"Me? And Jim?" he scoffed. "You must be kidding right? He's my arch enemy for God's sake. I hate him. If you left me alone in a room with him I really couldn't be held responsible for my own actions. No. No, it's nothing like that. I just...I don't want you getting close to him. Your my friend John. No one elses."
Sherlock frowned but accepted John's medical opinion that Jim probably wouldn't recover. "I guess it's for the best," he muttered, "although I'd really love to see the look on his face if he ever remembered who I was. And the look on his face before I blew his brains out," he added quietly under his breath, "properly this time."