“You know you really push me too hard sometimes.” It is a false statement, which they both know. But still, Sebastian is growing weary after the six solid hours he has spent trying to master the techniques of his mechanical arm. Certain things he controls fine. The bend of his elbow. Raising his arm straight out to the side. But the hand. The fingers. Sometimes they contract on command but refuse to release the stance. It has particularly been a problem when the tiger finds himself under large amounts of duress. So, if he fires his gun once, there is no guarantee he’ll be able to straighten his finger enough to reload and shoot again.
“The doctor said you need to work on it, Bastian,” Jim purrs, his head tilting to the side to show how little tolerance he really has for Seb’s frustration with the whole matter. “I think you’re just lacking the proper motivation.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrow, knowing full well that Jim has something concocting in his mind. Some plan to push the sniper past his comfort levels into dangerous territory. “You’ve put me in the line of fire. It nearly got me killed. So clearly, it isn’t a matter of self-preservation, Jim.”
“For your preservation, no. But see. That’s where you missing the point.”
Sebastian doesn’t understand. His face betrays this fact.
“Do I really need to spell everything out for you, Tiger?” Jim chides, smiling a menacing grin that can only mean more trouble for both of them. “Tell me. Would you die for me?”
“No.” It isn’t an answer to the question so much as it’s Sebastian telling his boss that he’s unwilling to play this game. “No. Jim. I don’t trust myself. I can’t do whatever it is that you’re thinking.”
“Relax, Sebastian. And don’t tell me no. Now come here and put your hand around my throat.”
With this, Seb rolls his eyes. “Now is hardly the time for one of your little fetish plays, Jim.” When it is clear the criminal isn’t going to budge on the matter, Seb walked over and gently placed his metal hand against Jim’s throat.
“Tighter,” Jim commands. Hesitantly, Seb obeys. “Sebastian. If you do not make me beg for air in the next two seconds, I’m going to cut off your other arm.” With anybody else, this would be an empty threat. But James Moriarty is insane enough, and just suicidal enough that Sebastian believes him.
Quickly he tightens his grip, effectively cutting off any air flow to Jim’s lungs. When Jim doesn’t immediately praise his soldier or ask for air, Sebastian gives the mental command again, using enough strength that he could easily provoke permanent damage to the Irishman’s windpipe and voicebox if he isn’t careful.
The hand is stronger than Sebastian had ever been in the past, and it isn’t long before the veins in Jim’s forehead are protruding and his eyes widen.
“That’s enough, Tiger,” he mouths, putting one of his own hands over the metal one.
Playing the game, Sebastian ignores the initial request. “That’s not begging, James,” he jokes, one brow raised. Now who is playing with their kinks?
“Sebas…” As Jim’s eyes begin to roll back in his head, Seb finally gives the mental command to loosen his grip.
“Fuck. Jim, hang on. I’m trying. Just… Shit, pull against the fingers. I don’t think I can do this.”
The stress of the situation causes his entire arm to go into a full lockdown, elbow straightening so that Jim is pinned forcibly against the kitchen wall. The fingers, with Jim pulling at a couple and Sebastian prying at the thumb, still will not loosen.
“Fuck. No. No. Jim. What have you made me do?”
Even taking a step back so that Jim is free of the back barrier doesn’t help, as his arm is locked tight enough that he can literally pick the criminal up off the ground by the throat now. Unyielding. Clenching at his boss’ neck.
A string of profanity fills the air between them. “Yes,” he says in a weak tone. “Yes I would die for you.” Reaching for the nearest gun, Seb is down to his last option, to kill himself instead. Then the hand will completely release, won’t it? Or will it be locked in that same grip?
Now unsure of his options, the tiger closes his eyes and takes a deep breath which comes out in a shaky, terrified huff.
Finally the hand releases.
And Jim falls, lifeless, to the floor.
