Sherlock characters Hogwarts houses (Opinion list)
Always that disclaimer of “disagree If you must, just don’t think I care enough to argue about it”. Enjoy.
Sherlock: I’ve gone over this many times but I guess I’ll go over it once again. A lot of people assume that he is a Ravenclaw because he’s smart. False. Sherlock Holmes is a textbook Slytherin. Yes he’s smart, but he’s smart about what HE likes to know. In the books for example he doesn’t care to even know that earth revolves around the sun & he even goes as far to say that he doesn’t care to even remember the fact. A Ravenclaw would NOT act like that. Sherlock is just a snarky, sarcastic, SOB who has very singleminded goals and aspirations. He isn’t a bookworm if the book doesn’t pertain to what he’s doing at the moment.
Mycroft Holmes: He’s fantastic for a sarcastic one liner. He’s like Sherlock but he’s even more of an asshole in my opinion. He and Sherlock constantly try to one up each other, but they don’t have similar goals necessarily so it never gets too rough. Totally a Slytherin.
Mary Watson: Two words… DECEIVED EVERYONE. She’s fantastic. Also very resourceful and has straightforward goals / aspirations.
John Watson: He’s brave, daring & it takes a bit of recklessness to follow after Sherlock. Absolutely brilliant friend. I just feel like Gryffindors would do the John thing and just make faces if they disagreed 😂
Greg Lestrade: Also a very obvious Gryffindor. Courageous and daring. He’s very friendly and seems like he would be popular with other humans.
Mrs. Hudson: She’s just a cute little puff. Ya gotta love Mrs. Hudson. Fave. PLUS she just kind of loves Sherlock & that’s just a cute little like family Slytherin/hufflepuff thing ya feel ❤️
Molly Hooper: This is only based on the show BECAUSE THERE IS NO MOLLY HOOPER IN THE FREAKING BOOKS. Anyways… she’s like a mix between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. She’s absolutely brilliant at what she does so I’ll credit that to Ravenclaw. She’s got hufflepuff traits too though like she’s loyal (even when Sherlock is awful to her lol), she’s a hard worker, she’s V PATIENT (with Sherlock again lol). Like idk she’s both in my mind. She doesn’t fit in just one house.
Jim Moriarty: This is gonna be an unpopular opinion to many because he’s the bad guy… but I wouldn’t say he’s 100% Slytherin. Like yes his goal is to beat Sherlock, but he’s kinda brilliant and he’s got the cocky thing from Gryffindor. So like he’s a Gryffindor/Slytherin/Ravenclaw. He’s so calculated and ingenious, but again he’s a cocky bastard & he’s very straightforward with his goals aka he has one goal in a sense.
Anderson and Sally: I loath them. They don’t deserve to go to Hogwarts.
She is amazing, and also my mind twin. Prompts were hers and she is lovely ❤️ Hoping for more collabs in the future!
Anonymous said Hi, i wondered if you could fill this prompt, sherlock x reader and the reader is seriously hurt and hospitalised during a case and it’s sherlocks fault so he feels really guilty that his love is hurt because of him. Your writing is lovely btw xxx
Imagine the reader taking a bullet for Sherlock o.o
|| “John!” Sherlock roared. Distantly, he heard footsteps rapidly approaching, but all of his attention was devoted to you and the massive amount of blood you were losing. He shifted his grip on you, trying as carefully as he could to maneuver you into his lap. You groaned loudly and gritted your teeth against the searing pain and pressed your hand to the wound on your side. “What the bloody hell happened?” John demanded, dropping to his knees beside you both. “Where is Moriarty?” “Gone,” you bite out angrily.
“She leapt in front of me,” Sherlock said, his voice laced with panic. “The bullet was meant for me.” John lifted the edge of your crimson soaked shirt and assessed your wound. As you removed your hand, dark red blood poured from the small, round hole above your hip bone. “It’s through and through,” he said, “I think it’s missed most major organs, but she’s lost a lot of blood.” He applied pressure to the area, desperately trying to stop the blood flow.
“So he’s gone?” the doctor questioned. Sherlock nodded bitterly, “John I believe-” he was cut short by a yell of pain escaping your lips “- I believe that is the least of our worries.” Keeping one hand on your wound, John used his other to fish out his phone to call for help. As he speaks urgently to emergency services your body begins to shake. Sherlock grips you tighter, taking in your pale skin, the sweat beading on your forehead as a sense of dread begins to fill his heart.
You might die because of him.
Sherlock stormed through the doors of 221B, flinging his long coat onto a kitchen chair. He slumped against the kitchen table, head held in his hands. He should have sent you home, he should have forced you into a cab and gotten you as far away from harm as possible. You’d begged and pleaded and eventually he’d given in. The detective couldn’t help the fact that he had given in because of his own selfish reasons. He had taken an interest in you, believed this was a simple case that he could solve easily, and impressively.
Sherlock thought he could make you fall for him.
And he stood, shaking on unstable legs, unable to believe the had been so foolish. He turned, slamming his fists onto the table, feeling the pain course through him, but it wasn’t enough. He gripped the edge of the table and flipped it, send it and it’s contents crashing to the kitchen floor. How was he supposed to sit here and wait for John to call with an update? How was he ever supposed to look you in your beautiful eyes ever again?
Not knowing what else to do, he bent down, righting the table again and began to clean up the mess he’d just made.
A few hours later, Sherlock heard footsteps approaching the entrance to 221B. He expectantly rose, and flung open the door only to reveal Mrs. Hudson. His face fell at her smile, him wanting to see a particular smirk.
Your smile, the one that could brighten his days after a particularly difficult case, the one that he dreamed of waking up to in the morning, the one that now, he may never see again.
“Yes, Mrs. Hudson?” he spat out angrily.
“Sorry Sherlock, but John wanted to see you.”
He immediately ran down the steps and through the front door. “John?” he asked, his voice laced with panic.
“John, how is she?”
“Out of surgery, Sherlock. She’s alive. And she’s asking for you.”
With the added relief of knowing that you were alive, came the guilt of knowing he’d have to face you.
“Well, what are you waiting for Sherlock, get in the cab!” John rushed.
“John I… I can’t.”
“You what? Sherlock, she took a fucking bullet for you and you don’t even want to go see her?” John was furious at this point.
“She is hurt because of me!” Sherlock reminded him. “Because I couldn’t keep her safe.”
“Sherlock, she’s been begging to see you. She won’t eat, she won’t take any medicine, she refuses to do anything until she sees you. She doesn’t even want to talk, Sherlock.” John noted Sherlock’s pained expression and softened a bit. “Sherlock, go”
The consulting detective pushed his long coat behind him and jumped in the cab, speeding away.
John groaned. “Sherlock, I meant with me. Go with me.”
You could head a pattering of footsteps outside the door, but your mind was cloudy and you couldn’t register it. You felt someone approach your hospital bed and you fought to open your heavy lids.
“Sh- Sherlock?” you mumbled as a pair of familiar eyes swum into your vision.
“Yes, it’s me, Y/N,” he replied, his voice heavy with emotion. You struggled hard against the fatigue and heavy doses of pain medication to focus on him. His blue-green kaleidoscope eyes were downcast, his shoulders slumped. He looked as terrible as you felt.
“Sherlock,” You breathed, the nearness of him already helping to make you feel better. The detective fidgeted, working hard to avoid your gaze. “Sherlock, I’m going to be ok. Please, look at me.” He raised his eyes to yours and you could see them almost overflowing with pain.
“Why Y/N?” He asked, his voice cracking.
“Why what?” you questioned, confused.
“Why did you do it? Why did you take the bullet for me?”
There a some interesting parallels between these episodes. The interesting point of course being that if TAB takes place in Sherlock’s head and scenes from this episode re-appear in TLD, one may conclude that TLD is not real either. Let’s have a closer look.
1) Sherlock is high, walks down the stairs of 221b, tries to put on his coat, stumbles against the wall because he is feeling weak. Both times he is not alone - in TAB he is with John, in TLD he is with Faith who can be read as a John mirror. The scenes are nearly identical. He nearly collapses in the same spot both times.
2) Then there are these quotes:
You’re Sherlock Holmes. Wear the damn hat.
I’m Sherlock Holmes. I wear the damn hat.
Why should Sherlock repeat the words he assigned to John in his MP? And in TLD this is not Ghost Mary using them but Sherlock himself so he is basically repeating himself her.
3) John threatening/using violence:
Sherlock, tell me where my bloody wife is, you pompous prick, or I’ll punch your lights out!
No, an Army doctor, which means I could break every bone in your body, while naming them.
In TAB many people were not bothered with these quotes because they are Sherlock’s words, not John’s. We may of course discuss why Sherlock chooses imagine in such a way but my point is this: In the morgue scene in TLD we seen John doing exactly what he threatened to do twice in TAB. I know the scene is hard to watch, it breaks my heart. But why are we so ready to believe this is real? Because John can be a violent man at times? But this is extreme and the fact that his threats are just Sherlock’s imagination makes me assume that the “real” violence may happen in his MP as well.
4) Mrs Hudson and John:
MRS HUDSON: And I notice you’ve published another of your stories, Doctor Watson.
WATSON: Yes. Did you enjoy it?
MRS HUDSON: No.
JOHN: Sometimes, can I borrow your car? MRS HUDSON: No.
Una’s face and her way of speaking are nearly identical in both scenes.
I am sure there is much more. I would love to read your additions.
Summary: What could happen if Sherlock gets high and goes off his rails?
Could you stop him? Well…things seem to get a little bit weird.
(Based on Sherlock’s ‘Henry V’ monologue – The Lying Detective)
Pairing: Sherlock x Reader
Title: ‘The Game is Afoot’
Content: The “Henry V” scene from “The Lying
Detective” / Humour / Angst / Mild swearing
Warning: If you haven’t seen the fourth season of Sherlock, please do
NOT read this one-shot. (Unless spoilers don’t bother you.) / Mild swearing
Word count: 5.372 (Oh, I’m on fire!)
A/N: Right. I based this on ‘The Lying Detective’. I TOTALLY loved this
episode and I think that the ‘Henry V’ speech was the best scene from it. I
mean, Benedict gave his best when portraying this crazy, maniac, yet amazing
Sherlock Holmes. He REALLY should have won the Emmy for ‘Outstanding Lead Actor
In A Limited Series or Movie’. Hope you like it. - xo
And there you were, walking down Baker Street while
talking on the phone with Molly.
“So…you think that John may be a little bit
concerned about Sherlock?”
“A little bit? Do you really know Sherlock?”
“Well, let’s say I know how we met and how he
couldn’t stop asking me for a second opinion so he could solve a crime of his.”
“Ok…good job,” she giggled. “Nobody gets Sherlock’s
attention when he’s thinking.”
“Do you think he’s ok, don’t you?” You asked
“Does he have a case?” She asked thinkfully.
“Not on my
watch,” you denied almost shouting.
“He is a
detective, he has to accept a case. That’s his job!”
“I said no,” you said and sighed.
“Ok. Try to convince him then.”
“I’ll do my best. Wish me luck.”
“Just try not to upset him, you know how we gets when
somebody confronts him,” Molly warned you.
“Yes, yes, I know,” you said sarcastically and hung up
You were now standing in front of the 221b Baker Street front door. You tried
to find the keys in your bag. Once you succeeded on it you finally opened the
door. Suddenly you heard a loud noise and somebody screaming. Also, you could
listen to “Le nozze di Figaro” coming
from Sherlock’s flat. You rolled your eyes and hung the bag on the wall hanger
which was in the hall. You thought he was only bored so he started shooting the
wall but actually, he was not. You stared at the stairs and sighed. You wanted
to go up stairs and calm him down but Mrs. Hudson showed up all of a sudden.
“Oh, my dear, thanks God you are here!” The landlady hugged you so tight that you
could barely breath.
“Mrs. Hudson…Mrs. Hudson…please,” you took a deep
breath and exclaimed: “Mrs. Hudson!”
“Oh, sorry darling. It’s a habit,” she realeased you.
“Mrs. Hudson, what’s going on here?” You asked
“Oh, you mean Sherlock,” she finger pointed the detective’s
“Yes. Sherlock. What is he doing?” You nodded angrily.
“Once more unto the breach, dear
“Is that he?” You inquiered astonishingly and then saw the landlady nod. “Ok,
that’s all. I’ll stop this.”
“No, Y/N!” she took you from the shoulder and faced you
with horror “Please, don’t disturb him.”
“But Mrs…” you were interrupted by Sherlock’s cries.
“Or close the wall up …with our English
dead! Set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide.”
You both heard two loud shots. He was surely shooting the wall.
“You see? If you go upstairs it will get worse. Stay with me, darling. We’ll
wait for him to stop shooting and screaming,” she offered.
“But he’s…” you were interrupted, again.
“Hold hard the breath and bend up every
spirit… to his full height!
He was now yelling at the top of his voice, his face full of rage.
“On, on, you noblest English…whose blood is fet from fathers of
“He has gone crazy. I should end this right now,” you stated. You were really
ashamed of what your ‘boyfriend’ was doing by then.
“Are you crazy, Y/N? Do you want to get shot?” She cried worriedly.
“And you, good yeoman, whose
limbs were made in England, show us here the mettle of your
“Fine. I’ll wait with you.
“Great!” She smiled with enthusiasm.
“What does cheer you up that much?” You frowned.
“Tea, my dear! Tea!” She exclaimed happily.
You sighed and followed Mrs. Hudson to the kitchen. Then you sat down on a
chair at the table and started listening with attention to Sherlock’s yelling.
He was certainly out of control. Meanwhile, the ex exotic dancer was putting
the kettle on and prepared some tea.
“So, when do you think he’ll stop?” she asked you.
“I don’t know, Mrs. Hudson,” you replied and sighed.
“And what do we do?” She looked at you waiting for an
“I would go up stairs but he would surely shoot on my
head,” you mumbled.
“Shall we call John?”
“Why? Do you think he would stop screaming if John
will be here?” You inquiered.
“Well, actually, he knows him better than you do, dear
mine,” she finger-pointed at you.
“Mrs. Hudson. He will not stop even if you’d give him
more morphine,” you complained. You couldn’t believe what Mrs. Hudson has just
said; you were the one who knew him better. In fact, you were the only one who
could stop him.
“Do you think he’s drunk?”
“… which I doubt not, for there
is none of you so mean and base …“
“No, Mrs. Hudson,” you rubbed your face sick of Mrs.
Hudson’s questions. “He’s definetely high as a kite”
“… that hath not noble lustre in your eyes!”
“Sherlock high? Again?”
You looked at her with a ‘Oh, God!’ look. “Oh,
please…don’t you know him?”
“He had never been high as he is now,” she shook her
“Fantastic!” You exclaimed sarcastically gesturing
with your hands.
“I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, straining upon the
“Does he always recite Shakespear’s Henry V when he’s
high?” You looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
“He often does it, but you should listen to him soliloquizing
Romeo’s letters to Juliet,” she laughted.
“When the hell did he had time to read Romeo and
Juliet?” You chuckled.
“You should observe him b…”
Meanwhile he stepped into the living room, aimed the pistol towards the wall
and fired four times more to various photos of Culverton Smith, the serial
killer that got Sherlock’s attention. The music ended and Sherlock was
“What was that? Did he stopped?” She looked at you in
“The game’s afoot.”
“Oh no, it is
not,” you stood up angry. “I’m gonna kill him, Mrs. Hudson. I am going to kill him.”
“Oh, dear; don’t,” she said but it didn’t work.
You ignored her and started walking towards the
stairs. You were really scared of Sherlock. You had no idea what he was capable
of when he was high. Especially when he carried a gun with him. Once on the
stairs, you continued her your nervous climb.
“Wait!” The detective yelled from the flat.
Your heart skept a bit when Bill Wiggins raced past
her. He scared you to death.
“I’m out of ’ere,” the young man said. “’e’s lost it.”
“Wiggins, what are you doing…” you glanced at him.
“Where is it?!” Sherlock asked angrily, from the
inside of his flat.
“’e’s totally gone!”
You jumped and drawed back while Bill headed off down
the stairs, and Sherlock kept yelling upstairs.
“Oh my God. What now?” You whispered to yourself with your
hands and legs shaking.
Sherlock breathed heavily as you slowly pushed the
door open again. Trembling you stared at the consulting detective. He could not
even maintain the equilibrium. Sherlock has gone off the rails. He looked
terrible; he didn’t shave himself or took a shower either. He was a total mess.
Sherlock was only wearing a dirty shirt, trousers in poor conditions and his
blue robe. The last time you saw him was last Monday and he looked sane, so that
You looked around the room. It was full of Culverton
Smith’s photographs. You scaringly shivered. You tried to be unnoticed but
Sherlock saw you.
“Oh, hello,” he said calmly. “Can I have a cup of
tea?” He turned and walked into
“Mrs. Hudson go to your
room. Now!” You screamed ordering the landlady to hide herself from him.
“Sherlock, please give me the gun,” you lifted a your right hand hoping that
he’ll do what you asked him to do.
“Do you mean this?”
He glanced at the weapon and observed it.
“Yeah; please give it to
me,” you nodded and ordered him calmly.
“What for? I need to get
rid of that monster!” You frowned as he pointed with his free hand at a wall
full of photographs.
He aimed the pistol to
Smith’s photo of the newspaper and shot it five times in a row. Then played
with the gun with his hand and took you from your shoulder to get you closer to
the wall full of the serial killer’s photos.
“This…this monster.He is a serial killer,” he pointed a photograph of him with the
“I believe you, but I need
the gun Sherlock.”
“Can’t you see what he can
do?!” He stared at you and frowned.
“I know, he would kill…”
“Anyone,” he finished
the sence for you.
“Exactly, anyone but
you can kill me if you keep playing with the pistol. Please, give it to me.”
“No,” he protested as he
walked into the kitchen.
“You better give me the
bloody gun or I’ll call the police!” you yelled from the living room and then
surprisingly he came back and faced you.
“I can solve this on my
own!” he walked towards you aiming the gun at you with his shaking hands.
“Please Sherlock, put that
gun down. Don’t you dare to shoot at me,” you cried terrified thinking that you
could die in a minute.
“Oh! Oh, you!” He laughted
throught greeted teeth and then pointed with his left index finger at you. He
smiled as a maniac. “You were always Smith’s partner in crime, weren’t
“Sherlock, for the last
time I beg you; put that gun down and don’t fire on me.”
“Why wouldn’t I? You betrayed me!”
“What? No! I would never betray you,” you shook your
“Oh, yes you would,” he put the pistol down and got
closer to you. He was that close to you that you could feel his heavy breath on
your face. “Playing with me made you happy. Did you enjoy the show?”
“Tea?” you asked and he frowned. “Fancy a cup of tea?”
He pulled back.
“What?! What..what have you just…”
“You said you wanted a cup of tea, didn’t you?” You
tried to calm both of you down and look him in the eyes.
He started to make gestures with his hands on the air.
“I said tea!” You exclaimed as you slapped him on his
face three times. He looked at you astoshingly, so you slapped him again but this
time the slap was that hard that he dropped the gun. It was now on the floor. You
quickly grabbed it and then aimed to Sherlock. “So now, do you want some tea?” He blinked as he stared
at the weapon. His hands were in the air with the purpose of surrendering. “Now
go to the kitchen and give me your handcuffs!”
“I already have them, my dear,” said the landlady who
walked into the room with them in her hands. “Oh,
get over yourself. You’re not my first smackhead, Sherlock Holmes. Here you are, you’ll have to thank me next time, Y/N.
You giggled as you took them from Mrs. Hudson’s hands.
You handcuffed Sherlock and told him to walk downstairs.
“Oh, for goodness’
sakes. I have to catch that maniac!” He protested as he
walked towards the hall.
“Yes, as you say Sherlock; but first you’re going to
“Who?!” he inquired shouting.
“Oh, god! Please.”
“Don’t be childish; you should have thought it twice
before getting high,” you were by then pointing with gun at Sherlock’s back.
“Could you please put that down? It hurts,” he
“Mrs. Hudson! Mrs. Hudson! Help!” He yelled.
“I won’t help you, my dear,” she was standing at the
door with her car keys in her hands.
“What?! Since when do you…”
“Oh, shut up!”
“Sherlock Holmes you are not gonna like this,” Mrs. H looked at him with desapproval.
“What are you going to do with me?” He cried with his face
pale as paper.
“I assure you, Sherlock, that you’re going to have
nice ride,” the woman said. “Now get out
“What?! No, no, no,” he cried as he saw Mrs. Hudson
car and its boot opened. There were two man next to it. They were the boys of
“Stop complaining, Holmes, and get into the boot or
I’ll fire on you,” you pushed him
with the gun making sure that you wouldn’t pull the trigger and hurt him. That
was not the idea, you wouldn’t never hurt him. You just wanted to help him…or
at least that was what you were thinking.
“Please, I beg you,” he begged you.
“You’re gonna love
“Oh, yes! Now guys, there you go! Get him into the
bloody boot,” Mrs. Hudson ordered.
“Stop it, Sherlock!” You shouted at him.
Getting Sherlock into the boot was not easy.They had
to drop him twice.
Once in the boot, with his whole body shaking,
Mrs. Hudson and you looked at him.
“D’you know why they dropped you,
dear?” Mrs. Hudson paused for a second to laught at him. “Because they know you.”
Once the landlady said that she’d walked away and got
into the car. Meanwhile, you staring at him whit a dissapointed face.
“When are you gonna learn that getting high is not the
solution to all of your problems?”
Sherlock didn’t say a word so you continued staring at
him and chuckled.
“Oh, Sherlock don’t be afraid! This is gonna be fun!”
you softly laughted. “See you in a few minutes. Bon voyage!” You said and
closed the boot.
You walked away with a satisfying smile on your face. You
peered throught the window of the car. Then you saw Mrs. Hudson in the driver
“Are you going to take care of him, Mrs. Hudson?” You asked
her concerned about Sherlock’s health.
“Of course I’m not!” She scoffed. “Please, get into
the car, my dear. I’m not going to deal with him alone.”
“Mrs. Hudson I don’t think…”
“I said get
into the car!” She yelled and you obeyed her. “Now, put your seatbelt on; this
is going to get rought.”
Suddenly Mrs. Hudson’d started the car and raced down
Baker Street. You couldn’t believe this woman was capable of doing such a
thing. She even broke the law as she drove that fast. The landlady seemed to
have gone off the rails. Mrs. Hudson started driving faster and faster. You looked
through the window and saw a helicopter following you. It was unbelievable. You
even wondered if Sherlock was alright in the bloody boot.
“Oh, dear mine could you open the glove box and take
out a casset? It’s getting boring in
You struggled but immediately found one and pressed it
into the slot. The music started playing. ‘For goodness’ sake!’, you tought as “Ode
to Joy” blared out the speakers.
Then, Mrs. Hudson’s phone rang and she answered while driving. It seemed that she
was not even aware about what was she doing. Your eyes got wide-opened when the
car headed for another roundabout and has been pursued by two police cars.
“Mrs. Hudson, please slow
down! And hang up the phone!” You asked.
“Not now, Y/N. Not now! We needJohn’s help!”
When the second police car
approached from in front, the woman crashed into several plastic bins outside
“Uff…that was amazing!”
She said happily as you looked at her amazed.
Mrs. Hudson got out of the
car and saw John opening the front door. She sighed with relief while you tried
to open the door. Eventually, you got out of the car. The woman turned to John
with a smiling face. Before he could say a word a policeman stormed over from
the police car.
“Right, you there. Stop right where you are,” he
“Mrs. Hudson, please do what he says, you begged but
the landlady ignored you.
“Oh, John!” She exclaimed.
you have any idea what speed you were
going at?” Said the police officer and then she stopped and walked towards
“Well, of course not. I was on
the phone! Oh…by the way it’s for you,” she handed the phone to the man.
“For me?” He inquired.
“Of course it’s you! Don’t be stupid,” she said as you
sighed and put a palm on your face. “It’s the government!”
“The what?!” He cried as he raised the phone to his
You quickly walked towards Mrs. Hudson and John.
“Is that Mycroft, isn’t it?” You asked and pointed at
did you think I was talking to all this time?”
“Look at the state of you, Mrs. H! What have you been doing? By the way, hello,” he greeted
“Hey,” you said breathlessly.
“Mrs. Hudson, have you phoned the police?”
“Of course I didn’t call the police. I’m
not a civilian!” She blurted and he rolled his eyes.
“Could you explain me what was she doing?” He asked
“It’s Sherlock, John!” She stated and began crying. “You’ve
got no idea what we’ve been through!”
“What? You’re joking, aren’t you?” He glanced at you
but you shooked your head. – “Um…look, I’m not in the mood to talk with him.”
“But John!” She protested.
“Nope, Mrs. Hudson. It’s not gonna happen,” he denied as he shook his head.
“He needs you!
Please examine him!” She begged.
“Examine him?” He looked at her astonished and upset. “Someone
else. Not me.”
“But…” she pouted.
“John, please,” you asked him wormly and tilted her
head towards the landlady.
He didn’t say a word, he just sighed and walk towards
“John, John!!” Mrs. Hudson exclaimed frantically as
she followed him right into the house
You rolled her eyes and decided to go and try to
convince him to take a look at Sherlock. John walked along the hall when Mrs.
Hudson stormed out over to him.
“Now you just listen to me for once in you stupid
life. I know Mary’s dead and I know your
heart is broken, but if Sherlock Holmes dies too, who will you have then?” Angry, she pointed with her finger at him. “Because
I tell you something, John Watson. You will not have me.”
After that she decided to walk away, passing Mary, and
head to the door. Mary, who was now John’s hallucination, looked at him.
“Are you really going to let her go like this, John?”
You asked him.
“I guess so. I just tell you something, I am not goin to check Sherlock. End
“John, please. Just do it…” he shook his head. “I know
Mary would do it,” he looked at you speechless and then stared at Mary.
John? She’s right and you know it.”
“What are you looking at?” confused, you asked.
“Wh…what?” he mumbled.
“You just looked at the wall,” he shook his head.
“I was just…I didn’t look at the wall.”
“Yes, you did,” Mary looked at him disappointedly.
“Sorry. What do you want, Y/N?” He asked you firmly.
“Just do what would Mary do. All I ask is that.
Look at me. I’m dead, but if I were alive I woud do what she says.”
“I’m sorry,” he refused.
“Ok, I understand. Just say Mary that I miss her so
much,” you stated and walked out the room.
yes. She knows about me. Now, go on,” she tilted her head towards her with ‘Go
and check him out’ look on her face.
“Y/N,” he tried to stop you but you were already
outside comforting Mr. Hudson.
“It’s ok, Mrs. Hudson, he’ll survive. Or at least I
think so,” you said while you were leaning against the Aston.
“No, he won’t. He needs
John’s help,” she folded her arms on
the car’s roof and has lowered her head onto them and started crying.
“He’ll be alright; I’ll
take care of him. After all, I am doctor too.”
“But you are not
John. You’re just a physician. You would be not capable of ending this mess.”
“Oh, thanks for the compliment,”
you said sarcastically and turned your gaze to the bins Mrs. Hudson just crashed.
“You know, I think that it seems he’s not gonna help us,” you reassured her.
“Yeah, look, okay, maybe, if I get a chance,” they
both turned around to look at him. He appeared all of a sudden.
“D’you promise?” She smiled at him hopefully.
“I’ll try, if I’m in the area.”
“Promise me?” He turned his gaze to you. She was waiting
for an answer with her arms crossed. You seemed to have a ‘Please, help her. I
can’t stand this anymore’ look on your face.
“Thank you!” She said with a smile on her face
and turned around to go and open the boot. “Well, on you go.”
You really wanted to see John’s reaction towards
Sherlock’s body in the boot. But there was no expression on his face at all. The consulting detective had his wrists handcuffed
together and his whole body trembling. His face was pale of horror.
“Examine him! Come on!”
“Mrs. Hudson…”– you murmured.
“Oh, darling you
should be concerned about him more than I
do,” she scolded and you annoyed, softly turned your gaze up to the sky.
“Ok. John?” She asked the army doctor.John glanced at her and
then looked into the boot again where Sherlock lifted his head and peered out.
He was grimacing.
“I can’t. Just look at him.
I cannot do this,” he denied and pointed at Sherlock.
“Yes, you can. You just don’t want to. John, stop
being selfish for once. He needs you. And don’t think I will stop you. He’s
“No, he’s not,” he
shouted and looked at Mary. She was leaning against the car with her arms
“John you’re doing it
again,” he glanced at you. “You are staring at the car.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Stop lying, John Watson. It doesn’t work.”
“Oh, really?!” He
shouted once more.
“John, you’re not ok,” you
paced towards him and put a hand on his cheek. “Go home, take some rest and
phone me when you’ll stop seeing her.”
“I don’t see her.”
“Yes, you do. Please do it.
I’ll check him out. Don’t worry,” John turned his gaze to Mary and sighed.
“No, you won’t. I am
going to do it, because that’s what Mary would do. So I tell you something,
I’ll do it for Mary and Rosie,” he gazed at her warmly. “And of course because
of you. After all, you’re my best friend,” he stated and took Sherlock out the
boot. He grabbed him from the arm tightly and walked towards the house.
“I’m alright, John!” He
“Oh, shut up!” He
“Sherlock, stop it!” You
ordered and looked angrily him in the eyes. “Don’t say a word and do what John
says,” he stared at you as he walked along the hall with John’s hand on his
The doctor stopped walking
when they got in the living room. He took his hand off and looked at him.
“Now listen, you stupid
cock. I’m not gonna help you if you will act as a child as you are doing now. Shut
“I should be
working. This is pointless. Don’t you…”
You walked over him,
stopped in front of him and slapped him.
“Why are you still slap…”
you slapped him once again and he touched his cheek. “I have to admit that
“Don’t you dare to
say that to my friend, you stupid bastard! You are getting us go crazy. Stop
it, Holmes, because if you don’t I bet you you’ll never see us again,” he got
breathless when he stared at you right in the eyes. You were angry and he noticed
it, so he didn’t said a word.
John was walking in circles
while you were checking him out.
“So?” He asked.
“He took heroin,” you
“Since when do you take
“Since you are gone” he
“What the hell do we
have to do with you to stop with this?!” John yellled.
“We’ve been supporting you
all this time, Sherlock Holmes,” the landlady exclaimed.
“Except the boot, Mrs. Hudson. The boot was mean.”
“Please, stop it, Sherlock. Just stop it!” You begged for the sake of all of you. You were sick of
“Oh, no wait, Y/N,” John swallowed
and pointed at the detective. “He’s dying to
tell us something,” he turned to
Sherlock. “but I would only love to know why.”
“Because Mrs Hudson’s right. I’m burning up.
I’m in the bottom of a pit and I’m still falling
and…” he sighed. “… I’m never climbing
out. I need you to know, John…I need you to see that up here…I’ve
still got it, so when I tell you that this…” he pointed to the laptop, which had the newspaper
website open. “…this is the most
dangerous, the most despicable human being that I have ever encountered; when I tell
you that this-this monster must be
“Sherlock, enough!” You scolded.
“No!” He turned around to
face you with an angry face and making gestures his hands. Then, he turned to
John. “Please remember where you’re
standing, because … you’re standing exactly where I said you
would be two weeks ago,” he stopped for second and calmed
himself down. “I’m a mess; I’m in hell; but I
am not wrong, not about him.”
“So what has all this got to do with me?” “That
creature, that rotting thing…”
“Stop it, Sherlock!” You shouted at him once more.
“Don’t you see
what’s going on, Y/N? This monster could
kill anyone, even you!” He walked over you, he finger-pointed at your heart and
whispered. “I bet you don’t wanna get killed, so don’t appal me when I’m trying
to protect all of you. I’m really concerned about this and you know it. So as I
said, this horrible rotting thing…living breathing coagulation of
human evil, and if the only thing I ever do in this world is drive him out of
it, then my life will not have been wasted.” He turned around and stared at John. “John, look at
me. Can’t do it, not now. Not alone,” he looked at him with helpless face.
“You…” John muttered. “…you Sherlock, you are a
liar!” He finally stated.
“Why would I lie
to you?” Sherlock frowned.
“Because you always lie. Always. It seems to be your
“Look, I have been many things, John, but when have
I ever been a malingerer?”
“You pretended to be dead for two years!” He
yelled and they both could see the landlady shed a tear.
“Oh, yes. You did,” you scolded and he began
“… Apart from that?”
“Listen, before I do anything, I need to know what
state you’re in,” John said.
“You both have just checked me!” He protested.
“It is not enough!
We have to be sure if you are clean. I mean look at this scars! God, Sherlock!”
You pushed up the sleeves of his shirt
and the scars showed up. You were really concerned about him. You could have cried
but you tried not to. “You’ve been injecting yourself, didn’t you?”
“Oh for God’s sake!” He
yelled as he shaked his arm just to take your hands off of it.
“We need somebody. Somebody
who unlike me, learned to see through your
bullshit long ago.”
“You mean her,” he finger
pointed at you
“No, Sherlock. That’s not me,”
you corrected him and folded your arms.
“Who’s that, then? I’m sure I would have
“The last person you’d think of,” John said and Sherlock raised an eyebrow.
“I want you to be examined by Molly Hooper,” he
said. Sherlock looked down and bit his
“Did you hear him? He said Molly. Molly Hooper,”
you repeated just to make sure that he heard John.
“You’re really not gonna like
“Like what?” John asked.
The doorbell rang and you looked
at him furiously. “Let me guess,” you said to him and shut him up. “Molly?”
“Two weeks ago,” he
muttered and you cursed under your breath. “If
you’d like to know how I predict the future…”
“I don’t care how,” John said angrily as he
turned to him.
John opened the door and
saw Molly standing in front of him.
“Uhm…hi. Sherlock phoned
“Two weeks ago, right?”
John smiled tightly.
“How do you know that?”
“Take a guess,” he said.
“Oh God!” She exclaimed
when she saw you behind John peering out.
“Yes,” you nodded and John
turned around surprised.
“What happened now?”
“He’s using again,” John
informed her while rubbing his forehead.
“Could you please just
check him out, Molly? The only thing we already know it’s that he has taken heroin,”
you asked her.
“Just check him out,
Suddenly Sherlock stumbled
out into the hall. “Is it she, isn’t it?”
“Sherlock, take a guess,”
you confronted him and he frowned.
“You should better go and
cough. Once you’re done, you’ll go back to Baker Street. And if you don’t I’ll
take you right into the boot again.”
“Why are you so angry with
“We should be asking you why
did you got high, what the hell were you thinking about when you phoned
Molly and what are you doing here,” John scolded.
“Well, I guess the last one
doesn’t need an explanation,” he glared at you so you sighed and rolled
“Let me…” he interrupted
“Come on, Molly. Tell me
when to cough. Hope you remembered to bring my coat.”
“Your coat is in my house, you
cock. You forgot it in the lab last Monday, so I took it for you,” you told
“Since when do I
forget my coat?” He asked himself.
“I don’t know. Oh,
by the way you forgot your scarf too. So I think that’s why you are wearing
what you’re wearing,” you smiled tightly and fakely at him.
“Oh, good Lord!” He sighed
and walked away.
Once outside John and you were watching Sherlock being checked out.
“Do you think he’ll do it
again?” He asked.
“Well…” you mock-shuddered.
“we both got involved with a junkie with an international reputation.”
“Yeah, we did,” he sighed and then looked at you “Was I even sane when I accepted to be his flat-mate?”
“I don’t know. That’s your
problem,” you giggled.
“Uhm…mm…yes but we share
the same problem,” you both chuckled and then he turned his gaze again
at the detective and the pathologist.
“Don’t even mention it,”
“John, is Molly the right person to be doing medicals?
She’s more used to dead people. It’s bound to lower your standards,” asked Mrs.
Hudson as she stepped next to him.
“I don’t know, Mrs. H.”
“And you Y/N? You are a doctor you should have examined
“I already did, but the bastard seems not to understand.”
“So…well…this is the moment when I say goobye,” he
said and started walking towards the house.
“John!” Mrs. Hudson cried. “John Watson, come back
here! John!” She shouted and she
followed him saying his name out loud and ordering him to stop.
“Mrs. Hudson, stop. I’m not…”
“You have to go with him, John. He turned into a
maniac since he discovered that Culverton Smith is a serial killer.”
“Oh, yes. I noticed,” he tightly smiled as he surprisingly
saw Mary. She was there looking at him. Standing on the grass and leaning her back
against the wall got him nostalgic. But all of sudden she spoke to him.
cheer up. The game is on!” She laughted at him.
“No, it’s not,” he replied Mary.
“Sorry?” Confused, the landlady asked him. “John, are
“Of course he’s
fine, Mrs. Hudson,” you said as you walked towards them.
“So if it is true, I beg you to solve this together
“Mrs. Hudson…” he rubbed his nose and put his hand on
“Come on, John,” you chuckled. “The game is afoot!”
“Sorry, what?” he asked as he glanced at Mary.
heard her, John. Go and catch this criminal with our monster. Go on!”
Mary smiled and he smiled back to her. “The
game is afoot!”
Summary: an American forensic psychologist hired by Mycroft Holmes. You thought it would be more interesting and fulfilling than your previous job with a law firm in London but you had no idea how much it would change your life. Or really, how much one person would change everything.
Word Count: 3575
The last few weeks had been tough on you. The signs of Christmas were everywhere and impossible to ignore. You hadn’t been affected like this in years and yet you were missing your parents so much, you were wound up too tight. You had to calm yourself and clear your mind almost every morning once you got into your office, calling on techniques your favorite Psychology professor, Patrick Harding, had given you after your parents’ sudden death during your senior year at the University of Pennsylvania.
You had learned that you could survive more than you thought but it took a toll. Professor Harding ended up being the one to pull you from your funk and get you moving again. He brought books and tons of pamphlets of other psychology programs that fit your interests. He helped you through the stages of grief and guided you toward your saving grace; something to live for.
He brought Shelley by to see you and as hard as you tried to lock up your grief to keep from hurting her, you couldn’t do it but she sat down next to you and rubbed your back. She had learned to control it to a certain extent and she wanted to thank you because if you hadn’t reached out to her and listened then she never would have gotten this far. It had only been three months and you were amazed by her progress.
You left for Oxford only two months later and never left England since except for the few visits back to your alma mater. You had flourished in the new environment and fell in love with the culture that was so much like what you grew up with and yet completely different. That first Christmas had been rough but since then, you had handled it well except for a few stray Christmas Eve’s here and there when you didn’t have work to distract you from the traditions you held with your parents.
This year, however, the heavy feeling in your chest had started earlier than ever and work didn’t seem to make it go away completely. You tried to sort it out and only came up with two conclusions, either you were more worried about this Moriarty business or the thing you thought you were handling was handling you. Either way, you weren’t as in control as you usually were and you were beginning to feel it.
Mycroft hadn’t said a word about Moriarty since you confronted him and you didn’t know if he was still holding him. It was a classified matter and you weren’t needed at the time for any further consultation. You noticed Mycroft’s scrutiny ever since that confrontation as well, especially whenever Sherlock’s name came up. It wasn’t very often but enough for you to take notice and for you to keep your mouth zipped about the fact that Sherlock knew of Moriarty already.
Even though you had done your meditation technique before your appointment with Sherlock, Mycroft was still on your mind as you sat in your chair across from the couch. Sherlock was sitting with his left leg crossed neatly over his right knee. Luckily, his attention was elsewhere as he had rambled about his most recent case but only half-heartedly before he grew quiet and stared toward the window. His face wasn’t in its usual blank slate though because his brow never relaxed.
When Mary went
up, she found her cousin sat on the edge of the bed; the letter still in her
hands. Her pale hands gently held the paper, which contained barely half a page
of writing. Mary hurried forward, sitting beside her cousin. The paper fell
from Molly’s fingers with ease against the touch of Mary’s hand. Reading the
words, Mary felt her mouth go dry. She shook her head, folding the letter away.
“He loved me,
Mary,” she murmured, her voice so small against the space of the room. “I was sure of that.”
The smiley face also becomes a symbol of 221b as Sherlock and John’s home. The flat becomes their sanctuary, the place of comfort and intimacy between the two. 221b becomes fully complete with the smiley face. After the angst of TBB, where Sherlock and John are struggling to find the right pace together and the right place in each other’s lives, 221b becomes a place of happiness. From now on, the smiley face will always be on the wall, no matter what Mrs Hudson says.
The smiley face is the silent proof that John and Sherlock are right for each other and happy together. No matter the difficulties to overcome, or even Sherlock’s betrayal and death-faking, no matter Sherlock being away for two years and John marrying a woman. It doesn’t matter, the smiley face is here to show you: their love is still in the background. 221b as the place of romantic intimacy and happiness still exists. The flat and the smiley face are ready for them to live together again and love each other.
I sincerely believe the first kiss between John and Sherlock will happen in 221b, with the smiley face in the background silently approving. Possibly the camera would progressively focus on it. And it would be quite a lovely symbol to have the smiley face as the show’s last image (or in the last image).
Still on the smiley face of love, I adore the fact that the first image we have of it is Sherlock all sulky and desperate for John’s attention shooting at it!
The smiley face is a symbol of continuity with TBB’s arc: Sherlock is still miserable about his attraction towards John. He doesn’t want to admit it verbally, but apparently, he wants John to understand. He wants John to be all his and stop dating dreadful Sarah. He craves John’s attention, he wants him to see his beautiful yellow declaration“John Watson, you keep me right”.
But John isn’t even here, in the sanctuary of their home, isn’t here to praise Sherlock. Unacceptable! Sherlock will wait for him all heart-broken with a gun in his hand, ready to shoot as soon as he hears the door open. That certainly gives him John’s attention!
Sherlock wants to snarl at John for preferring to spend time with Sarah instead of him. He shoots the smiley face as a passive aggressive attack against his flatmate. “Look, you make me so happy, John, but you’re not here with me all the time so I’ll destroy the symbol of my happiness!” Bonus if you integrate just-sort-of-happened’s idea the bored means “interested”. “I’m unhappy because I’m interested in you and you don’t care about me”
It’s also a way to provoke a fight, making sure John’s undivided attention is on Sherlock and have an intense interaction with him. Fight is passion.
Sherlock manages to make John angry, belittling him and insulting his blog and opinions. He insures the fight, the passion. What he hasn’t understand, though, is that John is all about repressing passion. Instead of spilling his rage on Sherlock (among other things :D), John refuses an intense interaction in the intimacy of their flat. He flees to Sarah’s home, he bottles up his feelings towards Sherlock and protects himself in a heterosexual relationship. John is not ready to face an intimate situation with Sherlock (between two men: homosexual)
After John leaves, Sherlock is heart-broken again, appalled by the “calm, peaceful… isn’t it hateful?” behaviour of the doctor. Cue to Mrs Hudson highlighting the idea of John & Sherlock as an item (a little domestic?). She also makes a reference to the smiley face of love and is angry at the fact he shot at it, that he tries to destroy it. (seriously, I don’t think Hudders is angry about the painting: 1) paintings can be easily cleaned off, 2) she’s always been support #1 of Johnlock). Sherlock makes the fakest smile ever (well, there’s a serious competitor with Mycroft a few minutes later…).
Explosion: Moriarty starts the game. Sherlock is attracted to his “live-in” doctor, he has just drawn a yellow declaration of his love and been left heart-broken for an ordinary woman. The final problem begins: burning the heart out of Sherlock.
Delightful of Jim, really providing a distraction to Sherlock's boredom…The Great Game can begin!