He really isn't a sociopath, you know.
Not in the sense of- hey, his symptoms are more of someone autistic, not sociopathic- not that way. But in the way of- he DOES feel, even when he tries not to.
Even when he says he can't.
I'm a shy girl. I'm not popular, but I have friends. I don't have many romantic relationships, much less sexual ones. For the most part I stay quiet, and mind my own business. I don't 'catch people's eye'. I never do. I'm used to it. I don't mind knowing it either.
So why on God's green earth did I catch HIS?
Even now, I look back and wonder at all of it. Yes, he's told me what he saw in me, but it's still so… unbelievable. But I don't think he lied to me about it. I refuse to believe he ever lied to me- at least without a reason… I think I was one of the few he trusted with everything.
Even his life.
I was at University, an intern at the St. Bart's morgue. Needless to say, it is quite unsettling to walk into a half dark room and see a tall mysterious man beating a poor corpse with a riding crop. He'd stopped, given me a crooked half smile, and said:
"Coffee please. Molly knows what I like."
He then continued with the beating. I'm pretty sure I was so shocked that I just did what he asked, not even hesitating. I like to think I reacted rather well… Molly told me all about him. Sociopathic, lonely drug abuser turned sociopathic, lonely consulting detective.
Well that was new.
Many events have transpired since then, many that I am not proud of. Secrets that should not have been kept, lies that should not have been told, and love that should not have existed. Sometimes I wonder if it ever DID exist.
This, my dear readers, is a well-known story by now. The press has had a field day with it, haven't they?
"The Woman Who Broke Sherlock Holmes"
Not a very pleasant title to own, I assure you. But, before you roll your eyes and write me off, please. Just LISTEN for a bit. You may discover some things you've never dreamed.
So.
Let's start from the beginning, shall we?