AN: Hi. Rose here with a oneshot. As if you needed another reason to think me insane, I've based this story on a song only certain totally awesome people will understand.
"Sherlock, we need to talk about this," John said. "This is the third time this week you've said something wrong to her!"
"I don't see what the problem is," Sherlock scoffed.
"The problem is the way you treat people. Not just Molly, either. But everyone. You act like you don't care!"
"Because I don't," Sherlock replied simply. "And I don't see what I did that was so wrong."
"Let's have a flashback, shall we?" John asked.
o.O.o
"So have you found anything?" Molly asked as Sherlock pored over his work. She wasn't sure what kind of case he was working on today. She never was, come to think of it.
"No," he said, not quite paying attention to the scene around him. "Has to be something," he muttered to himself. "John. Get me the other sample."
"What's the magic word?" John spoke to his companion as if he were a small child.
"Abracadabra," Sherlock replied sarcastically.
"I think he meant, please?" Molly practically stuttered.
Sherlock turned his head slowly to her. "Don't you think I knew what he meant? Do you consider me incompetent? Molly! These so-called 'social norms' and pleasantries are for those who wish to waste time with the exchange of even more unnecessary pleasantries. It's stupid, pointless, and a waste of time, which is obviously why the incompetently ruled human race wastes its time with them, and why I do not."
"It's called being polite, actually," Molly replied, gritting her teeth. "And it's neither stupid, nor pointless. It's what lets others know you're a person to be trusted, and more so, to be befriended."
"What do I care about trust and friendship?" Sherlock tried to keep his uncaring attitude, but he knew the answers to these questions already.
"Oh, I don't know Sherlock. I thought I was your friend. What about Lestrade? Mrs. Hudson? Or how about John? I know for a fact you jumped off a fucking building for them!" Molly spat out. "Oh, and speaking of that, might I add that if you were a little easier to trust, that would have never happened! You wouldn't have had to do that; no one would have believed the press! That's why you need them, Sherlock!" she finished before storming out of the room.
The two men sat in silence for a moment, both shocked by sweet little Molly's outburst. Neither of them were used to her standing up for herself so much. Finally, Sherlock cleared his throat. "John, where's that other sample?"
o.O.o
"You made Molly yell!" John shouted. "She doesn't yell."
"Obvious."
"If she's reached that point, because of you, there's a problem. The girl loves you! She loves you, Sherlock! And you keep infuriating her because you're too stupid to figure that out."
"I never asked her to love me."
"Well she does anyway."
"I already know she does. But I'm a robot with a heart made of steel and one purpose. I can't love her, so I don't see the point of sugar-coating everything I say to her. I can't love anyone, let alone her. It gets in the way of my one purpose, which is to use my brain to figure out when others aren't using theirs. That's all I'm good for. Why would she want me to love her? Why would anyone?"
John hesitated before asking, "Do you really believe that? Listen. When you say you can't love anyone, and that you don't, well, I don't believe you. When you say you're heart is made of steel, well…that I can believe. But you know as well as I do that steel is strong."
"I never said it wasn't—"
"And if you're like you said, a meaningless slave, a robot, in your words, well…what's the meaning of what I—erm…she feels for you? You know you're the reason she…hell, even I…feel that way."
Sherlock started. He never knew John felt that way.
John sighed before continuing. "I might not be as smart as you, but I know how people think. They say they're fine when I know they're not. And as for you, you don't know yourself the way I do, either."
John waited for Sherlock to say something, anything. At this point, he's be ready for yet another scolding on how love is a dangerous disadvantage on superiors like him, and then be sent to his room to think about what he said.
"Humans are all weak and stupid and would be better off dead," he began. "They're all disgraces to what the human race should be, as well as any logical science and law." He paused, and turned away. "But for some reason, when you look at me, talk to me, I don't want to be…be almost…'programmed' this way. You're an anomaly, John, the only one. You're right, too, you're not as smart as me. I never thought I'd even be friends with someone so ordinary and boring, but—I'm starting to make a breakthrough. And as for you, too…you don't know yourself the way I do."
"I never expected to find someone like you," John said.
"My mind is usually protected from abnormal feelings like this," Sherlock added, and it seemed the two weren't even speaking to each other anymore. "When you know everything, it's very strange when you suddenly don't have a clue."
"I don't know much of anything—compared to you—but you're giving me a clue," John added.
"I can see past your dull exterior, finding the worth that is beneath your boring life purpose," Sherlock said.
"All of a sudden I feel like I've run into something only us can see," John said.
"We," Sherlock corrected with a smirk. "Only we can see."