AN: I own nothing, and all that stuff...if I did we wouldn't have to wait a whole YEAR between series...this was written by The One Named After A Hat.

Sherlock

"Ermm...you, you told me once that you weren't a hero. Erm, there were times when I didn't even think that you were human but...let me tell you this, you were, the best man...err, the most human, human being that I've ever known and no one will ever convince me, that you told a lie. So...there. I was, so alone, and I owe you so much. Okay. Actually there's just one more thing, one more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me, just don't. Be...dead. Just stop it, stop this."

My John.

So lately, been wondering

Who will be there to take my place

I could never manage to get the hang of normal social interactions. Intelligence, yes. Observation, definitely. Just don't ask me to be nice. I can't do nice.

So when the five year old me found a psychological text book in my brothers bedroom (Looking for blackmail material) and found the description of a sociopath...

How I envied those people, who walked through life not caring how others thought of them, serving only themselves.

Soon after that, I adopted the title for myself. It was so much simpler to let people think I didn't have feelings then to show how truly out of my depth I am around them.

When I'm gone, you'll need love

To light the shadows on your face

Imagine how much I regretted all that time spent pouring over crime scenes instead of human emotion when I finally found the one person I didn't want to hide from. I had always wanted to push people away, then John Watson came into my life like a stone through a pane of glass. He fractured my sociopathic barrier, letting all those painful things I had been blocking seep through in his wake. Had he been anyone else, I would have hated him.

But he wasn't anyone else.

If a great wave shall fall

It would fall upon us all

And between the sand and stone

Could you make it on your own?

He made me feel. He was deceptively ordinary, my blogger. Everything about him screamed, "Nothing to see here!" Or rather, it mumbled quietly, as he hardly ever screamed.

Until he shot a man through a window in another building and then laughed about it.

Until he called me, the smartest man in any room I can think of (including this one) an idiot.

Until he was prepared to die for me. I never understood that.

If I could, then I would

I'll go wherever you will go

Way up high or down low

I'll go wherever you will go

He was strong. I had never seen him cry, never seen him loose control, not properly.

Until now.

He was crying at my grave, a slab of black marble, elegantly engraved in gold with my name. Pretentious, pompous and unnecessary, it was exactly the sort of thing I had expected Mycroft to pick out.

And maybe I'll work out

A way to make it back some day

To watch you, to guide you

Through the darkest of your ways

If a great wave shall fall

It would fall upon us all

Well I hope there's someone out there

Who can bring me back to you.

I never told him how I felt. Not even in my 'Note.'

Run away with my heart

Moriarty knew. At the pool, he swore to burn the heart out of me. It took all of my strength not to look at John. He was my heart. He is my heart.

Run away with my hope

I always said that I do not care about people. John Watson wasn't 'people.'

Run away with my love