Eyes are windows into the soul.

Or so they said. Sherlock never really put much stock in trivial or useless things like that. Come to think of it he wasn't even sure why he still had that information. Surely he deleted it a long time ago, what good did it do him?

But as he stood there, on the banks of a nameless lake with the girl he's been looking for not five feet away, he felt something… shift. Something inside him moved, changed, clicked and it was because of Hanna's eyes.

He'd always thought that her eyes were pleasing to look at but this was different. It wasn't just that her eyes were nice; it was that they were focused. They didn't drift and glide across him as they had before. Her eyes were fixed, and they were fixed on him.

"How is this possible," she asked after a moment of just staring at each other.

"I don't know," he said and for once he truly didn't. What was this strange pressure making his stomach uncomfortable? More importantly, how did he make it stop?

"The main compound in the poison the blinded you is rare," the boy said causing Hanna to break the connection and turn towards him. "When it does pop up, it's around lakes like this one. A group of locals go around looking for it every spring; I suppose someone missed something this time."

"Are the people who swimming in the lake going to be okay?" Hanna asked, taking a step towards the boy and Sherlock felt a new pressure in his chest.

"Yeah they'll be fine," the boy shrugged reaching his hand up to brush the hair out of Hanna's face. Sherlock fought the urge to punch him. "To be affected like you have they need a much higher dosage and it would almost need to be injected right into their blood stream. It's very weak in its natural state.

"However," he said looking closely at her eyes. "It's strong enough to affect what's already in your system. The cure to your blindness, Hanna, is unfortunately the poison itself. When introduced to your system it breaks up what is in your blood already. Causing you to, temporarily, regain your site before it once again settles."

"So can I just keep taking it and keep my sight?" she asked an almost desperate tone to her voice.

He hesitated, "I want to tell you yes… but the reality is that what's in your system will never leave it. The more you take the more it builds up until… you die." she nodded slowly, turning to look back out at the lake. It was then that Sherlock noticed she'd changed her hair. She hand bangs now, they made her look…older.

"I figured it would be something like that," she said with a weak smile. "It's always something."

Sherlock took a step forwards and the boy's eyes snapped back to him. He reached for Hanna's arm and pulled her behind me and Sherlock stopped. "Just back away slowly," he said to Sherlock who's eyes narrowed.

"Ben-"

"Don't tell me it's fine Hanna, I saw everything and know that it's not," He said cutting her off before turning back to him. "Now, you stood there and watched her- watched her jump into the water and then didn't do a DAMN THING to help her."

"Ben-"

"No," he hissed. "He was going to let you die Hanna-"

"I know that!" she shouted ripping her arm out of his grip. "And I deserve it! You don't know the things I've done, or not done Ben! You, like everyone else I meet, fall into the same trap; you all think I'm so innocent and sweet- I'm NOT! I've done things and because of that people have gotten hurt- people have died in my name Ben. Sherlock was right to let me drown-"

"If someone would let Sherlock speak for himself some things might get cleared up," he growled in annoyance and they both turned to look at him. "I wasn't going to let her drown- I was going to go in a get her but my mind had yet to, and still is processing, what I had just learned. I would never let Hanna die- she's too important."

"Important," Hanna questioned stepping around the boy. "What do you mean?"

He averted his eyes, "you know what I mean."

"No I don't," she said. "Tell me now Sherlock… or never tell me at all." he slowly turned his head to look back down at her. Her pale skin glowed in the moon light, reminding him of that night in the club. How many months ago was that? Too many, he thought as his eyes traced the patters of the freckles across the bridge of her nose.

"Hanna-" he started suddenly remembering the morning after he revealed he'd faked his death. John, Hanna, and He were all sitting around the table. She acted as sort of a mediator between them and he remembered the mix of emotions he'd felt about that. Intrigued, concerned, territorial, curious, but most of all she made him feel calm.

He was anything but calm now. He could feel his heart beat rising, the way his stomach turned into knots as he stared into her eyes. Those big blue eyes that captured him in their depth and left him awash in a sea of their vastness. She looked so young sometimes, but she always carried herself like she was much older. "-I-"

"Now or never Sherlock," she whispered again, taking another step towards him. He took a step back

"Um-"

"You said I was important Sherlock. I'll stop playing games if you do, what do you mean by that? Tell me now, in the next thirty seconds, or never tell me at all."

All he could do was stare at her, the silver light of the moon reflected off her hair like a beacon; illuminating the dark space around them. He knew what she wanted him to say, but in these matters- matters of the heart- Sherlock was out of his depth. "Hanna-"

"Yes?"

"You-" he stopped, swallowing hard. "I-" he stopped again. Damn it! Why couldn't he say such simple little words?

She nodded slowly as she took a step back. "I guess I was wrong," she sighed. "I'm sorry, Sherlock. I thought… well I guess it doesn't matter what I thought," she smiled weakly at him. "Let's just forget this whole thing, yes?" She turned to walk back to Ben, who'd been watching the scene from his spot a few feet away, but Sherlock grabbed her wrist.

"Hanna-"

She turned back to face him, her blue eyes shined with tears that broke his once cold and closed off heart. She changed that, she changed… everything. She changed his world with the little things, like her calming presence that morning so long ago. With the way she depended on him but held her own still. The way she chose to acknowledge her past but not let it define her amazed him. It was her mind that first drew in his attention, but the little things captured his heart.

He knew what to say.

1- I just want to start this by saying: if you're looking for hard science and facts and such YOU ARE IN THE WRONG PLACE. The poison used on Hanna is a figment of my imagination. I needed it to make the story work. So if you are confused by it, I'm sorry.

2- Can you feel it? This story is nearing its end and it makes me sad :'(

3- WHO EVER ORDERED THIS GOD DAMN SNOW NEEDS TO STOP!

4- More talking to you guys!

Satanmoriarty- welcome to the review party! It's nice of you to join us and I'm happy you like this story so much! :))

ChicagoAnimeLuver13- muwahahahahahahahahaha *lighting strike in background* I'll never tell *pulls doctor evil pose*

Lady Schmetterling- I want them together too! But Sherlock, being all logical and shit, kinda threw a wrench in the plan. =_= but I'm glad you like it :))

bored411- sometimes I feel bad, leaving you guys with cliffhangers, but then I giggle maniacally and post the chapter anyway :) hehehehe

that's all for now folks! till next friday :D

-katy