His eyes thinned again. He didn't like the insinuation that Greg was making.

But the problem was, Sherlock was afraid that he might be right.

His body felt like lead. He was going to have to watch John grow old, and then die. And then be reborn again, over and over, he could look but he could never again touch.

"And he will have no memory of me.." Of how I treated him, or what I did to him, how he felt about me- he thought.