza and red wine?"

"I'm not hungry. But you go ahead."

"You need to eat something, Jim."

"No, I don't. Now go."


Pain. So much pain. Mycroft Holmes. He was watching. Watching as his brutes were slowly beating the life out of Jim. Beating, if only they had stopped at the beating. But they dealt a hell so much bigger than this to him…

Jim startled from his sleep. It took him a while to realise that Mycroft Holmes wasn't here, and neither were his brutes. The only people present were Sorcha, who had curled into a ball on the couch, and, as he could see from the light in the kitchen, Sebastian, who was probably again ignoring the smoking ban in the house. He grabbed the first thing in his reach (his phone) and threw it at Sorcha.

She almost fell off the couch, "What? What the hell…"

"I need to use the loo."

"Oh yeah. Sure…" She wiped her face and then staggered over to his bed. "You could just call Sebastian, you know. He's awake…" She put the lights on. "And I love how he always tries to hide the fact that he has been smoking in the kitchen by eating the first thing he sees…"

Jim pulled the sheets away, "I don't think… what the fuck?" There was blood on his bed. Not much, but it was there. And it came from the scratch on his leg. "What happened?"

Sorcha took a closer look. "Looks like you scratched it." She brushed her fingers over it. "Feel anything?"

Jim didn't answer at first, but then he said, his voice only a whisper, "It itches… A little."


This is it. Another story finished. Many thanks to those of you who reviewed. The next story should be up soon. Love you all, fergie