A drunken man's accusations are typically false but that hardly means it's not the raw core of what's going on inside of his chest at any given moment. Sherlock's lingering presence has never truly left, no matter how faded it might have gotten.

That doesn't stop John from feeling utterly alone now as he watches Sherlock turn to leave. He might have entertained the idea that having the dark haired man return to his smokey existence might be nice on nights where John had worried endlessly about him, but to have it quite possibly happen?

John's usually the sort to let things go. He's learned to stop trying to hold on to anything these days. And yet, the very thought of Sherlock being gone is too much for him to bear.

"Where?" Not a 'no, please stop.' "You can't just keep leaving." Not without him, Sherlock. He's been at your side for nearly those entire eighteen months. What he's really saying is that he wants it back the way it had been. None of these half arsed attempts to continue on in such a diluted level.

Of course, the words just keep coming, before Sherlock has the chance to answer.

"If you insist on-- No. No.. You're not leaving. You'll have no one at all to look after you." Or perhaps that was 'out for you'? Quite hard to tell.