Intro

It hadn't been so long ago that Sherlock had been able to completely detach himself from any and every sort of situation. He used to have no trouble removing his emotional motivations in order to move effectively through his life, or what he had considered to be his life. He had been so absorbed in his work that feelings didn't often occur within him. He used to be all but robotic in the way he dealt with his interests and activities. He had begun to lose the last bits of humanity that he had hidden deep within himself. He had buried any sort of emotion left with his cold calculations and precise deductions. That is, until John Hamish Watson limped into his life.

In no way had Sherlock expected John to change his life, and certainly not so entirely. Just like any other sort of drastic change, it happened almost unnoticeably. It was slow, but the effect that John had on Sherlock was very definite and steady. Yes, at first it was just a smile here, a grin there. A chuckle at a joke Sherlock wouldn't have otherwise found funny. But soon he noticed his concern and interest for John growing. Even when he would forget to eat himself, Sherlock would make sure John was fed. He began to remember John's favorite places to eat, the way he took his tea, the stupid shows that he liked to watch. His affection for this man he had once barely known was greater by the day. The slight smiles John would give him that used to go unnoticed now made his heart flutter, if only a little. The feeling of John leaning over his shoulder to read his notes, his chest hardly touching Sherlock's back, made something deep in his stomach turn over excitedly. He began to associate the smell of vanilla, tea, and gun powder, John's smell, with home. He started to think of John as home.

It had been a long while since Sherlock had even considered such a thing as home existed. But now he found himself not only believing in the notion, but finding it within a person. He didn't just find his home within John. He found comfort, certainty, patience, guidance, and compassion. All things he had thought he'd lost, things he thought he had given up for his work. And yet there they were, right before Sherlock's eyes, in John's smile, in John's hands, in John's eyes. The most human parts of Sherlock were all found through John. And if that didn't care the ever living shit out of him, nothing could. Still, Sherlock could not tear himself away. He knew what he was risking, or so he thought. Even so, he continued to quietly study John, learning his quirks and little subtleties. He continued to learn and memorize all that he could about the soldier that had so quickly altered his life. Yes, he knew John was changing him. Yes, he had begun to feel new and absolutely terrifying emotions. But John was a puzzle Sherlock had yet to solve, the most confusing, troubling, and riveting one he had ever come across.