Some things never change. Bad things, like the way Augments still haunt John's dreams weekly, and good things, like the way Sherlock will stay up with John when this happens.

Some things do change: the way Sherlock has, after John's nightmares, started sleeping in John's room, first on the floor, which he says he doesn't mind, and later in the bed. They haven't gotten beyond just sleeping yet, but John still has hope yet.

He still doesn't quite understand Sherlock. The man can be infuriating at times, utterly oblivious to the feelings of others, including John, and yet go back to 221B and become so completely in touch with what John needs, which he proves when John becomes sick for the first time in years, and neglects a case (case!) in order to be with him.

At least Sherlock's stopped experimenting on John.

Baskerville has started to intrude in John's nightmares, however, along with Moriarty. He doubts that there is any connection between the Augments and the genetic experimentation at the Baskerville labs, but they made him uneasy whilst he was there and still remind him of his father's stories when he remembers the HOUND case.

=-o

John was in his early teens when the Eugenics Wars began. His father, a strong opponent of genetic experimentation, had raised him with the same beliefs as him: that genetic manipulation was wrong, immoral, and ungodly. Though his parents' Catholic beliefs never truly took hold in him, John has always agreed with their genetic engineering views.

When the Augments took over, it only solidified this view, and both of the Watson parents fought with everything they had in order to take down the regime.

The Eugenics Wars ended with the human dissidents victorious, but John had lost a parent by then. Vera Watson had been killed by an Augment in one of the first battles.

John remembered this only for a few years, until Operation Tabula Rasa swept away his memories of the Wars. He was one of the first targeted because of his proximity to his father, and by 2001, the drugs that Tabula Rasa had exposed him to had made his entire time as a teenager hazy. Under Tabula Rasa's influence, he'd even believed that he'd fought with his father years ago, and refused to speak with him.

The next year, however, Henry Watson had come back to tell John the truth, and it hadn't taken much to unblock the memories that had been suppressed.

John blames much of the tragedy and loss in his life on the influence of the Augments and the scientists who created them. He still does today, but the bitterness is no longer as wanted, as needed, as it used to be.

These days, however, John is a new man.

John knows now that he is almost ready to tell Sherlock everything. And if the missing eighty-four Augments are still on Earth, well, who knows? Maybe it will be their next case.

A new man… He has a brilliant flatmate – a brilliant friend –, a wonderful life in solving London's mysteries, and nothing can be ruined by the Augments now.

o-=

Sherlock tips his head back and yawns slowly, watching John out of the corner of his eye.

He's never been in a truly romantic relationship ever, unless his little stint with Victor counted, but that was in uni, and though it wasn't exactly a one-night stand, he doesn't think that it qualified as a romance.

Sherlock's never thought of himself as the kind of man to fall in love, and he's still not sure if this is that.

He's slept with women – and men –, but those times had always been strictly in the interest of gathering information. He's never felt any real attraction.

It was always clinical, cold – at least in his mind. He'd never allow the other to feel that the relationship was anything but real.

So this is new, he supposes. View it as an experiment, and maybe something will come of it.

He wants to laugh. He isn't even convincing himself.

Sherlock turns his attention to John, who is reading today's newspaper in his chair, opposite of Sherlock. The front page says something about some new piece of legislation that Parliament has been playing with, but Sherlock's more interested in the man behind the paper.

The first glance at his face tells Sherlock that John's been out with his latest girlfriend – Lisa, he thinks, but he'd never saved her name so he's not entirely sure –, ate at Angelo's but argued with the girl at the end… earlier went to the bank but forgot his card. Altogether not in a very pleasant mood.

=-o

Sherlock's been able to read people since childhood. He perfected the skill before he was a teenager, but he'd always assumed, up until he'd stopped living with Mummy and Mycroft, that it was an ability anyone could teach themselves if they started early enough.

After he'd left his family, he'd become more curious about his father and, after quite a bit of digging, including a period of sneaking around Tabula Rasa Headquarters, he'd uncovered the truth of his origins.

When he'd learned that the man who he vaguely remembered coming to his home in 1991 was his father, and, more specifically, who he was, he'd turned to drugs, because he'd known of Khan Noonien Singh, the Augment, before he'd known of his father.

It was one of the few things Sherlock has ever regretted doing in his life.

o-=

John's closed up the newspaper. Sherlock watches him as he walks out the doorway to the stairs.

Sherlock doesn't predict any nightmares tonight, so he won't have an excuse to sleep in John's room. He wonders if John feels toward him the way he feels toward John. From his deductions, he'd guess this is so, but as John has reminded him constantly, some things cannot be deduced, the state of the heart included.

Sherlock watches John's retreating back, headed towards the bedroom upstairs.

Regardless of either of their feelings, Sherlock decides, he isn't going to enter into a true relationship until John knows the truth of his heritage, and the reality of the events of the nineties. After all, he can't accept that Mycroft's Tabula Rasa will keep John from knowing the truth. Hopefully he won't take it too badly.

He resolves to tell John soon, maybe as soon as he finishes the missing waterfall painting case.

=-o

Unfortunately, before Sherlock can find a suitable time to tell John his secret, outside events intervene.

A few days later, Sherlock retrieves the Reichenbach Falls painting, and within days, he is swamped with new cases, new fans, for god's sake, and plenty of those idiotic reporters who seem to think that the only article of clothing that he wears is a ridiculous-looking hat.

John thinks it's funny, which alleviates a little of the stupidity, but Sherlock'd never meant to become a media sensation.

This, unfortunately, doesn't keep him from enjoying it, at least a little, if he were to be honest with himself.

He goes through cases faster than John can write about them, which is saying a lot.

He feels brilliant; it's absolutely wonderful, this peak in his career, though he has been getting quite a lot of requests for missing pets, which irks him.

It's all going so superbly, when Jim Moriarty shows up again. Robbing the Bank of England, breaking into Pentonville Prison, and dressing himself up in the Crown Jewels, simultaneously.

Sherlock can't help but have a little respect for the man. More than a little, in fact.

It doesn't stop him from trying to show off, during Moriarty's court case, but he can't help himself. The consulting criminal is almost goading him when he makes eye contact, and he wants to make an impression, something, because Jim Moriarty is the first person he's truly considered a worthy opponent.

This is only confirmed when Moriarty manages to be declared not guilty. He walks free, and Sherlock sets the pot on the stove, makes tea for two.

o-=

After Moriarty leaves, Sherlock stares at the apple on the table for a very long time. Jim was right: he is a bit glad that the criminal is still on the streets, that the verdict hadn't been against him, because he needs distraction, something to alleviate the boredom that always seems to take over. He knows what John would say to this: Bit not good.

But what about "the fall"? Sherlock ponders Jim's words, and he can only guess at what the consulting criminal has in mind next.

Sherlock doesn't mention the visit to John when he returns to the flat.

o-=

Soon after, Lestrade comes to 221B with another case.

Saint Aldate's School, part-time home of an ambassador's children, is large and stately, and extremely expensive, though apparently not so expensive that child safety is guaranteed, because the ambassador's children are missing.

It takes Sherlock a scraping from the floor and a short time in the lab at St. Bart's to find the children, and just in time, too, because they're slowly being killed by mercury poisoning, though they don't know it.

And then, the rescued girl screams upon seeing Sherlock at the Yard, and all starts to roll slowly downhill.

=-o

Moriarty is everywhere in Sherlock's mind tonight, and it really doesn't help when the video starts playing in the cab, nor when Jim turns out to be the one driving.

The next several hours are a blur, even to Sherlock.

Lestrade coming in with the warrant for his arrest, his escape with John.

The confrontation with Kitty Riley, that infernal, senseless reporter girl, with Moriarty, Richard Brook, and his lies.

And then, leaving John, and meeting Molly at Bart's, because he needs help. She's the first person he tells the truth to, but if what he has in mind goes according to plan, she won't be the only one.

o-=

John arrives at Bart's some time later, Sherlock sends a text, and they wait.

Around sunrise, John receives a call.

"What happened? Is she okay?" A pause, and then, "Oh my God. Right, yes, I'm coming."

Sherlock has his feet up on the lab table. He asks quietly, "What happened?"

"Paramedics. Mrs. Hudson, she's been shot."

"What? How?"

John is frantic. "Well, probably one of the killers you managed to attract… Jesus, Jesus, she's dying, Sherlock. Let's go." He turns toward the door.

Sherlock doesn't move. "You go. I'm busy," he says, disinterestedly.

Shocked, and somewhat outraged, John turns back around. "Busy?"

"Thinking. I need to think."

John is furious by now. "You need to—? Doesn't she mean anything to you? You once half killed a man because he laid a finger on her!"

Sherlock shrugs. "She's my landlady," he says, by way of answer.

"She's dying," John's hand thrashes as he tries to contemplate Sherlock's attitude, then gives up.

"You machine," he spits.

Sherlock almost breaks down right now. He's almost ready to tell John the truth, that it isn't real, that Mrs. Hudson is fine. To say, Don't go.

And John turns around and leaves. "Sod this. Sod this. You stay here if you want, on your own."

Sherlock takes a deep breath, but keeps it silent so John can't hear him. "Alone is what I have. Alone protects me."

John opens the door and glares back at his flatmate. "No. Friends protect people."

After he storms out of the room, Sherlock's phone alerts him to a new text message. He knows before checking who it's from.

He heads for the roof.

o-=

He can hear the music before he reaches the top of the stairs.

The sunlight washes the rooftop, and Sherlock decides that it is entirely too bright for this kind of meeting.

"Staying alive! It's so… boring, isn't it? It's just… staying."

=-o

"That's your weakness: You always want everything to be clever. Now, shall we finish the game? One final act… Glad you chose a tall building, nice way to do it."

"Do it? Do what? …Yes, of course, my suicide."

" 'Genius detective proved to be a fraud.' I read it in the paper, so it must be true." Jim grins widely. "But that's not all, Sherlock, nooo, because you still think you can win this, don't you? Did Kitty tell you? The other special thing that's going to be in today's paper?" Without waiting for Sherlock to respond, he continues, leer growing. "Nah, she didn't, silly girl, but I will.

"Y'see, there was this thing that happened a few years ago, round nineteen-ninety, hmm? I believe your own brother, dear Mycroft, coined the term "the Eugenics Wars", didn't he?"

Sherlock's brow furrows in confusion.

Moriarty continues. "But then, you knew that already, didn't you, Mr. Singh?"