Fleeting Impressions | J.M.

16: breaking promises

"James Moriarty . You call him James," Sherlock shutters in disgust. It reminds me of the time I had him try shrimp when we were younger.

John finally breaks out his stupor, "But he's dead." He stares at his shoes like he's seen a ghost. His hands tremble on the tea cup so bad it rattles against the saucer. He puts it down.

Mycroft's already on the phone, informing the government that Moriarty is back.

I look around, faulting in hiding my confused expression.

"You know him then?" I sit back down, hands between my legs.

"Know him? According to James, we are practically the same person," Sherlock hisses at me.

John looks to me, "We call him Jim by the way."

"Why is that relevant? Stop spouting useless facts," Sherlock snaps. John shrugs pathetically. I know all the men in this room, and there behavior might not be apparent to some, except John's of course, but the bite in my brothers tone and the rapid dialing of Mycroft shows their true fear. They are in shock. Terrified.

"What have you done?" Mycroft mutters.

"I always knew you were the stupid sibling, but this is rock bottom. And I've been doped up in a drug house," that's Sherlock again. "Let me tell you who Moriarty really is."

For the next two hours and twenty minutes I got the whole story. How Moriarty pretended to be gay, which reminded me a lot of the grocery store. And how he dated Molly. Then how he tried his hardest to ruin sherlocks reputation and throw my brother through hoops. He made him solve cases and put peoples lives in danger. Which made remember how he lured me to the theatre. And then the fall.

"You jumped off a building? Are you insane?" I lose my cool for the first time all day. I was stoically taking in information, but that was the last straw.

"I thought he was dead for over a year. He just got back actually. From the dead," John nods like it's nothing. "Still mad, actually."

"It was my plan, sister. And I thought I had just got done dismantling Moriarty's entire criminal web, obviously all for nothing," Sherlock runs a hand over his cheek. The poor lad.

"Well maybe you should have checked if he was really dead before you go skipping over hospital walls," I sarcastically spout. But it's a cover for how I really feel. I could have lost two important people in my life that day. Well, technically I wouldn't have even met James if he had really died that day. "Good thing Molly was there."

I make a note to see my old friend at the hospital at some point. Beat some sense into her while I'm at it. She needs to stop getting involved with my brothers suicide missions. Literally.

"So what now? He's obviously not dead," I ask.

"Well now, I have every top security detail at my disposal to comb the entire city of London looking for him. I thought my brother had taken care of it," Mycroft finally shuts his phone to join into the conversation.

"After almost two years, why would he want to blow his cover," John asks, clutching a pillow to his chest. He hasn't moved much.

"I don't know, just, everyone stop talking," Sherlock rubs circles on his temples.

"Now is not the time for playing in your conscious castle! I could be going to jail here," I slap him on the arm.

"Mind palace," they all say in unison.

"But she is right, dear brother. There is only so much I can do for our sister. Why would you do it in the first place?" Mycroft asks, directing his last question to me.

Then John looks up, "yeah, how did you even meet him in the first place."

It seems it's my turn to explain the last month or so of my life.

"I was working at an Ice cream shop. He came in an ordered my favorite-"

"Mint chocolate chip," Sherlock butts in.

"Yeah. And," I pause thinking about how I should word this, "he caught my attention."

Mycroft sighs with a grimace. "You found him attractive." John stutters, his tea dribbling from his lips.

"Will you all shut up and let my finish," I feel my cheeks heating up a bit. "Anyway, he kept coming in. Giving me hundred dollar bills. And then he started dating my coworker. Eventually kidnapping me to talking. Then he kidnapped Emma to test me." I realize how similar my story sounds to Sherlocks.

"Okay but how did he end up getting you to go to the Tower of London?" Mycroft lowers his eyebrows in a glare. I have a feeling him and Sherlock are starting to pick up on how this all played out, despite my bleak description of the events.

"He didn't tell me where we were going. He just took me for a car ride and we ended up at the Tower."

My brothers look to each other. A disappointed look on their faces. "So he promises to take you on a date. Woo you with his money and you go along willingly. Oh, the Tower of London is a great place for a date, James," he mocks. His curls bounce with his head movements and I want to shave him bald for it.

I get it. I fell for a criminal. But I don't need my brothers blaming my for all this. They have nothing to do with my life anymore.

"Maybe I should let you go to jail. Obviously you enjoyed stealing the crown. Isn't that right, sister." My eyes tear up at Mycroft's words. But the only one that notices is John.

I turn from the living quarters and walk up to my brothers room. Locking myself in. With the tiny amount of strength I have left, the dresser gets pushed in front of the door. I don't want to speak with them anymore.

The bed looks inviting and I crawl in with my clothes on. My eyes close, but not without letting out a few silent tears.

It's all caught up to me now. I did enjoy being a criminal. And I liked James, a lot. But I'm now feeling the guilt creep up.

For the first time in my life I was actually happy. I found a man that understood me in a way that I didn't know I needed. But then reality comes in the form of my successful brothers and pulls me back down. I'm disappointed again. Disappointed in them making fun of my feelings. Disappointed in them for threatening me into submission. For blaming me for the entire incident.

But most importantly, I'm disappointed in James.

He promised.