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There’s a reason Sherlock Holmes cut himself off from emotions. For as far back as he can remember, and that’s quite a ways with as large as his brain capacity is, Sherlock has had an uncontrollable fear of letting people down. Atelophobia his doctors said; fear of imperfection.
This issue, this disease, has made life an absolute hell for Sherlock. He’s never been able to keep a flatmate, has been under constant surveillance by his brother (which really doesn’t help matters because he constantly has to worry about doing something that upsets his brother), and it makes his one passion in life harder to maintain. How can he deduce things when what he says upsets people so much?
“That was ... Amazing.”
“Do you think so?”
“Of course it was. It was extraordinary! It was quite extraordinary!”
Doctor John H. Watson flips a switch in Sherlock’s dark world that no one’s ever dared to touch. All of a sudden, there’s someone to praise him; someone to appreciate what he can do, what he loves to do. Sherlock feels as though he can take on the world.
Sherlock doesn’t like it when John give him that ‘bit not good’ look, but he can’t help it. Sometimes he says things that are hurtful (but true) because it’s how he copes. It makes it easier to bear the disappointment and fear of doing something wrong. It probably does make it worse, people tend to look at him with disgust when he says these things, but John makes everything better.
“I’ve figured you out,” John says one afternoon as they’re leaving a particularly gruesome scene.
“Have you?” Sherlock asks.
“Yep,” John sighs. “Atelophobia.”
Sherlock stops short, turns to stare at John. “What?” John shouldn’t know this… this… this thing that is ruining Sherlock’s life. If John knows, John will leave. Sherlock needs John; John is the only constant, the proof that he’s not a complete fuck up.
“It’s fine, Sherlock. It’s all fine. I’m still here, yeah?”
Sherlock gives a subtle nod and mumbles something John can’t hear.
“What? Sorry?”
Sherlock rolls his eyes. “For now. You’re still here for now.”
“No,” John admonishes. “I’m still here, always. Sherlock, if I’ve put up with all of your eccentricities for this long, what makes you think learning one more bit about what makes you so Sherlockian will change anything? I’m not going anywhere.”
Sherlock is grateful John’s come into his life. Without him, he’d never know he’s done a bit of good in his world of doing everything wrong.