Chapter 8: Break

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"You told me about your past....I think I should do the same." Seb whispers, his breath tickling against the small hairs above Sherlock's ear. Sherlock frowns. "You sure?" Sherlock asks. "I think it's time. " Seb pulls Sherlock the last millimeter closer. Seb is a bit surprised how easily the detective allows himself to be pulled closer. "Where shall I begin?" Seb keeps the hushed tone. "What got you involved with Jim?"

Seb clears his throat slightly and begins, "I was just back from the war, didn't have much job experience besides being the best with a gun that the military has ever seen. "Seb feels Sherlock shift in his arms, getting comfortable. Sherlock is silent, allowing Seb to tell his tale without interruptions. "I was looking for a job. And a place to sleep. I met him in a nightclub where the bosses meet up and trade services. I was a gun and I needed work. I saw him, gotta say it, he was the prettiest thing there. But as it is in nature, the prettiest things are the deadliest."

"Go on..."

Seb clears his throat and continues. "He could tell I was military, the tan, the tell tale scars of it. Back then it was only a few on my arms and this one across my nose. Anyways, I naturally struck up a conversation with him, after a little I found out he was one of the bosses. He'd heard of me, the colonel dishonourably discharged for getting his entire team killed in a suicide mission. I was intrigued by the man. The honey smile and the Irish brogue. He had me trapped alright... Before I knew it I was accepting a job from him and he said he would provide a place for me to stay. "

"He got himself a live in...."

Seb nods, "It was exciting and not bad until I saw him. The real him. He really was a monster. By then we were shagging, because I don't have self control. One night he...I don't know what I did to set him off but he came in holding a knife and..." Seb's voice fades.

At that Sherlock sits up and turns around from half laying on him to face Seb. He puts a hand on his knee and nods, letting him know its okay to continue.

"Well....he gave his tiger more stripes. But even then, that wasn't as bad as when he decided he should put a mark on what was his. A job had gone wrong. Really wrong. Jim....Well, he decided he needed to teach me a lesson." Seb takes a deep breath. "He...Threw me down on the bed. And he fucked me. Hard. I bled. Afterwards he told me if I fucked up again he wouldn't be so nice to his pet. I would be butchered like the shit piece of meat I was. And I was his. Jim decided to put his name on what he saw as his. He cut me up. He put his name on my chest. He made me lick the blood off the knife.If I had only known this would have happened I would have never accepted his deal. I knew something was off but I thought with my fucking cock. "

Sherlock had been silent this whole time, barely breathing. It was only when Sherlock takes a proper breath does it shutter and Seb realizes that Sherlock was crying, for him. "Oh my god. Moran.... I am.... so so sorry. I am so sorry this happened to you. It was inexcusable and cruel and wrong. Oh god...." Sherlock breaks off as his voice fails.

Seb falls silent. He's never had anyone cry or even feel a little bad for him, everyone was just...too scared of him. "Sherlock, Sherlock it's alright." Seb gives him a weak sad smile. "Nooooo it's not! It's not even a little okay." Sherlock exclaims. "I had one. One 'session' with Jim. It was one of the most painful things I have ever experienced. Ever. I can not begin to fathom the depth of the depravity that Jim inflicted on you....." Sherlock's voice is a strangled sound. His breath hitches as the tears fall.

Seb falls quiet. "It was ten years of it. " Even with being so close to Sherlock he's almost not heard by the detective. Sherlock lunges forward to infold Seb into his arms. "I am so so sorry....." Sherlock whispers. Seb buries his face into Sherlock's shoulder with a soft sound of sadness, wanting to block out the rest of the world. Sherlock hugs him tightly, wishing he could have done something more. "My Sebby. I am so sorry." Sherlock's voice breaks.

The sniper's body shakes slightly as Sherlock does. Seb hugs Sherlock tightly, accidently knocking Sherlock over with the force of his affection. "Oh I'm sorry..." Seb was toppled onto Sherlock with, what Sherlock likes to call, tiger-weight.

"It's alright, Tiger." Sherlock says softly, freeing a hand so he can trace Seb's cheekbone with the pad of this thumb. Seb's cheekbones aren't nearly as sharp as Sherlock's are but they still contained a feline like, angular, yet gaunt, look to them. Sherlock's thumb brushes away the spilled tears. Sherlock sighs, eyes soft, looking up at the sniper. Most people would be terrified to be in this kind of position, but Sherlock was not like most people. Obviously. Seb's eyebrows pull up slightly, tears still falling. Sherlock isn't sure how to help comfort his sniper, but his hands gently card's into Seb's hair. He leans into the gentle touch, closing his eyes. Sherlock pulls the other arm free, and puts both hands on either side of Seb's face. Seb opens his eyes and looks at Sherlock quizzically.

Sherlock's eyes are gentle, understanding of Seb and his life's story. "You should know something. I don't think anything less of you and your marks. Every scar has a story and a price. It has made you into the man you are today. My Tiger's stripes." Sherlock purrs, lovingly. "Thank you. " Once again Seb bubbles with emotion as he whispers those two words. The tears go back to falling as forcefully as they first had at the happiness Sherlock's words brought.

Sherlock lets him process, not minding that he had been knocked over and being laid on. Though if he was honest, the hard floor was hurting a bit. At last Seb finally rolls off of him after he has figured it out. "Feel better?" Sherlock is on his side, looking at him. "Immensely. " Seb answers looking at the ceiling. Sherlock rises to his feet, also feeling better, like an enormous pressure had been lifted off his shoulders. Seb eyes him intimately. Now that what needed to be said has been aired there's a certain comfortability between them. Sherlock could also sense the change, he gives the sniper a soft smile as he turns to clean up the glass that was shattered in his fit of grief and rage.

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