"I was right."

"You usually are. What about this time?"

"Caring doesn't help."

"And would you like to explain how you came to this conclusion?"

"You know."

"I can guess a bit, not the same thing."


"Sherlock. Tell me."

"I was scared."

"So? So was I. You'd have to be an idiot to not be scared."

"Don't split your infinitives. And that's not what I meant."

"So what did you mean?"


"Blimey, it's like talking to a brick wall. Come on, Sherlock. I'm drugged up almost up to my eyeballs, my brain is certainly not working as well as it could be, so could you just get on with it and tell me before I pass out again."

"I was scared because it was you. Because I… because I care about you."


"But that wasn't the most frightening thing. The most frightening thing was that I thought I wouldn't be able to save you, because I was scared, because it was you."

"Let me get this straight. You were scared because you thought being scared would stop you getting me out."

"I wasn't thinking straight—"

"Which would terrify you, yeah."

"—because I was frightened, because I didn't want you hurt."


"I hate not having control."


"I don't want to care."

"I don't think it works like that."

"Well, how does it work? Since you're the expert. Since you know so much about this caring thing."

"I don't—Sherlock, you've got antisocial personality disorder."


"Not the point at the moment. The point is that you're not used to feeling anything about people, am I right?"

"You know you are."

"Right, so it'll take a while to get used to. But you'll manage. Most people do."

"I'm not most people."

"Definitely not. And Sherlock?"


"If it helps… I care about you, too."

"It doesn't."

Sociopath. Seeing it now.