I’ve literally been so busy I started this right after I watch TFP and I haven’t been able to finish it until like now. So here it is, I just had to get it off my chest. Part 1 of 2!
Pairing: Sherlock x Reader
Word Count: 2,632
“You haven’t even let me finish!”
“It’s twins. Solved it last night while you were at the pub.”
“But it’s never twins, you said it yourself it’s never twins!”
“Well this time it is.” He ripped the knives out of the wallpaper and returned
to start over.
“Well that’s it then.” You said, defeated.
“What?” He whipped around, unconsciously aiming a dagger at you.
You threw your hands up in front of your face and grimaced. You wanted to
believe he wouldn’t throw it at you, but with Sherlock you could never be sure.
He looked confused at your reaction until he followed your line of sight. “Sorry,”
he said, lowering the weapon. “What do you mean that’s it then? You’re trying
to tell me you can’t find a case? In all
of London there’s nothing for me?”
“I’m not your secretary,” you said narrowing your eyes. “But no, nothing left
that you want. We’ve been here for three days, Sherlock. I’ve read through
“Three days? No, no it can’t- oh, that’s why John brought the paper in.”
“Paper comes on Tuesday though? We’ve been at it since Wednesday.”
“He only brings it in if it’s been out there for more than 56 hours. He doesn’t
even realize but OCD is a very efficient time keeper.”
You shook off his deduction. Not important.
“So you want me to look outside of London then?”
“What? Yes, yes anywhere, look in the bloody- “
“States? Oh, wow, there’s plenty to keep you busy here.”
The US crime news page seemed to go on forever. Hate crimes seemed to saturate
the list, but those were obvious. Sherlock needed a challenge if you wanted to
keep him out of your hair for a while.
“Here’s one. Has to deal
with the president.”
He threw a knife at the wall and groaned. “No no, he’s an idiot. Next!” Crack.
A second knife splintered the wall.
“Doctors puzzled at rare amnesia cases?”
You searched the article.
“Here it is again. 4 dead in connection with unknown amnesia virus.” “Patients
manic in their last moments, extensive internal bleeding.” “Amnesia virus
contained to one-“ you laughed and shook
“What?” He asked, skimming the article from over your shoulder.
“Did the press ever get hold of what happened at Baskerville?” You turned to
look at him.
“No, Mycroft kept it quiet, no one knew.”
“So no one found out that it was finished? That anyone found out what was
He cocked his head and furrowed his brow.
“Amnesia virus contained to one Indiana
hospital. Liberty hospital on lockdown after outbreak of unknown disease take 5
lives, infects 9 more.”
Sherlock smiled. “Perfect!”
He stabbed the third knife into the arm of your chair, slicing the woven sleeve
of your sweater.
“We need to get you a damn case, I don’t have many sweaters left and I’m not
risking losing an arm.”
“What exactly has he been doing?” John leaned in and asked quietly, to not
disturb the working genius.
“I like to think he’s been packing, but it doesn’t take 13,000 steps in a 50
foot flat to pack for a trip to America. You ready then?”
He nodded, glancing over at the luggage by the door.
“I’ll grab mine.”
“Yea, cab should be ready soon.” He glanced down at his watch. “We’re going to
be late, Sherlock, what the hell are you doing in there?”
He walked out with a small day bag and his face buried in his cell phone,
nearly walking right into John.
“What have you been doing in there?” Mrs. Hudson said frowning. “Sounded like
you were running a marathon. Gonna wear a hole in my rug if you don’t get a
change of scenery.”
A smile snuck onto her lips as Sherlock gave her a tight squeeze goodbye.
She gave you a hug as you collected your luggage. “Keep him safe, will you
“I’ll try my best,” You giggled as you walked out of the flat.
You loaded your luggage into the cab and squeezed in beside Sherlock.
Once you boarded your flight, you settled in. You decided confidently that’d
you’d try to take a nap, after sitting through not one, but three of the documentaries
provided by the airline. There were seven hours left on the flight; maybe
there’d be something better on later. You put in your headphones and,
thankfully, started dozing off right away. Your head bobbed gently against the
back of your chair, your breathing slowed, and your music drowned out the
roaring of the engines.
Light turbulence nudged you awake. You brought your watch close to your tired
eyes to read the time. 3 hours left.
“I slept for 4 hours? On a plane? Well I was surprisingly comfortable…”
Your cheeks turned red. You must’ve rested your head on Sherlock’s shoulder
without knowing. You wanted to move softly, so he didn’t notice anything, but
when you tried, you felt pressure holding you down. His breathing was soft. He
must’ve fallen asleep on you, too. The cabin was dark, the music played softly
in your ears. You were the most comfortable you’ve been in years, and you fell
back to sleep.
Sherlock stirred gently as the plane began its descent. You followed suit,
clearing your throat and turning your head to the open window to your right.
Your eyes squinted as you greeted the bright blue sky and the growing buildings
“So how exactly are we going to get into this hospital to get the information
we need?” John asked, munching on an order of French fries. “I mean, it’s on
lockdown, we can’t exactly just walk in.”
“Well, the story did say the only people who seemed to get infected were those
prone to seizures, didn’t it? They thought it had something to do with the
medicine.” Sherlock nodded, cocking his head.
“Don’t panic.” You whispered to the two. Suddenly, you froze. Your eyes seemed
to gloss over as you locked your muscles and threw yourself from your chair.
You seized on the floor, voluntary spasms shaking your entire body. Sherlock
and John followed along beautifully.
“Oh my god, oh my God!” John yelled as Sherlock called an ambulance. “Is anyone
here a doctor, my God what the hell is happening to her?!” He exclaimed,
drawing the attention of at least two dozen onlookers. A woman rushed to your
“I’m a doctor. Everyone stand back. She needs space and air. She’s having a
seizure. No one touch her. Do you know her?”
“Yes, yes she’s my best friend. She’s never done this before!” The woman held
“She’s fine, she’ll be fine, you friend is calling an ambulance. We just have
to wait until then.”
The EMTs arrived quicker than anticipated. By then, you were fine, but John
insisted on them taking you in anyway, since the fit was “totally out of the
blue, unpredicted, and terrifying if it were to happen again.” They agreed, and
loaded you into the ambulance.
“Where are we going? Which hospital?” You asked “weakly”.
“Miami Valley, mam.”
“Why not Liberty Regional?”
“Well, that’s about 45 minutes away.”
“Huh. Good to know.” You sat up in the gurney and gave a swift kick, sending
the EMT flying back. “Sherlock, the driver!” You ordered. “Get some scrubs on,
Doctor Watson. We have a long ride ahead of us.”
Sherlock sent the driver tumbling out of the cabin and took his place. You
pulled up a map to Liberty Regional for him and sped off.
“Well that didn’t go
exactly as I planned. When was the last time you didn’t pull the doctor card?”
He shrugged. “All worked out though.”
Sherlock whipped through the ambulance dock, opening the back doors to help
lower you out.
“You can’t be here, the whole place is on lockdown.” A nurse tried to shoo you
“Your higher up seemed to tell us different.” John said sternly. “I called it
in already. Said to take a look at her.” The woman was convinced. “She’s had a
seizure. She’s alright, just had a bit of a fright. First one, you know how
“If she’s scared about that, she’ll be petrified once she gets the bill.” The
nurse laughed as she brought you in, taking you through the almost completely
“Where is everyone?” You asked.
Well, not to worry you, but there’s been an outbreak of something, so we
haven’t been accepting new patients. In the process of evacuating them actually.
It’s contained to a few rooms, though. You’ll be fine.”
She wheeled you into a dim room and helped you onto the bed. “A doctor will be
right in to talk to you. You shouldn’t be here for too long.”
As promised, a doctor and nurse, both masked walked in with a drip feed and
clipboard, shutting the door behind him. The bag was labeled ‘SALINE 1.2 mg dos’.
“Hello.” He said quietly from behind the mask. “I apologize, for this. I’d much
rather be face to face-“ he said, moving uncomfortably close you “-but as you
must’ve heard, there’s been a sort of outbreak here. We’re working very hard to
keep everyone safe and prevent his from spreading.”
Your blood ran cold. It was Culverton Smith. You hid your accent as best as you
could to prevent any possibility of him catching on to your plan.
“Not doing too well of a
job though are you? I heard it spread to what, 9 people now?”
He became noticeably
agitated. He didn’t expect your response. That just meant he had to work
quicker. He laughed it off.
“That’s not exactly my area.”
“Well who’s is it? No one
knows what caused it, so who’s in charge of it? Neurology? Virology? The
janitors?” You cursed yourself in your mind. You’re slipping. You just couldn’t
help it. You laughed to help lighten the tension, and he followed suit.
“So what I hear is, you’ve
had a seizure?” He was anxious to change the subject.
You nodded. “It was my first one, ever. No one in my family has them either.”
He motioned for a nurse to hook you up to the IV. You
started to panic.
“Is this really necessary? I thought I’d just be coming in
for a consultation, a checkup.”
“Oh no, sorry. You’ll need to stay overnight, maybe for
about a week. We need to conduct some follow-up tests, you know, make sure
you’re not infected.”
Your heart raced.
“You read the news, didn’t you? “Strange amnesia virus
infects seizure patients.” This hospital isn’t accepting new patients. So how
exactly did you get in here? Well by faking a seizure of course! You wanted to
find out the cause, so you could help find a cure, didn’t you? Well, relax.
I’ll tell you my little secret.” He dropped the mask and the fake accent. “Oh,
I am sorry though, this saline that’s flooding your system right now, isn’t
saline. It’s a memory inhibitor. Blocks new ones, kind of dissolves old ones
too I’m afraid. Take notes, you won’t be able to remember any of this in the
morning, if you even live that long.” He laughed again, standing up. “Well,
this is lovely, but I’ve got another patient to tend to. And try not to scratch
at the IV, leaves a nasty scar.” He returned the mask to his face, and he and
the nurse disappeared out the door.
You looked around the room, your memory fading. Anxiety rose
up within you, but you couldn’t remember why. You glanced down at your arm, the
small needle stuck in your vein.
The IV. The IV. The
IV. Those words reverberated in your mind, but you just couldn’t remember why.
Suddenly, Sherlock and John busted through the door,
shutting it quietly and locking it behind them.
They were frantic, flying over to your side and bombarding
you with questions about why you had an IV in, what the doctor said, and what
was going on.
“Wait,” you quieted them, bringing your hands to
Sherlock and John shared a panicked glance before you decided.
“He said it was something to do with… Agh! I can’t remember, it was something
with seizure patients, but we knew that already! uh…”
“I can’t remember!” You cried. Your eyes frantically searched the familiar
faces for a shred of a memory, something to remind you what was Culverton’s
plan. Sherlock grabbed you by the shoulders and met your eyes, following them
around the room.
“Can you remember anything?” He
pressed, his face twisting in fear of the unthinkable.
You shook your head, then suddenly stopped. your eyes seemed to gloss over for
a second, fixated on a distant point in the hallway. You came to, and pulled
away from his grip, wiping your eyes and studying the men in front of you. “What
are you talking about? Remember anything about what?” You replied, dryly.
The color drained from Sherlock’s face. He swallowed hard. His worst fear had
come true. First it was Mary. Now you. He promised he’d keep you safe on any
case the two of you went on. And now you were hours before dying, and there was
nothing he could do about it without giving in to the one man Sherlock feared.
John stepped in, pushing Sherlock aside. “Yes, Ms. (Y/N), is it? Doctor Watson.”
He shook your hand. “You have been sent here because of an accident you had.”
He picked up a blank clipboard that rested at the bottom of your bed. “You fell
off a ladder and hit your head? That could be the reason why you don’t
remember, blunt force trauma could lead to unconsciousness, memory loss. It’s
all very common and nothing to be worried about.” A look of relief crossed your
face. “Let’s just get a quick look at that. Would you mind leaning forward for
me?” You obeyed, sitting up and leaning over. He brushed the hair off your
shoulder and stabbed a syringe into your arm.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing?! Who are you?! I’m going to call… security,
and you'll… you’ll be…. arrested… and lose…” Your shoulders fell limp and your
head bobbed forward as you lost consciousness. Sherlock rushed to you, but John
held him back.
“She’ll be fine. Just a tranquilizer. It’ll slow her heart rate, keep her in
one spot for a while. But we have to work quickly.”
Sherlock nodded, backing away. A call rang in on the landline on the bedside
table. With a deep breath, John answered.
“Hello?” He said, clearing his throat. He handed it over. An unsteady hand took
it, greeted by a wicked laugh on the other end.
“What the hell is this?” Sherlock yelled through gritted teeth.
“Just a little game of mine. I heard you like games, Mr. Holmes.” His mind was
clouded, but still useful. The accent was American, but fake. Crooked teeth
interrupted the flow of speech. An echo, a beeping, a heart rate monitor.
Two heart rate monitors.
A second voice piped up inaudibly in the background
“Oh, I’m afraid I have to go, Mr. Holmes. Someone needs my care.”
The distinct loading of a gun. A terrified plea. A single shot. A dull thump.
John turned in the direction of the noise down the hall.
“Come get me, Mr. Holmes, before I win the game.” The laugh resumed before
cancelling the call. Sherlock tore the phone from the table in audible
frustration, shattering it against the far wall.
He turned and saw John, focused like a bloodhound on a scent, waiting for a
command. “This way.” He urged.
The pair raced towards the sound, slamming the door behind them.
After series 4, I think I am not the only one wondering about that. I am so eager to solve this riddle of a season that I decided to rewatch every episode as often as required to figure things out (TST about 5 and a half times by now, still discovering some things); may be masochistic, but here I am, more sure than ever that we are fooled by Moftiss and that our theories are far from wrong.
(Note: I still have not made an in depth analysis of every episode yet - so, in the following days, I will probably add a lot of things.)
So, I am going to make a list of the things that bugged me the most, beginning with TST:
In depth comparison: “The Six Thatchers” - blog entry and episode
Okay, so let’s take a look at the blog entry first:
(Note: I coloured the characters yellow, relationships red, significant details blue and the a significant repetition purple.)
First, I want to clarify one thing: This case
is not just any random case that the show puts no emphasis on and can be dismissed due to the “John Watson is no longer updating his blog”-line; in A Scandal in
Belgravia, it is actually shown while John points out that the blog-counter is
stuck at 1895 – the year of Oscar Wilde’s trial and the year that John and Sherlock are always stuck in. It is also the year TAB takes place in - Mark put great emphasis on that. Thus, may we assume that TST is similar to TAB - is someone stuck in a Victorian fever dream?
Next aspect: mirroring. I tried very hard figuring out who is who in our love triangle. Sherlock was the easiest one:
Sally Barnicot: “barn” is clear. “i cot” is Italian, meaning “the crib”. Who is referred to being like a child over and over again and to a suffering Christ-figure? Sherlock, right. Furthermore, Sally’s first name has the same first letter as Sherlock’s: an “S”.
But then, I struggled a bit. At that time I was very convinced of Alibi Theory, and I still am, but the whole mirroring of this blog entry is totally messed up, because:
Beppo Rovito: “vito” is Italian and means
“brambleberry”. That is fantastic. Well, if you do not understand here, I am referring to Rebekah’s video “The Blogs and more” (which, unfortunately, is no longer available on YouTube, because xe took most of xer brilliant videos down :/). So, a short summary on this “brambleberry”-thing: Hardly anyone knows about that deleted scene from TRF; originally, Moriarty
would talk about how much John means to Sherlock and compare him to a
brambleberry, meaning someone who comes in between a couple – in this case
Moriarty and Sherlock. Considering the facts that Beppo and Pietro are already
a couple and Beppo is not involved with Sally at all, it means: Mary is Beppo.
Pietro Venucci: He is the victim that had “a fiery
relationship” with Beppo a.k.a. Mary. So, who had a fiery relationship with Mary,
indeed? John. He is the only one left in this triangle.
Meaning: We have a fiery love triangle (amo vs. ammunition): Sherlock who is secretly in love with John, John whose heart gets broken by Mary (not just by means of her A.G.R.A.-past), and Mary who is messing things up. Every time Sherlock and John seem to be getting closer, Mary comes in between. Because of all this, the Watsons’ marriage is horrible. Sherlock is the only one knowing the truth about John’s heartbreak and fully innocent regarding it (see TLD’s final scenes; god, I just realised that I wrote this meta not knowing about TLD at all and getting that aseaffageads). Mary pretends not to see it - at least in public. (Don’t know if the fact that there is also homosexuality is worth noting, but I just leave it here if you want to draw your own conclusions on it.)
If you believe in the unreliable narrator theory, I tried to reconstruct the true events of TST with all of this in mind (while I have to admit, I am not sure what the Thatcher-bust is a symbol for, so I just left it in there): Sherlock and John have actually been working together the whole time. It was not Sherlock hiding in the house containing the last Thatcher-bust, it was John. Mary broke in and grabbed the bust. John called Sherlock to join him. Mary smashed the bust, revealing an A.G.R.A.-memory-stick (maybe revealing her true evil colours to John?), and tried to destroy it (or evidence/witnesses, ergo trying to kill John (maybe by shooting at him)?), but Sherlock and John were able to stop her from doing so. Mary confessed about her past and broke John’s heart. - PLOT-GAP - John leaves Sherlock (maybe metaphorically, as in “he is shot and dying”?).
I also thought about this whole event being about Ajay and Mary, not John and her, but, personally, I gave up on it (does not mean you cannot try to make something of it if you want to).
There are two details though, that fit EMP theory: the river and the sound of a window breaking. The river fits the weird water transitions we get all over TST, first when Sherlock is staring at the Wellsboroughs’ Thatcher shrine; if all of this is happening while Sherlock has been reading through John’s blog on the plane, it makes perfect sense that he throws in this tiny detail and exaggerates its extents (”couldn’t resist a touch of the dramatic”, see the lack of information we get about mafia-boss!Ricoletti and the massive amount of information we get about Mindpalace!Ricoletti). The “window breaking” is a good example for that, too: When Ajay and Sherlock fight, they break a window - very Bond-ish.
Let’s take a short look at the comments: theimprobableone (suspected to be Moriarty) is stressing how “disappointingly simple” this case was and Jacob Sowersby (Sherlock’s fan no. 1) says the exact opposite. Who are we to believe? If this is reference to the ARG - well, I leave you to your deductions …
let’s look at the obvious, yet modified similarities between this version of
The Six Thatchers and the version of the episode:
“Harker”: In the blog entry, there is a Horace Harker who is the victim’s art lecturer telling John about the busts and saying that they have already been taken. He is alive. In the episode, Orrie Harker is Ajay’s only murdered burgulary victim (throat cut) who owns two of the busts as the only person (all the others have one - on the blog entry, everyone owns just one, too). Orrie’s name appears on screen with this additional information: “Invoice: 5869″, 59 skip-coded, which is reference to Shakespeare’s Sonnet 59. Also note the gender switching that resembles the one from TAB: Peter Ricoletti from TRF and Emilia Ricoletti from TAB. So, in both TAB and TST, we are introduced to two characters
whose last names have already appeared on the show. The question is: Who is/are Ricoletti,
who is/are Harker? Peter Ricoletti is a mafia-boss who Sherlock put to prison and who we do not get to know much about. Emilia Ricoletti offers way more information: She fakes her suicide in order to come back and shoot her husband, then orders a friend to kill her, is part of a conspiracy for women rights, sacrifices herself for a greater good and scares everyone with her ghost story. Knowing that, I thought of something: We have general similarities occurring to both Harkers and Ricolettis; the creators blur the truth into something else by redefining certain elements as are: a) switching gender, b) putting more emphasis on side characters, c) adding details that already showed up in real life in
a different context.
the Thatcher-busts: In the blog entry, they are made by Pietro who hates Thatcher due to her homophobic attitude and turned them into a satire by putting devil horns on Thatcher’s head; after Pietro’s death, they are given to six friends and acquaintances of Pietro’s; Harker is getting none. In the episode, they are manufactured in Georgia and sold to five unrelated fans of Thatcher, including Harker. Again, this could be traced back to EMP theory.
To be honest, I wrote more than 50 pages meta in total about TST in the time between TST and TLD, trying to solve this riddle, and I am still far from finished (guess I’ll never will be). Hopefully, one day, things will be resolved, so I can sleep well again.
(I will add things to this meta in the next days.)
Molly can see Sherlock.
Sherlock can’t read through Molly.
Whilst everybody knows how she feels about him, he was oblivious up until she risked her career to help him fake his own death (and let’s point out how badly she had been treated by Sherlock only few hours before he asked for her help).
The point is, John is Sherlock’s heart because he put feelings back into his life (and… you don’t really love your own heart, do you? You need it desperately to survive and to feel) and Sherlock is gradually getting to understand other’s emotions. That’s why he opens up to Molly in S3. He’s grateful and now aware of what her love is truly capable of, and he respects it.
That’s basically why I have very high hopes for S4.
In Crimson And Noir | Chapter One (An Adlock Fanfiction)
(A/N: I haven’t written chaptered fics in a while so this is getting me nervous. Some of these will have callbacks or references to one-shots and personal headcanons that I have about Adlock, so if you’ve been reading my works for a while, then you might catch them. Enjoy! <3 )
Sherlock never really imagined he would dream of such, but even after months of what happened in Sherrinford, he still finds himself waking up in the middle of the night, breathless in memory of that vivid day.
Baker Street was eerie with silence, the ticking of the clock in pace with the sound of his own heart. He was slick with sweat from the crimson trails crossing his vision, and the contrast of the room’s darkness was making things worst. It was like he was in a constant state of unrest, body exhausted even if he was fresh from a deep slumber.
There was a certain dread that was at the pit of his stomach, of yearning and despair wrapped into this abyss of emotion that he couldn’t put his finger on, and in the cold and desperate night, one face flashed in his mind.
Knowing that his sister left her out of their game was his source of light every time he wakes from his nightmares, an unadmitted relief washing through his entire body. She was going through enough as it is, and to be dragged into another conundrum as orchestrated by his own kin would feel too much even for him.
Besides, he couldn’t stand the idea of losing her because of his own recklessness. With his mind fleeting to Mary, he ran his fingers over his damp hair in exasperation. He’s had enough with grief.
And he hasn’t talked to The Woman yet about that night when he seeked for her company, that fateful night when the world came crashing down along with Mary Watson. It was a moment of weakness that he had shared with her, a devastating loss and the feeling of sickening isolation that drove him to the one person whose death, or more like fake death, also punctured him to the core.
His mind reeled, looking at the time on his phone flashing just a few minutes past two in the morning, and he wondered if she was also as restless as he was. Still, with his fingers trying hard to not unlock his phone and dial her number, he sighed and went to search his bedside drawer instead, letting out as sigh as he patted three nicotine patches onto his skin.
Why can’t the sun seep through the windows fast enough?
“Sherlock… Still having nightmares?” John asked as he sipped his coffee.
There was no use in denying, for the doctor had also confessed he had his fair share of bad dreams. Sherlock sighed and nodded at the same time.
“You know… Talking to someone helps. A bit.” his friend offered, unconvincingly.
“I’m talking to you. And we have our cases. That’s all I need.” he replied, biting back the rather nasty retort he had in his head. He’s learned to practice control and a little bit of sympathy after…well… after the humbling experience with Eurus.
John simply shrugged and went back to scrolling through his laptop, And yet despite his friend’s attempt to show interest in the news headlines, Sherlock could easily read through his glassy expression.
“Ho– How about you, John? The new therapist helping you well?” he tried to inject more curiosity in his tone, despite his mind whispering what he already knew.
John gave a soft laugh. “Last I checked, she’s not related to you so… I guess that’s good.”
Sherlock smiled back at the joke, trying to cover up the idea that it pained him to see so clearly how John was always at the brink of breaking down, eyes still focusing on one spot of the room and then the other. And he knew exactly why: the doctor continues to see his wife. And no therapist, or any other person, could amount to taking away that kind of burden and pain – Sherlock believes that it is one of the few things about emotions that he had come to understand.
The very reason why he regretted being a little too welcoming towards their new client.
Hi! Yesterday i got myself into a discussion with some non-believers, of a feminist aware kind, whose main argument against tjlc seemed to be that it's 2016 we can request representation in more than just subtext. They made me feel, not only like a queerbaited fool, but also like I put myself down by being happy with representation in just the subtext. This kept me up at night and I would like someone elses thoughts on it. Also do you think we ever will get to hear them say out loud "I'm gay/bi"
Honestly, I think it’s a waste of time to engage in discussions with people who don’t believe or think the whole thing is queerbaiting. The WHOLE POINT of the subtext is to warm people up to the idea of it being made text. In 2010, when this series first started, gay marriage was still illegal in the UK and the world was new to the idea of it all being socially acceptable. IT ONLY BECAME LEGAL TWO YEARS AGO (2014) for same sex marriage in the UK, and LAST YEAR in ALL STATES IN THE US. Your acquaintances say this because they’re talking like this series started in the NOW. Certainly, if this series was started this year, then yes, agreed, no need for the subtext. But in 2010, it just… was more difficult. So, as both men are masters of subtext, they decided to warm up the audience instead to the idea of John and Sherlock inevitably being together, and in the end make the audience demand they end up together, kind of like it was done in one of their favourite films, The Princess Bride, which Sherlock coincidentally has a lot in common with (and what do we say about coincidences?).
I know the argument is old, but it is still valid – ask these people one thing: if one or the other main protagonist was a woman, is it subtext then? There’d be no mistaking that John or Sherlock were openly flirting with one another. There’s NO subtext in that, at least! The flirting is only subtext because some homophobic asshats are insisting on this series being a bromance. Mark Gatiss, a gay man who is actively involved in supporting rights of LGBT+ people and positive portrayals of LGBT+ characters in the media, would not just… queerbait. And Steven Moffat has openly gay and bi characters in his other show, Doctor Who and he is SO hard up on being the one to make these classic characters be together at last. AND their favourite adaptation of Sherlock Holmes ever is The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes, a movie that the writer, Billy Wilder, has openly come out to say that his Holmes was gay, but because of the laws and time period, he just couldn’t do that. In this day and age, to say that a show which has so much queercoding will eventually lead to nothing is so ridiculous. There is a long game at work here, and I honestly think it is some of the most brilliant storytelling I’ve ever come across.
Like I said, Moffat is just JUMPING at the chance to make them a couple (show your friends the Unaired Pilot and ask them to come back to you… John and Sherlock, by now, would be married in Sussex with bees and 4 dogs if they continued down THAT train). In fact, it’s MARK who is holding him back (SPOILERS!). He couldn’t wait so he made his own gay Holmes and Watson in Doctor Who, and test ran a storyline in the latest season. Mark wants to tell a beautiful love story; Steven just wants them to get together already (this is my headcanon and I’m sticking to it!).
As for my opinion on if they will come outright and say they’re gay / bi? THEY SHOULDN’T HAVE TO by the end of all this. THIS is what the subtext is for; this is what it’s trying to accomplish. Mofftiss want us to root for the heroes to end up together. Mofftiss want to normalize queer relationships and they’re choosing two of the most prominent literary heroes in history to do it. They want to make a queer relationship just like any het couple you see on TV. When people watch a movie or television, people automatically assume the male and female characters are just incidentally going to be together by the end; THIS is the goal Mark and Steven are trying to achieve, that ANY two people will be assumed to be in a relationship by the end of the series. I honestly don’t think Mofftiss will ever have the characters say it; they’re going to make it explicitly clear by the end of the series that John and Sherlock are together. However, I think the possibility of John correcting someone by saying “I’m actually bi” to parallel his “I’m not actually gay” has a high probability to happen. because some people still think that bisexuality isn’t real. But other than that, I don’t think they’ll make Sherlock come out and say he’s gay; a blind man can see he’s been coded gay since day one and not interested in women, and I honestly think that this coding will be amped up in S4 now that Sherlock has come to terms with his sexuality / love and need for John in TAB. Sherlock shouldn’t have to be a stereotype, but BEN chose the way Sherlock acted when he was drunk and without his guards up in TSo3. BEN. Not Mofftiss. BEN. Because he thought that’s how Sherlock really is (though I can’t remember if the quote ended there or “when he’s drunk”). I’m sure Mofftiss obviously had input into it, obviously, but still people argue that Ben and Martin would never go for it.
TSo3 was the gayest episode to ever gay before TAB, and it was supposed to be the most hetero thing ever. Really, if your acquaintances can’t see that, there’s honestly no helping them. I know from personal experience that people stuck in a heteronormative view of the world or are bigots will not budge from a straight reading of the show; I worked with someone who thought TSo3 made no sense, while my sister’s boyfriend thought it was ‘funny’. Right, the most depressing episode on this side of TRF is ‘funny’. Okay.
I’m putting my money on the series ending like TAB did, only in modern times (because Mofftiss LOVE THEIR GODDAMNED PARALLELS) with the two of them talking and chatting, and Sherlock gets up from his chair and goes to sit on John’s lap, “Just the two of us against the rest of the world?”, “Yeah.”, and they start kissing, camera pans out the window to overlook London.
It would LITERALLY BE Sherlock’s dream come true. I’m sentimental like that.
No, it’s not queerbaiting, it’s heterobaiting.
Mofftiss want queer relationships to be the norm.
People shouldn’t HAVE to say what their sexuality is. It’s no one’s business but you and your chosen partner’s. But because the world is so stuck on heteronormativity, people will assume unless a flashing neon sign is in their face.
Your acquaintances are poopy-heads.
Johnlock is canon and all is right in the world.
Genny, honestly, don’t let it keep you up at night. Representation IS important, I agree, and you should NOT be ashamed of being proud that one of history’s greatest Sherlock Holmes adaptations is finally going to get it right! That a 7-Emmy Award Winning Show with A-List Actors is doing that for you. That you can relate to the troubles of the characters. That you feel special because finally, FINALLY someone has listened to you.
DO NOT FEEL ASHAMED. You are amazing and beautiful. These acquaintances of yours are toxic to your mental health. Please be safe. Personally, I don’t think you should associate with them anymore if this is a common occurrence, them making you feel like this. Please, and this goes for everyone, never hesitate to PM me anytime in the chat; I don’t want you to ever feel like you are not important. I think you’re important, and it only takes just one person. 💜
For anyone in need of solid Johnlock after this mess...
For anyone in need of solid Johnlock after this mess, for anyone wanting to forget s4 and bury yourself in a different canon, I recommend you check out @johnlockish .
Johnlockish is an RP blog. It was started before series 3 came out, so there’s nothing from series 3 or 4 in there despite its long run (over 3 years - they’re now on hiatus). And they wrote it how it should have been written.
They begin with the aftermath of Sherlock’s return (post-s2) and go through John and Sherlock realizing their feelings and navigating a relationship, realistically working out their issues, (eventually) married life, and more, I could go on, it’s all there. Johnlock, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff, angst, slow burn, everything.
Their writing is GORGEOUS and wonderfully in-character. Everything is on one cohesive blog so it’s easy to follow, just like a fic (Sherlock is in italics, John in plain text). They took questions as an RP blog, but also wrote texts to one another/wrote quality fic to fill in gaps readers aren’t privy to or to emphasise things in the blog.
And as I said, they wrote (in real-time) for 3 years. They’re on hiatus right now and left the option open of coming back, but they left it at a good stopping place with a fic and a sign off from John that seems fitting. Not to mention, there’s so much content there - years worth of it - to read and bury yourself in.
They are the epitome of good pure balanced Johnlock for me. And I don’t say that lightly. I highly recommend checking them out.
Here is a link to the very beginning (the first post is at the bottom of that page). Don’t click on the ‘plot’ button because that will take you chronologically through the blog, but only the very important bits tagged ‘plot’. It doesn’t include most of the other character/fun bits in between (it was used so people could catch up quickly).
it’s 4 am at 221b and sherlock is working on his best man speech, the papers are all spread out on the floor among pencils and scissors. he’s writing and writing and eventually he start to just let it flow out; his feelings and love and innermost scorching emotions, everything he has ever wanted to tell john
it’s 5 am at 221b and sherlock reads through the love letter he has written, blinks away that stinging sensation in his chest and throws it all in the open fire
“John and Mary are going to be in the front with us, right?” you asked Sherlock, mindlessly reading through letters of ‘congrats’ from family members, old classmates, and plenty of criminals you put in prison while in the United States. Odd. Sherlock scanned through his own cards, eyes furrowed in concentration.
“Of course,” he mumbled, rubbing the temple on his head. “Where do you want your parents?”
“Beside your parents.” You shuffled up the cards. “And you asked John to be your best man?”
He chuckled, looking up at you. “Yes, but I believe he’s still getting over the fact I proposed.”