[Sherlock gives a frustrated, furious noise and lifts his arms as though to work his fingers into his hair and pull, as though to tear himself to pieces.]
I don't even know that you're real!
[He shouts it to John's retreating back, but he doesn't follow, can't follow. His feet are firmly planted. It's easier not to, anyway. It'd be so much easier to write this off as some cruel trick of the mansion's. Why does nobody ever question? They come and they go too quickly for all of it to be genuine, it must be some bitter game. The mansion soothes, and then takes away the balm, rips open a healing wound more cruelly than before. It happens. It happens so very often.
And if he's wrong? If he's wrong, or if this isn't like that at all, what then? Then there's nowhere to go, and John will be back, and they'll deal with it then, they'll... sort something out. It might even be better than being alone, though right now, Sherlock doubts it. Still, he resolves himself to try.]
action
I don't even know that you're real!
[He shouts it to John's retreating back, but he doesn't follow, can't follow. His feet are firmly planted. It's easier not to, anyway. It'd be so much easier to write this off as some cruel trick of the mansion's. Why does nobody ever question? They come and they go too quickly for all of it to be genuine, it must be some bitter game. The mansion soothes, and then takes away the balm, rips open a healing wound more cruelly than before. It happens. It happens so very often.
And if he's wrong? If he's wrong, or if this isn't like that at all, what then? Then there's nowhere to go, and John will be back, and they'll deal with it then, they'll... sort something out. It might even be better than being alone, though right now, Sherlock doubts it. Still, he resolves himself to try.]