Moran knelt next to Jim and gently turned him over, examining the cut to his head before his boss half slapped him with a flailing hand. "Off! Monster! Brute! You're smothering me! If I want my mother, I'll climb into her casket." Jim growled even when Moran seemed unphased by the abuse and helped his boss up to his feet. "Go away, Sebbie! Get ready for our fourth player!"

Moran looked at Sherlock as he passed him. The contempt was almost palpable, and the click of the door behind him followed by a latch being thrown.

Jim was still dazed, but bit at the air behind Moran in a way that was very reminiscent of how he had bitten the man's lip not too long before.

"I never hurt you," Jim said, gesturing at the cuffed man. "Never once. Never even touched you. And you do this? You're the worst friend."