Panic slowly started seeping in. My hands were shaking. Every noise around me became ten times louder. I was now officially under cover. After months of research on this man I couldn't help but feel bad about betraying him. I wanted to help him. If I could get him to change, I wouldn't have to turn him in. He gave me a job where I would be under his surveillance. Due to my ever increasing knowledge of his secrets, he had to make sure none of them got out. I was walking home when a thought hit me like a brick. If he didn't want his secrets to get out, then why didn't he just kill me? He definitely had other people who could do my job, so that leaves only one explanation. He knows that I'm under cover. If he got me to become a criminal, and completely desert my sense of morality, he could use me as a tool to get more power for his empire. The only thing I was to him, was information. I would have to change that.
I had to change him first though. This was going to be complicated, very complicated. I finally made it to my apartment, and I decided to do some internet surfing. I had a bad habit of staying up till about 2am then falling asleep with earbuds and my favorite song turned up as loud as it would go. Nowadays that was the only way I could get myself to fall asleep. Then there were the nightmares. It was always the same thing. I was abducted by something I couldn't see, something I couldn't explain. And I was always only half asleep, so when I reached for my gun, I was confused when I grabbed nothing. I forgot what I was looking for, and I was struggling to decipher reality from fantasy. I was freaking out when I saw the abductee's face. It was so clear, and it was just as frightening every time. I recognized his face just before I woke up sweating. The man that I murdered haunted my dreams every night. And I could never get away from it.
The only reason I was assigned this case was so that I could redeem myself, or die trying. The man that I killed, was on the good side. In my defense, his death was an accident, but that doesn't fix anything. The morning finally arrived and I had no idea what I was going to do. I couldn't just walk up to Jim and say,"Oh hi I just wanted to tell you that I know what your agenda is, and I need you to turn good so that I don't have to turn you in and feel like a bad guy." I had to be smart about all this. For all I knew he could just be waiting for the right time to kill me. The bad thing about working a job like this is that it is easy to be manipulated if you aren't careful. You can't trust anyone and you are always checking your six. I needed to find a way to make him trust me. I sat down, and put some waffles in my toaster when I thought of the perfect plan.

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You can't "fix" a Psychopath
FanfictionNo matter how many times you tell yourself you can change him. You can't. There is nothing left in this world, that can help Jim Moriarty.