You are placed in the life of someone. Unknown age, gender, nothing. You have a disorder that nobody knows about, not even you. You try to ignore it but it's no use. Warning- this gets weird and a little violent in some ways.

He was a lonely child. But he had one friend. A friendship born from need, a friendship that has stood for almost thirty years. A friendship that has developed, developed to the point that each needs the other to survive. But Sherlock needs to leave. And he doesn't know how he will survive. He relives it, every moment of the thirty years they have spent together. But it will finish. As Sherlock Holmes stands on the top of the building, looking at his oldest friend, flatmate, colleague, lover, he wonders if he made the right choice, becoming John Watson's friend. Because Sherlock needs to leave John. And Sherlock doesn't think he can. DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the Sherlock characters, they were all invented by the amazing Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and physical descriptions and some plot lines belong to BBC's Sherlock.

Be warned, there are many stories here that you may question. A lot. Don't judge me too harshly, I'm always cringing as it is. For the most part it's cute, but....