June prompt: Invisible

Time does funny things to a person. Spend too long in one person's company and you start to take them for granted.

Then one day they aren't there, and you start to wonder when you last saw them. When you last really looked at them as an individual, a person in their own right?

When you last realised that they existed?

Sometimes that realisation comes too late for you to do anything about. You've treated them as invisible for so long that one day they really are. I think often now about Molly. But then, she was just the person who we went to for the use of her lab – and her bodies.

Poor Molly had such a thing for Sherlock, but he never noticed her. At least, he never noticed her when it was important to her. Sure, he could throw the complements around when he needed something from her – comments about lipstick and hair and 'is that new, Molly?' Comments that had her scrambling to do whatever it was he wanted.

But at other times she was invisible to him. Just another soul he had no need for at that particular time.

And then one day we turned up to the lab at St. Bart's to find that Molly had gone, moved on with her life, no forwarding address, no goodbye.

Being friends with Sherlock Holmes is one of the greatest rewards in this life. But it is also one of the hardest too. He counts his friends on one hand, but that doesn't mean he treats them well.

Lestrade is a prime example. Sherlock is often openly derisive of the man. And a sharp retort from Holmes is to be cut to the bone. Yet Lestrade openly sought out Sherlock for some of the most complex (and exhilarating) cases of his career. In fact, it could rightly be said that without Lestrade involving him, Sherlock's career would not have been so prolific.

Yet still the man makes believe that he doesn't know Lestrade's first name. Greg is actually a very accomplished detective in his own right, and was so long before he met Sherlock Holmes. Yet for many, especially the Press, he is all but invisible when a case is solved by the indomitable Sherlock Holmes.

And then one day a very smug Tobias Gregson is knocking on our door with a new case and he delights to say that Lestrade has moved on. Moved on and moved up. Sherlock wishes him well in his new role in a new city, but there was no goodbye, no chance to reminisce. No chance for Sherlock to express how much he appreciated Lestrade.

Mrs Hudson is a different matter altogether. That man would kill for her – almost did, in fact. But that still doesn't make him see her as she really is. Mrs Hudson has poor taste in men, that can't be denied, but the callous way in which Sherlock treated her latest interest had me almost yelling at him. In fact, I was quite short!

But this is all a lie. It is a ruse. A subterfuge.

A way of safeguarding the ones that he loves.

Of course Sherlock and I said goodbye to Molly. We wished her well. We bought her a leaving gift (even if Sherlock doesn't know what it was). Sherlock still keeps an eye on her even now, checking that she is safe and well.

Of course Sherlock knows Greg by name. He might be derisive out there in the field, but they chat just fine at Christmas, exchanging gifts. Sherlock still helps him out occasionally, but Lestrade has less need for his talents now.

And Mrs Hudson? Sherlock thinks the world of her and has even seen a person that would be perfect for her – that matchmaking incident was both excruciating and hilarious.

And me?

Sometimes the world seems to forget I exist. But Sherlock never has.

Because no person is invisible to Sherlock Holmes. He just keeps them close to his heart.