John leant against the door, trying to take in all that had happened. It had been the best and the worst day. But then again, he got Sherlock. Amazing, brilliant, clever Sherlock. 'Hurtful Sherlock. Lying Sherlock.' The back of his mind whispered. 'He made you feel all that pain. He made you want to die.' Only without him, he protested, but the damage was done. Did he even want to see Sherlock? After everything Sherlock had done? Did he really want to spend time with that man who had caused him so much pain? Sherlock, a man who could switch emotions like blinking, who could manipulate you with a smile, who could tear you down with a few words. What if he was lying earlier? What if he was faking it to get something? But what? It couldn't be information. Maybe he was trying to get John to trust him. But why? What if…Oh. Oh God, no. John sunk down to the floor. What if it was all an experiment. To test emotions. To play with trust. To toy with love. To watch the horror on John's face as he leaked blood through a wound made with Sherlock's knife.

Sherlock stared at Mycroft.
"Just go."
"Brother, I must insist-"
"Go, Mycroft."
"As you wish."

Sherlock leant against the door, trying to take in all that had happened. He had almost lost John. John had almost slipped through his fingers, while he was desperately trying to hold on. He thought back to that night at the pool with Moriarty. He would always remember that first moment when he felt his world rip apart. That one moment when he truly doubted John. When he thought that John was behind it all. That he was going to have to kill John. He thought that was the worst moment of his life. There had been a strong contender today, though. He was going to make sure he would never see that ever again. No one could hurt John. Not him, not Moriarty, not anyone. John was his.

John slowly made his way up the stairs and curled up on the couch and thought. Thought about what he should do. Whether he should let Sherlock in, or refuse him to come near John. Just in case. He remembered every lie and disguise Sherlock had made up. He had been an innocent vicar, a distraught mourner, a new tenant and so much more. He could pretend to be a loving man. That would be easy. That would be very easy. But why would he save John? Surely, it would just prove what people would do for love. Unless…'He was trying to drag it out. He didn't care about your life. He never does. He only ever cares about his damn experiments. He's been leading you on, from the moment he met you. Trying to see how far a friendship could stretch.' John couldn't live without him, that much had been made very clear over the last month, but he couldn't live like this either.

Sherlock took a deep breath, preparing himself for a punch in the face or some very loud abuse, and walked in 221B and up the stairs. He slowly walked into the living room and towards John. What he got was much worse.
"Get out." John said quietly when he saw Sherlock.
"John, I'm sor-
"Get. Out."
"I had to pretend to die. To save you." Didn't John get it? He had to protect him, and he was sorry, but he couldn't have stopped it.
"I don't care about that. I said, get out."
"But John-"
"Didn't you hear me? I don't want to look at you, Sherlock. I don't want to talk to you or be around you. So leave." Sherlock's newfound heart was breaking. He didn't understand."
"John. What is wrong? I thought…" He couldn't continue. He just couldn't.
"You lied, didn't you? You're a sociopath, Sherlock. You don't care at all. This is just another damn experiment for you. Sorry, but your experiment is ruined."
"Wha-"
"Because I lied too."