Title: How they are alike (Spoilers for 2x03!)

Author: JawnI'mBored

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to the BBC and Moffat and Gatiss.

Summary: How are Sherlock and Moriarty alike? Why is the story of Sir Boast-a-lot so fascinating for Moriarty? Why did he kill himself?

A/N: Again, english is not my native language, so please excuse mistakes. / This Idea popped into my head last night and I just had to write it down. Hope you enjoy.

How they are alike

"You need me, or you're nothing. Because we're just alike, you and I.

Except you're boring. You're on the side of the angels."

~oOo~

"Hey, Jim. I... I wanted to ask, if... if you would want to get coffee...?" The dark-haired boy looked up from his book, staring at the blonde girl in front of him. "Let me think about it..." He looked around, his face looking like he was thinking, but even a fool like her could see that he was faking. "..No. I'm sorry, Honey. I've really got better things to do." The girls eyes were filled with water and she turned around, wanting to leave as Jim spoke again. "Wait." The girl stopped and looked back hopefully. "Maybe I do have time for you... Naaah. Boring." He laughed a little, enjoying the feeling of power which ran through him. "You... You're repulsive! How can anybody be so mean?" The girl ran away, her blonde hair flying behind her like liquid gold. Jim cleared his throat, it's been a while since he had last spoken. Nobody ever spoke to him because everyone was either afraid or hated him. He turned his gaze back to his book and focused on his thoughts. Fairy Tales was the title of the book Jim was reading. His favourite story was Sir Boast-a-lot. He found it fascinating how easily Sir Boast-a-lot was destroyed. How he was the hero and how he became the one everybody hated. So easy can one's life be destroyed and that is what Jim's thoughts were. How to destroy someone? How to play with people until they break? He smiled and closed the book. He loves to play games and he loves the feeling he gets when he wins. Because he always wins. And he would do anything to win the game.

~oOo~

"Hey, freak. Principal Collan wants to speak with you." The boy didn't react. His black curls almost covered his thin face and his clothes were too big for him. "Hey! Did you hear me, freak?" Slowly he lifted his head, staring into the other boy's eyes. "Yes, I did hear you. And I also see that you have a date tonight to which your mom said you can't go. I see that you're angry and that you're not as cool and self-confident as you act. In fact, you're a little scared boy who'll beg his mother to let him go on this date, because it's important." For a short moment the boy looked confused but then he turned around, putting his hands into his jeans pockets. "Whatever, freak." The thin boy got up and walked slowly towards the principals office. He knocked and after a short 'Come in.' he opened the door. "Ahh, Sherlock! There you are." Sometimes Sherlock almost forgets his name, because this information seems pretty irrelevant to him, since nobody ever speaks to him. "Sit down, Sherlock." He sat down on the chair and looked at the principal. His suit was hastily buttoned and his hair was messy. The things on the desk marginalised. Suddenly the other door opened and the secretary walked in. "Do you need the papers, Mr. Collan?" Sherlock inspected her and saw that her hair was disarranged and her cheeks were slightly red. Obviously the two of them were having an affair. Not even one minute had passed since Sherlock entered the room but he had already deduced it all. He saw it all like big red signs inside his head and he wondered how anybody couldn't see all this. It must be boring. "No, thank you, Miss Felly." There was a short moment of awkwardness before the secretary left the room. Principal Collan faced Sherlock, who looked down at his hands. "Sherlock, I wanted to talk to you because I have heard from many pupils that you annoy them with your 'stupid deductions' and that they find it creepy. Look, Sherlock I don't know how you do it but it's definitely not good to invade other people's privacy. But I'm sure you don't do that. You just guess, don't you? Probably the others exaggerate." Sherlock sat straight, pulled his head up and focused on Collans face. "Well... I know that you and Miss Felly are having an affair, which should stay secret, because you, sir, are having a wife. I know that Miss Felly don't really like you, she is just searching for an adventure, for a thrill and you just do this because you want to forget your problems at home." Principal Collan didn't respond. At the same day Sherlock was suspended from school. But at the other school, it was all the same. Nobody ever spoke to him because everyone was either afraid or hated him.

~oOo~

They faced each other, drinking their tea. Moriarty had always loved to play games, but this... this was wonderland. The biggest game, he had ever played. Sir Boast-a-lot. Sir Boast-a-lot was easily destroyed by a net of lies. And he, James Moriarty, would destroy Sherlock just like Sir Boast-a-lot was destroyed. By a net of lies. He'd always loved to play with people's minds. It gives him a great sense of pleasure. "You need me, or you're nothing. Because we're just alike, you and I. Except you're boring. You're on the side of the angels." Without Moriarty, Sherlock would be useless. Because every fairy tale needs a good old-fashioned villain. Sherlock looked at him and Moriarty knew that Sherlock understood. He also understood how they were alike. Nobody had liked them, some people were afraid of them but Sherlock was boring. Because Moriarty spent his life on planning how to destroy people and Sherlock spent his life learning how to deduce crimes. And in Moriartys eyes, that makes him boring because he had always liked the villains better. He had never liked Sir Boast-a-lot and he looked forward to write his own fairy tale. To win the game.

~oOo~

"Your friends will die if you don't." He knew Sherlock cares. He knew it at the moment where he met Sherlock for the first time as Jim from IT. The way he acts around John, the way he needs him. "...John?" But John wasn't the only one. He cares about Mrs Hudson too. He knew it as he threw the guy who had hurt her out of the window. And then there's Lestrade. It seems like he just goes there and helps him because he wants to show off but there's more. He wants to help and he cares for Lestrade, even if he wouldn't admit it. Moriarty knows it all. "Not just John. Everyone." He could see the fear in Sherlock's eyes and his body began to tingle as he realised he had almost won.

~oOo~

Sherlock stood on the edge of the roof. He wanted one moment of privacy and Moriarty gave it to him. Because that's what all the villains do. Give them a last moment or let them say their last words. But suddenly he could hear Sherlock laugh. Why is he laughing? He is about to die! Moriarty turned around. "What? What is it?" Sherlock stepped of the edge. "What did I miss?", his voice was angry and he forgot to cover his emotions. Why is he laughing? "You're not going to do it?" Sherlock walked towards him. "So the killers can be called off. There's a recall code or a word or a number." Sherlock began pacing around Moriarty. "I don't have to die... if I've got you." The last words he said in a sing-song voice and then Moriarty was calm again. "Oh.", he said, laughing a bit. He knew it, he won. "You think you can make me stop the order? You think you can make me do that?" His voice was a little bit mocking but Sherlock wasn't affected, he just continued pacing around him. "Yes." - "Sherlock, your big brother and all the king's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to." Sherlock stopped, looking directly into Moriarty's eyes. "Yes, but I'm not my brother, remember?" He stepped closer to Moriarty as he said his next words. "I am you. Prepared to do anything. Prepared to burn. Prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell, I shall not disappoint you. " Inside his head Moriarty laughed. Liar, he thought. He's Sir Boast-a-lot, the guy who helps, the guy, who everybody loves. "Nah. You talk big. Nah. You're ordinary. You're ordinary, you're on the side of the angels." This conversation was totally unnecessary and it was wasting Moriarty's time. But he stayed calm because he knew he'd already won. "I may be on the side of the angels but don't think for one second that I am one of them." Liar. You are Sherlock, you just won't accept it. All this was pointless and Moriarty realised that there wasn't going to be a winner. He had to do something. His face turned abstracted and somehow satisfied. "No... You're not." Moriarty was just playing the game. He blinked a few times and then he smiled. "I see. You're not ordinary. No... You're me." He could see the confusion in Sherlock's eyes and the satisfaction because he thought he'd beat Moriarty. "Thank you... Sherlock Holmes. Bless you." He shook Sherlock's hand. "As long as I'm alive, you can save your friends. You got a way out. Well, good luck with that." He let go of Sherlock's hand, pulling a gun out of his jacket. The last thing he thought as he pulled the trigger was 'I won.' Because that was all that matters to him. Winning. And he would do anything to win the game, even if that means dying.

~oOo~ The End ~oOo~

A/N: What do you think about it? Please R&R, I would be happy. :)