Loneliness is cold and confusing.

Shame is hot and sickening.

Loss is empty.

Heartbreak is a deep, burning agony that never stops.

Fear and unknowing sit heavy in the chest, like lead weights.

Devastation is torture.

But physical pain ends.

Physical pain is sharp and focussed, warm and cool, a welcome distraction. It is controlled, and then it ends.

It can bring a smile to the lips, even as it brings a wince and a sharp breath sucked in through the teeth.

It is expected.

Wanted.

Needed.

And the best part?

Crying is optional.

"Now of course, I know all this must be so hard for you, hm?" Moriarty pouted in heavy mock concern, batting his eyes at him. "I bet you think about it every single day. Every second of every minute... Except when you've distracted yourself with one of those silly little games. Cases. They always end, Sherlock. And so will you."

He pushed himself up lazily and sauntered across the room toward him. "I know why you do it. It's the control, isn't it? Gives you a high. But that high always ends, and isn't it so much worse afterward, when you realise all you've got is pain to mask pain? Hm? Don't you just feel so silly? I would if I were you." Moriarty smiled at him with wide eyes, twirling a finger at his own temple.

He brushed past him through the doorway and out into the dark hall, brushing his jacket off. "You know, Sherlock, I'm disappointed. I expected soooo much more from you, I really did. But I suppose you're only human, too... You're ordinary. You're no better than a flighty schoolgirl. And not much smarter, either, considering you've come here to meet me even though you knew what I'd do. Pathetic..."

Sherlock's jaw clenched so hard he thought his teeth would crack. "You're predictable. You think I would be afraid of you? I have better things to think about."

"And yet you did come... Makes me wonder, you know? Maybe you wanted it."

"You can't end me... And you don't want to." Sherlock's eyes flicked back to the dark shape in the hallway, shutting down systems all over his brain in order to just keep that fragile sliver of cool.

That tiny defence.

The shadow turned and looked at him, smiling. "No, I don't want to. I want you to." "

You want me to commit suicide... again." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Really... I did think you would be at least a little more imaginative than that. I'm disappointed."

"Oh..." Those eyes glinted in the dimness, looking straight at him. "I don't just want you to pretend to die. This time... I'm tired of your acts. It'll be easier this time, won't it? Now that you've had a practice run and everything. I got all dressed up and everything, see?"

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "The blades are for me... and yet you brought a gun."

"Well, you know, I've never been a fan of those sharp things. I find they just kind of... hurt."

The last pin dropped inside Sherlock's skull.

The last puzzle piece snapped into place on an all black tabletop, and he paused. "...You don't want to be rid of me."

Moriarty laughed harshly, and came closer again, facing him. "No. I don't need to get rid of you."

"There'd be no point... You just want someone to die with."

"Fabulous deduction, I'm impressed! And it only took you THREE YEARS, DOOFUS!" Moriarty lunged toward him, spitting the words in his face like hot coals that burned his skin like nothing physical ever could.

He'd been blind.

He'd been stupid...

Slow...

Defective...

Worthless.

Sherlock swallowed the bitter taste that was rising in his throat and focussed on just keeping his spine straight. "You... What do you have to be suicidal over?"

"Nothing! That's the point! I'm bored, Sherlock... Just staying alive... It's so dull. Just staying. But this-this is something interesting. I get to toy with you, which is always fun, and then I'll never be bored again. Simple."

Sherlock silently mouthed those words, 'never be bored again.' The thought had crossed his mind before. It had always been a little unnerving, just how attractive it had seemed to him.

To never be bored.

To never be anything.

No loneliness, no loss, no shame, no fear...

Just... death.

Because pain always ends.