A/N: This is a tad too short to be a one-shot, and too long to be a drabble. I like to think about how Sherlock's brain works, and from that arose this drabbly one-shot sort of… thing. Hey, nice things can arise from a boring New Year's Eve when you should be doing homework while waiting for midnight.

Oh yes. I don't own Sherlock. The Sherlock I'm writing about is owned by the BBC.

There are two Sherlocks, always have been. The man called Sherlock Holmes has known this forever, from the time that he was young (Mycroft teaching him to read in his high chair, newspapers spread over his bedroom floor, the silver notebook where he wrote down his evidence). His personality split is not foreign to him; he deduces that it is self-induced from a young age (psychology books lay open on the rug; Mycroft knows what he's up to). Sherlock Holmes is nothing if not observant. Absolutely nothing.

There is SHERLOCK (everyone sees, knows this one) who is tall and strong and perceptive. Terribly brilliant, they whisper, awfully brilliant but cracked. Just by looking, he can tell who did it (it takes the fun out) and how, yet oftentimes he can't figure out why (always the why, like an itch he can't scratch). This is why SHERLOCK calls himself a high-functioning sociopath. It is a pithy remark with a grain of truth (he excels in those).

SHERLOCK is cold. His sharp eyes (gray, blue, like twin hurricanes) can pierce you to the bone, and they often do. SHERLOCK remains detached. Detached and floating in the world of his own perception. He is self-interested, and interested in his case. That is all. The tall man always knows how, what, when, where. SHERLOCK shines brighter than other people, and he knows it (they hate him, taunt him, knock him down and break his nose in the back alley after school).

SHERLOCK inhabits most of the brain of Sherlock Holmes. SHERLOCK has taken over. SHERLOCK always knows what to do. SHERLOCK is the world's only consulting detective. SHERLOCK is logic, pure logic. SHERLOCK sees no good in the world, no good but the latest body, the latest case, the latest distraction from sherlock.

sherlock is different. sherlock is an undercurrent in Holmes's mind. He is warm and angry and instinctive (Mycroft's jaw giving way under his flying fist). This part of Sherlock Holmes does not know everything (he never knew anything anyway, he never really deletes anything from his mind, he just forgets things sometimes and it scares him). sherlock is an animal of need, anger, hunger, fear. But sherlock also controls love and empathy (this scares him too- sherlock's abandon of logic has scared him since he was young). sherlock is passion, plain and simple.

Sherlock Holmes can't forget the last time sherlock was left out in the open. sherlock belongs in the dark (dark alleys, money changing hands, all for the cool needle leading to cooler nothingness). This part of Sherlock Holmes doesn't ever need to be allowed to control his actions. (too much, too much… dark swallowing him up, with immediate relief) He had been at his worst then, he knew. (Mycroft's old face looming over him in hospital, weeks recovering, NO MORE DRUGS, NO MORE SMOKING, stuck to nicotine patches and mysteries)

sherlock needs things. SHERLOCK hates need. Sherlock Holmes has separated these two people into different parts of his being. But SHERLOCK is always at the forefront. SHERLOCK is the brilliant, cold man everyone sees as completely unreachable, untouchable, unlovable and snarky. And he is. SHERLOCK is all those things and more. But sherlock craves companionship.

Perhaps that's why he was so eager to get a flatmate (especially one so awfully special as John- that's the only word to describe how he is to Sherlock). He supposed a glimpse of sherlock was shining through SHERLOCK's hard exterior, like a single star in unfathomable dark.