Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the story. They are the property of Elementary, based on the original work of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Do leave a comment if my work remotely interests you. Constructive criticism is thoroughly appreciated. :) Hope you enjoy.

Jamie's POV

The first shot to the top of the elevator was followed by four more. Then nothing, but silence. Jamie slowly let go of the air she had been holding in. She glanced at Sherlock, poorly attempting at disguising his evident panic. They were aware that it didn't take a genius to override the emergency halt, even by mundane standards.

There had been some truth to what Sherlock had said earlier, she had in fact written to him with the intent of utilizing him in a way or another. But that was not why she had continued. Jamie had once told Sherlock that she saw and felt everything that he did and she hadn't been lying. There was no one being on this planet that she had ever empathized with, no one except her who had understood the world for what it truly was, at least not until she met Sherlock. Prison had begun to dull her senses and so she had reflected on thoughts reserved only for when she was in leisure. Thoughts that she shared with Sherlock, a man who had changed quite a bit from back when she was Irene, through letters.

With his eyes shut and head up against the metal, Sherlock spoke."I had no intention of writing back to you Jamie, non initially. And who can blame me really, you or rather "Irene" was the only woman I ever forged an emotional tether to or so I believed at the time, the only one who compelled me to reexamine my existing convictions. You were my first addiction. Your failure to predict my descent into drug addiction was the result of you underestimating the profoundness of my former. And one instant you were dead, then you were not. "

That was rather abrupt and honest, for a change. "So, guilt then? For the part you played in my arrest." She asked. Looking right at her now, he said, "After you revealed yourself to me that day, there was not an iota of doubt in my mind on what was the right thing to do. So, no it wasn't remorse."

"What then?"

After a moment, he said, "Addiction is tricky Jamie. For example a man who hasn't smoked in 15 years, spends 15 seconds in an elevator with a man smoking a cigarette. He gives in. Its why I wrote to you, against my better judgment. Its, its why I came here without a second thought. It's a problem, one I have solved before. I'll just have to find a fix again."

She said nothing, just stared back into his eyes that were so conflicted and distraught. Perhaps it was the prospect of them dieing together in here, regardless Jamie understood that it was no ordinary feat, for a man of Sherlock's ego, to make such an admission. Even as Irene she could recount only a handful of moments where he had willingly granted her a glimpse into the other side of the veil that was his vulnerability. Yet again Sherlock Holmes had surprised her.