John's eyes were cold when he watched Sherlock.
"You know…" John's words were cold and emotionless. "All what I needed… was one thing what you gave me. A purpose. Did you know back then how close call it was that we met? That morning… that was bad day. Very bad day. No, don't say a word. Yes, you saved me Sherlock and maybe you never realized it how much I owned to you and how much I begun to need you. Our friendship was everything to me. You were the only one who I trusted with my life. After my teenage I have never trust anyone. Not like that I trusted you. We build up something special, and then you broke it down. Burned it to the ground. You left me behind. "
"John…"
"I know! You just told me why. But you let me watch how you died and you left me behind!"
John's anger made everyone flinch and step back, even Sherlock. It was slap on the cheek. Harder than any hit. And John couldn't stop there and then. When he continued his voice was quieter, there was sadness.
"How I can trust you ever again? The only one who I have ever trusted. You, moving in the shadows, and you let me mourn over you, and I though that…"
"I wanted to tell… Let you know…"
"Silence." John hissed. "You tore it down, my soul, my heart."
Now John stepped back, straightening himself, pushing again away his emotions. "Once when you said come, I came. When you lied, I believed. I was a soldier on your chessboard, willingly. You struck me down when I showed my loyalty to you. You build me, new me; you brought out life from me when I was dying inside. But you let me down, when you fell. And I took my turn. And you lost your rights over me."
"Please, John…"
But John has turned his back and walked away.
