You're the Freak"
"Tell me Philip, why do you care so much?"
"Why don't you?" Anderson demanded.
"You never used to." Sally scoffed.
"The man was shot barely a week ago, his heart stopped, technically he was dead for several minutes. If this was anyone else Sally you'd be out looking with the rest of us, but because this is Sherlock Holmes you couldn't seem to care less."
"I do care." Sally shot back. "I loathe and detest the man, but that doesn't mean that I want anything bad to happen to him. I am just not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that I was one of the people looking for him when you all find him safe and well and find out that this was just another ploy to get our attention."
"What happened to you Sally?" Anderson spat, shaking his head in disgust of the woman standing before him – shamelessly owning her lack of empathy.
"What happened to you?" She demanded. "You're standing there all holier than thou, but you used to give him as good as we got with the rest of us. You're the one who's changed Philip, not me!"
"We shamelessly hounded Sherlock like a pack of wolves. "Anderson glared. "Don't pretend that he always deserved our vendetta against him. It was jealously that drove our hatred, jealously that the man could do things that we even as police officers could only dream of, not principle. We were both devastated when we thought he was dead, and that we were partly responsible for him taking his own life. The difference is that whilst you were somehow able to push that thought to the back of your mind I grew a heart!"
"Don't make out as though I don't have a conscience!" Sally screamed. "You lost a good job because you were unable to put the man's death behind you! I just refused to throw away the rest of my life over Sherlock Holmes!"
"Yes, and look where it's got you Sally," Anderson sighed, "so cold that you can't even bring yourself to help us search for a dying man! You once told John that one day there'd be a body in a morgue somewhere and that Sherlock Holmes would have put it there. If anything happens to Sherlock and you refuse to help us look for him then his blood will be on your hands."
"I wasn't the one who shot him." She glared at him coldly. "I didn't force him to leave the hospital!"
"You know Sally," Anderson growled, his voice alarmingly controlled. He lowered his tone to a dangerous hiss and Sally could tell that he was about to bring the conversation to an end, "since Sherlock returned from the dead he's been a changed man. Granted he's still cold and distant. He can't understand and empathise with other people's feelings and motivations, but at least he's making an effort, I can see that now, it's not that he chooses not to. You on the other hand have become everything you once hated about Sherlock Holmes. You're the freak!" He spat, before turning his back on Sally and storming from the room – leaving the sergeant with a look as though she'd just been slapped in the face.