AN: Normal lettering is a normal voice, italics is whispering, bold is screaming, and underlined is an overemphasis on the words.
"Oh come on, you're not that stupid."
"You're lying." I get right up behind him; let my hands hover over his chest as I put my lips to his ear.
"He's alive, Johnny boy, and you're going to help me lure him out." I spin away, gesturing to the room around me. Oh, this was just so joyful. "After all, you really can't be that blind. You had that little campaign, what was it called, oh yes 'I believe in Sherlock' and 'Moriarty was real'. Well I'm here Johnny boy. What do you want to do about it?" He doesn't say anything. "You are so out of it. Even you can't be that stupid." I still get no response from him. "Just talk already!" He flinches.
"What do you want?"
"Oh there's the old Johnny boy Watson, trying to get me to talk, how ridiculously boring of you. Tell me John, do you even go outside anymore?" Ah, there is that shame I've been looking for. It's only taken ages. "Was little Sherlock your reason to live?"
"Shut up."
"Oh, not so friendly, and I thought we were getting on so well." Suddenly I just want to lick every inch of his skin until my tongue's on fire and then I want to run my nails along his skin until he's bleeding. Then it's just him and me waiting in this room for dear old Sherly to show up. I screw my voice up into this high-pitched whine that to me sounds so much like him I'm almost sick. "'Oh no, Sherlock went away and jumped off a roof and I'm all alone. The flats so empty, someone help me I'm drowning in pain.' You are so pathetic." I kneel in front of him again and I run the backs of my nails up his chest, running the tip of my tongue along his ear. "Tell me, did Sherlock ever touch you?"
"Go away."
"Well that's not very nice." It's not and I feel this urge to cry. All I did was kidnap him and tie him to a chair. "Now common Doctor, what do you think is taking dear old Sherly so long, hm?"
"Maybe it's because he's dead."
"Why are you so stupid? How can you not see? Even you have to be able to see something after spending so much time with him." He just looks at me like I'm being the idiot. I whip the knife out of my sleeve and he looks at it in dull horror. "Maybe I can make him come faster…" Oh god, the thing just looks so dangerously delicious and I giggle.
"He's dead Jim."
"Don't call me that!" The blades to his throat and he doesn't move the smart bastard. "Maybe he'll come faster if you scream loud enough." I circle behind him now and his bodies all tense. Ah, the human body is so predictable. At least I have enough presence of mind to stab him in the injured shoulder. "Ew, John, gross, control your bleeding, this is a new suit." It was a new suit and if he got a speck of blood on it I was going to kill him, Sherlock be damned. Instead, I carefully run the sides of the blade along his cheekbones and jaw. As I come to the front, it makes this beautiful picture and I so wished I had a camera. I used one of his sleeves to wipe the rest of the blood off, leaving it on my fingers because it was so deliciously warm. There's a bang a bit down the hall and I start giggling. "Oh, look whose coming Johnny boy!" I punch him in the gut and he just grunts like: 'Oh look at me, I'm so manly.' The door bangs open to reveal Sherlock and I smile as I tip John's chair to the side and he gives a grunt of pain. "Oh, Sherly, what took you so long?"