Sherlock's thoughts during a scene near the end of The Great Game
The Ruse
Surely it had been too good to be true. No one could be as reassuringly loyal and stupid (but with so much potential—and smart enough to appreciate Sherlock's genius!), and be true.
I've been far too trusting.
It had been a trick, all of it. John had been toying with him. Laughing at him. The gentle voice—the old woman he had shot—oh, clever John, clever—pretending indignant grief over the loss of life. Why, he was a genius—had to be—had to be—
To do this to Sherlock.
Make me trust you, make me care about you. Try to teach you little tricks so you can play the game—"You know my methods, apply them!" Only you were playing a different game. Oh, clever John, clever clever John.
It was you all along.
It was almost a relief when John Watson ripped open his jacket, and Sherlock saw the bomb.