A/n: This is just something that popped into my head when re-watching the first series of Sherlock. Not sure if someone's written this before, but I do like writing into the history of characters, especially history that is hinted at but not actually shown. As always, I own nothing of the characters, no matter how much I would like to.
Title: Death to Powers
Character focus: Moriarty
What I'm listening to (if you're interested): IDGAF – Breathe Carolina
Laughter rang through the halls, the loudest cackling a deep, rumbling sound. I grimaced, recognising it immediately, not even needing to see his face any more. The trek between Biology and Maths was always much the same. The classrooms were on opposite sides of the school, and in between, I was a perfect target for anyone who wished for target practice.
I was short, lithe in my build; I didn't really have the sort of frame designed for fighting back. At least, not physically. Verbally, I could hold my own, and hold it well.
As for the laughter, its source was Powers. Carl Powers. He was a horrendous boy: tall, stocky, and popular. The subtle fame he had gained from his swimming had quickly gone to his head and anyone that he had deemed unworthy of his presence was quickly made aware of this, whether it was through words or through actions. With me, he did both. Not for any particular reason beyond the fact that he wanted a reaction. And react I did.
I'm not exactly known for my impulse control. If I want to deck someone, I'll deck him, though I'll probably end up hurting myself more.
Everyone always says to ignore it, because they'll get bored, they'll go away. They'll find someone else. Ignoring things is hard for a genius, especially when you notice everything. The fact that I was small didn't help either.
I could avoid him for as long as I wanted. He'd still find me, he always did. Even if I found somewhere knew to hide out during break and lunch, he still found me. Each and every time.
I was sick of it. Sick of the jibes, the taunts. I felt hollow inside most days. I dreaded going into school, despite the fact I would be seeking the very knowledge that my brain thirsted for. On the outside, I appeared stoic. Practice in a mirror ensured that. I had to, for the sake of my sanity. What was left of it.
I wanted to destroy Carl, though. To tear him apart the way he tore me. To persecute him the way he had me. I wanted him gone and I didn't care how. He just had to disappear.
If you wanna give in, then give in, a voice in the back of my head whispered. Give in to your urges. You want him gone? Make him gone. You know how.
A small smile played over my lips as I deliberated. Chlostridium Bochelidum. Deadly. Virtually untraceable. Perfect. It was beautiful, a symphony of destruction focused around one chaotic note. Just a trace in his medicine. No one would know.