Psychopaths Can't Love

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Trigger Warning: Depression, mentions of self harm, and PTSD

Seb stood alone in the elevator, rocking back and forth on his feet and waiting impatiently for it to reach his floor. He couldn't stop thinking about Moriarty.

Why did he he suddenly care so much? He never cared about anyone and hadn't since before Iraq when he realized it wouldn't help save anyone he wanted to care about. Even after Iraq, he had become isolated to keep from accidentally hurting someone he loved.

He hadn't seen his family in years, not since he'd briefly returned because of his discharge "for his physical health." That's what the letter had said. Seb was sure that his commander had just pitied him, or as Seb had overheard, "I don't want him to have to have to survive in this hellhole. If he's going to die, he should be home with his family when he does."

Seb had recovered from his fits of projectile vomiting and dizziness and moved out of his parents' house. He never reapplied for the army, however much he missed it. He knew he wouldn't be able to stomach being back with all of the blood and the PTSD.

Seb sighed, staring blankly at the elevator's warning label. To his surprise, the elevator stopped its descent before it reached Seb's floor. The doors slid open, welcoming in none other than Moriarty.

Seb's stomach dropped, and he swallowed heavily.

He was about to ask for the floor Moriarty wanted to get to, but Moriarty spoke first.

"Same floor as you."

Seb nodded. He bit his tongue, not wanting to say anything he might regret later. His imagination began racing, thinking about everything that could happen.

What if Moriarty kissed him? Even better; what if Moriarty pinned him against the wall and kissed him? Maybe Moriarty would hold his arms above him and nip softly at his neck...

Seb bit his lip, trying to suppress these thoughts. But it wasn't working.

He glanced over at Moriarty, who was looking straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with Seb. Seb immediately looked away, feeling his face go warm. God, he was such an idiot.

The elevator came to a stop at the first floor, and Moriarty walked out quicker than Seb would've thought possible for someone so small.

They both walked through the quiet lobby toward the front door. Moriarty got to the door first and called the first cab that came. Seb began to walk around the building to where his motorcycle was parked. As he walked, he reached into his pocket for his chapstick. He felt a piece of paper instead. He pulled it out.

It was a bit of torn notebook paper with words in red ink. It was clearly quickly-written. "Your pupils are dilated." Seb almost stopped where he stood. Who had left him that? He glanced at the signature. "JM xx" Moriarty? Oh God. He knew.

Wait. It might not be Moriarty. Seb didn't even know if Moriarty's first name started with a J. But who else could've left that there?

Seb tried his best to discard his thoughts as he rode home. He didn't care about Moriarty and couldn't. He was an idiot for even thinking Moriarty would kiss him.

Well now he felt like shit. Just like always.

~