You're a horrible person. You can't help it—you try to be 'good' but nothing works. Eventually you hurt the people closest to you. Always. Every single time.

And it hurts you, too. Sometimes you think you care too much—the world around you has so much suffering, and everyone seems to float through it, oblivious—but not you. You see it, all of it—and more than that, you feel it.

It hurts.

And you—you are a horrible person. Always different—always driving people away.

It would be nice not to care, wouldn't it? It would be nice to be a sociopath. If you were, you might be even more horrible—but you wouldn't care.

You wouldn't care. You wouldn't be hurt. You wouldn't care when you hurt other people.

People expect too much of you—always have. You're brilliant, but the whole people thing has never worked out. You tried, you failed.

Fact: you don't like failing.

You're different. Everyone knows that. So you find yourself a nice little label—one to hide behind.

Sociopath. They might hate you, fear you, but they won't be hurt by you—after all, they'll expect it.

'I'm a horrible person' the tag says. 'I don't care.'

And you don't. Of course you don't. You don't care about anything.

You even come to believe it. Almost.

But then he comes—a man who refuses to look at the tag and pass judgment. A man who believes you are worth something.

It's amazing.

And it hurts.

Because you know you will hurt him—you always do—and when you do, he'll leave, like they all did.

Always.

There are no heroes in this world. If there were, you wouldn't be one of them.

It still hurts when he finds out who you really are.

He leaves.

They always do.

You don't think he'll ever come back.

But then he does.

And Moriarty…the real sociopath…he knows you're only pretending.

He knows where your heart lies; he knows exactly how to use it.

He knows how to defeat you—by hurting you.

By making you hurt them.

You have to defeat him, even if you hurt everyone. You have to defeat them, even if you have to leave.

And never come back.

You have to, to save them.

You know you are a horrible person, yet still, you always try to do good—as if somehow, doing good could change you.

But you will never be one of the angels, though you side with them.

You tell yourself you don't care.