The boy stared right back at John with a certain coldness that the man thought he was used to by now. There was an edge to this, a deep iciness that came with solitude, and John only hoped that he could fix it. He'd stopped deluding himself into thinking he could save absolutely everyone a long time ago.
John looked the boy over- dark curled hair and gray eyes, with a confident hand on the armrest of the sofa- before he opened his mouth to initiate conversation. The boy stopped him.
"Don't ask me to introduce myself," he said stiffly- his voice was deeper than John had been expecting- "You have my files."
"You don't think there's anything to add?" John asked.
The boy met his gaze evenly. John could see it being intimidating- he'd met others who had those same dark glares, kids who'd gotten into fights and hurt people, hurt themselves. But there was an air to this, and an intelligent scrutiny that John had never really felt before. The boy had a look that was intimidating in a way that made John feel inadequate and stupid. It was strange.
"There's nothing I want to add," he muttered. "It's unnecessary."
John sat back and clasped his hands over his clipboard. He always took notes- he needed them to keep track of all of his clients- but this was different. This was like that first case somehow, although John didn't realize this until it was too late.
"You think this session is unnecessary or you are unnecessary?" he asked.
The boy's gaze did not waver. For a long time, they stared at each other in silence, calculating, evaluating, judging. He never answered the question.
"You're sacrificing a lot of things for her."
John frowned. "What?"
But the boy's eyes passed right over John's face and scanned his desk. "You care about her, so you're going to keep pretending that you like it here." His eyes returned to John's, but it was as if he was looking through the doctor, rather than at him. "You don't know if you've made the right choice and it terrifies you."
Silence. Then, "How did you know all that?"
The boy looked away again, and when he spoke, his voice was so much smaller, so much less confident and almost ashamed. It was almost afraid.
"I didn't know," Sherlock said, "I saw."