Anguish
Fool!
A man walked on the London pavements, rain lashing on his shoulders. Passerbys glanced oddly at his drenched figure but he pushed on.
Idiot! What kind of detective are you! What kind of friend are you! How could you not notice! How could you not tell!
The man stumbled and nearly fell. He got to his feet and staggered to the nearest alley.
Is he not human? Are you the only one allowed to break?
The man brought his fist into contact with the wall.
You expect him to be there when you leave, to be there when you come back.
He choked down the sobs gathering at his throat.
Sometimes I wish you would not treat everything as a case, Sherlock. Especially not him.
"I don't" the man whispered "I don't. Believe me, please."
Then why did he try it?!
A sob escaped him as he collapsed into his knees.