Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Moffat/Gatiss world of Sherlock, nor do I own anything of Sir ACD's world of Sherlock.

Summary: "I lied John, I lied an awful lot, and I'm a coward too. I couldn't tell you I lied to your face. I never fabricated any facts or figures. Everything and anything to do with cases was 100% true. But some things: mostly small but sometimes large, often you saw right through my empty words." Companion piece to Twelve. Can be read alone though.


I lied John, I lied an awful lot, and I'm a coward too. I couldn't tell you I lied to your face. I never fabricated any facts or figures. Everything and anything to do with cases was 100% true. But some things: mostly small but sometimes large, often you saw right through my empty words.

Honestly it got to a point when the guilt that ate at me reached its boiling point, I couldn't cope. It took me ages to think of something, the thought of just talking to you never really occurred. I bought a mobile phone; a cheap one, and I hid it away. Every time I told you a lie I would text the phone with it, the truth behind it and my justification. It was for you. Looking back I realise how pusillanimous that was of me. I'm sorry about that.


I'm sure we have some biscuits, have you checked the top cupboards?

We don't have ay biscuits left. I'm sorry. I ate the last ones.

I was hungry. I didn't want you to know that I was hungry; I don't want you to know that I ever eat. Eating makes me human, it makes me easier to relate to, and then people think they can just waltz into my life. They can't John, and I don't want them to. Eating, being human, gives me weaknesses, and I don't want to be weak.


I didn't use the rest of the milk.

I did use the rest of milk. I'm sorry.

I also broke one of those nice mugs, but the cup of tea was nice before I knocked it off the table.


What experiment?

Unfortunately I know exactly which experiment you are talking about. I'm sorry.

It wasn't meant to do that, I thought that I could have it cleared up before you got back, but then it got out of hand, and I thought if I left it in the cupboard I could leave it there until you went out again and I could clean it up. Sorry about your socks.


Your computer? I haven't seen it.

I have seen your computer John. I saw it earlier. I'm sorry.

Honestly? I can't remember where I saw it. Call me big headed (and I know you will happily oblige) but I want to seem perfect, especially to you. If I admit that I saw it and can't remember where, that just shatters the illusion.


The blood-cubes in the freezer weren't of my design.

Yes John, I did design them, and I spent countless hours ensuring that they were the correct temperature and size. I'm sorry.

I was trying to see how long it takes blood to thaw out. It was going to be perfect. I know you don't like my experiments but you were going to be out all day. I planned it perfectly. But then I forgot about them, I dozed off for a bit, and then you were home, and you had found them. But I promise, I promise, that when you next go out I will spend that time removing any and all traces of blood from the freezer.


My phone's downstairs I tried calling Mrs. Hudson but she couldn't hear me.

Yes my phone is downstairs, but no I did not try to call Mrs. Hudson. I'm sorry.

I wanted to talk to you. As stupid as it sounds. I needed you to be there. I'm sorry you had to rush from the other side of London.


I'm not hungry.

I am hungry; in fact I'm starving. I'm sorry.

As specified before, being human equates to showing weakness, and despite the fact that I've known you for nearly a year now, I'm still don't know how to go about being 'normal' around you. I'm not sure I'll ever know.


Of course I'm sure.

I'm not sure John, I'm sorry.

There's always a niggling doubt, and I don't know how to stop it, I've come to the conclusion that I can't silence the niggling doubt, but I can act as if it's not there. So I do, I pretend that there is no possible way that I could be wrong about one tiny detail. It seems to work, but it still means that I have to lie to you, and I don't like that, I want to be truthful, but I can't bring myself to admit that I might be wrong, not yet.


What needles?

Of course I know what needles you mean and for this I am truly sorry.

I don't know what happened, this part of my life has been buried for a long time now; I'm past it all. You must know that this isn't your fault in any way, shape or form, it was just a small relapse: an itch that needed to be scratched. I wanted my mind to just stop for a minute or two, or at least slow down. I know that its no excuse, but I wanted time to think my own thoughts, so often it feels like I'm being left out of the loop as my brain speeds forward and figures everything out before the rest of me. I just wanted a rest. Again I'm sorry.


I don't need help, especially from you.

I do, John, especially from you.

I'm sorry.


I still look at the phone and wish you could have read it, or that I had enough courage not to lie to you in the first place.

But you did it too; I know you did. Because my biggest lie, our biggest lie, was the one we lived everyday, the small ones that amounted to the acres of space between us: 'This is my flatmate. We just live together. This is my colleague.'

And no matter how sorry I am for all of these lies that I've told you in the past, the lies that we told are the lies that are the most unforgivable, these are the ones that I regret ever being told, but John? These lies?

I forgive you for them.

I had hoped that you would extend the same courtesy to me.

But that's not going to happen is it?

But I forgive you for that too.

I forgive you for not being here.

Now please come back so you can apologise.