All My Loving (teen!lock Johnlock/Mystrade)

Chapter Forty

(A/N- So I full on cried writing this chapter, and I don't cry very often. Erm, so yeah, it's pretty sad, and if you don't want to read it, you don't have to. It's really just an insight into Moriarty's background; why he does what he does. Please comment/vote/share/follow, I really appreciate it. Thanks, Lovelies!

-CHxx)

Chapter 40

Tom's POV

I sat beside Moriarty on his private jet. He seemed excited, and I myself was nervous. Someone invited Sherlock and John to my leaving party, so now they knew what was happening. I didn't dare tell Moriarty that though. An image of him throwing me out the door of his jet crossed my mind and I shuddered.

"You alright?" Moriarty asked, placing his hand on top of mine. I jumped slightly, but soon relaxed. His hand was actually surprisingly warm, not cold like I had imagined. I supposed it just showed he was still human after all. 

He wore a white t-shirt and black jeans, and he actually looked slightly normal. He was listening to music through headphones, but I could hear the soft piano music playing. I drummed my fingers against my leg and hummed a random tune. Moriarty still had his hand over my other one. 

I looked out the window, unsure of whether or not I should be concerned. I decided not to be. I was overcome with anger, honestly. I poured my heart and soul into loving Charlie, I rejected girls and guys alike for him while he was away, all to find out he loved another. What position did that leave me in? Not a very bloody good one, I'll tell you that much.

"You didn't really love him," Moriarty said suddenly.

"What?"

"I said, you didn't really love him. If you could turn bitter against him so easily, then it wasn't love. When you truly love someone, you can't stay mad at them for long, and their happiness means more to you than you could ever imagine. You wouldn't team up with a criminal in order to get your revenge, because when you're in love, you'd hurt yourself before you'd hurt your love."

"Oh really? And what would you of all people know about love?" I raised my eyebrow at the criminal.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Excuse me." He moved his hand away, stood up, and walked off to the loo down at the end of the jet. 

I frowned in thought. That was rather wise, but what did he know? He was a psychopath, who probably never loved anyone in his entire life. I decided to pester him about it when he returned anyway. 

He took his time about it, and when he returned, he forced a small smile to his face. 

"Okay, no, I'm curious now. Who have you ever loved who could've given you such an insight?"

"What's it to you?" Moriarty cocked his head to the side as he regarded me. 

"I'm curious. I didn't know you were capable of loving, Moriarty."

He sighed. "I am. Well, I was. There was a time when I wasn't like... This. His name was Michael. He was gorgeous. Black hair that naturally stood up, a gorgeous, bright smile that lit up my world, the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen, and a laugh that melted my heart. He was my everything, and I loved him, well, love him, more than words can explain. It was true love, and I was obsessed with him, and him with me. I gave him all I had, and vice versa.

"But then we got into trouble. We were coming back from the movie theatres when a couple of guys appeared out of the shadows, calling us names. They asked what a couple of queers were doing on the streets at night, and didn't we know that queens shouldn't be in the rough side of town?

"Neither Michael or I said anything, we just tried to walk away, but that aggravated them more. They came over, hit Michael over the head, and pushed me to the ground. I was left with a concussion, and Michael was dead. Severe brain damage that killed him on the spot. They continued kicking him and hitting him, even while he was in a pool of his own blood. I got up, bet the shit out of them and carried Michael to the nearest hospital. I didn't know until then that he had gone, and with him went my whole world. I later found out that I had killed those guys, and I couldn't care less.

"I went into depression. I wouldn't eat, couldn't sleep, I couldn't do anything. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Michael standing there, throwing his head back, laughing heartily as I told him some stupid joke. Whenever I opened my eyes I was faced once again by the haunting reality that my whole world was gone, and it didn't matter how much I had, if I didn't have Michael, I didn't have anything. Until I continued killing people. 

"I wanted to see others suffer as much as I did. I wanted them to feel the sorrow and pain that I felt. I couldn't be happy anymore, not without Michael, so I wanted everyone else to be the same. Michael was the only one who accepted me as I was, in fact, he loved me even more because I was different. No one else would accept me, so I made them fear me instead. So before you go thinking I don't do the things I do without a reason, that I am heartless and have never felt pain, remember that I once loved, only to have it all taken away from me in an instant."

I had tears in my eyes as I heard all that. I couldn't believe it. I never would've guessed it. Moriarty always looked so in control, his eyes always so blank and cold that the sorrow was unrecognisable. "Moriarty... Jim, I'm so sorry."

He shook his head. "Nah," he was back to his old self. "Don't worry about it."

He got up again and walked off, leaving me there alone to think. I knew it wasn't alright. I knew he was right though, I didn't really love Charlie. But wasn't that why I was there? I didn't really love Charlie, therefore I had no reason to be turning him in. But Moriarty... I was torn. I couldn't choose. Would I warn Charlie and Dimitri that we were coming, or did I help Moriarty?