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This is an in-between world he’s living in. He’s in-between seeing and touching, touching and never quite having. John’s presence is enough, but he barely ever gets that anymore. The mind palace version is a poor substitute when he’s gone without the real thing for too long.
He barely ever gets a break anymore. He feels like he hasn’t slept in years, and yet nothing feels real anymore, like this is all just a dream. A bad dream, because he doesn’t get to have John with him anymore, doesn’t get to enjoy what they once had.
A good dream, because John is alive.
It’s not hard to keep going, to keep working. It’s a relief. An excuse that keeps him from his own thoughts, keeps him from thinking about what he’s been through. What John’s been through. How John can’t be broken by anything, but how their connection has shattered.
How that doesn’t matter, because there’s a stronger one in place now. One that can’t be destroyed, because they don’t ask for anything, don’t expect anything. They only ever give. John tries his best, though he doesn’t always understand the field they’re playing. Sherlock wants nothing but for John to be happy.
It’s how they work now. It’s how they’ve always worked.
But this is the first time he’s realised it.