1. The Cost of Allowing Someone to Write Your Story: Major Sholto, Sherlock, and The Reichenbach Fall

 (Sherlock Meta by stephisanerd)

(Note: Trigger warning— suicide/suicidal intention. Contains spoilers for The Empty Hearse and The Sign of Three.  This is my interpretation not only of Sherlock’s interactions with Major Sholto, but of his actions at the end of The Reichenbach Fall, and throughout The Empty Hearse.)

Sherlock: Major Sholto?
Major Sholto: So – I was to be killed by my uniform. How appropriate.
Mary: He solved the case, Major. You’re supposed to open the door now. A deal is a deal.
Major Sholto: I’m not even supposed to have this any more. They gave me special dispensation to keep it. I couldn’t imagine life out of this uniform. I suppose – given the circumstances – I don’t have to. When so many want you dead, it hardly seems good manners to argue.
John: Whatever you’re doing in there, James, stop it, right now. I will kick this door down.
Major Sholto: Mr. Holmes, you and I are similar, I think.
Sherlock: Yes, I think we are.
Major Sholto: There’s a proper time to die, isn’t there?
Sherlock: Of course there is.
Major Sholto: And one should embrace it when it comes – like a soldier.
Sherlock: Of course one should, but not at John’s wedding. We wouldn’t do that, would we – you and me? We would never do that to John Watson.

* * *

A man is standing there, preparing to almost, but not quite, take his own life. It doesn’t require outright suicide—just a decision to let it happen, to embrace the fact that people want him dead and gone. The media and everyone else blame Major Sholto for what happened, for all of his recruits dying, and it has worn him down.  People want him dead because of who and what he is.  The easiest course would be  to go along with it—prove them right  and die in disgrace, especially since his very presence puts everyone else in danger.  It doesn’t have to happen; it could be prevented, but someone already wrote the story. Why not embrace it?

Does that sound at all familiar?  It should.  It’s a story we’ve all heard before.

Sherlock: … unless I kill myself – complete your story.
Jim: You’ve gotta admit that’s sexier.
Sherlock: And I die in disgrace.
Jim: Of course. That’s the point of this.

You and I are similar, I think, Major Sholto tells Sherlock. He’s not wrong. Sherlock may not have actually died, but he climbed up onto that ledge. He was believed to be guilty of kidnapping, of staging crimes for himself to solve even by most of the people close to him. When so many want you dead, it hardly seems good manners to argue.  It wouldn’t take much to complete the thing, and so he called John—one of the few people left who still believed in him, said his goodbyes and jumped.

We, as the audience, know that it’s not quite what it seems—while John sees senseless suicide, we know that’s he not actually dead and that he ostensibly did it to protect John, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade. We find out that Mycroft had a plan. Every potential scenario was worked out.  While Sherlock had to appear to die, his actions weren’t all necessary. Faking his death in the manner that he did (and everything he did afterward) was a choice. Sherlock accepted Mycroft’s plan and Moriarty’s narrative and let them dictate his actions.

John: Well, probably one of the killers you managed to attract …Jesus. Jesus. She’s dying, Sherlock. Let’s go.
Sherlock: You go. I’m busy.
John: Busy?
Sherlock: Thinking. I need to think.
John: You need to …? Doesn’t she mean anything to you? You once half killed a man because he laid a finger on her.
Sherlock: She’s my landlady.
John: She’s dying …You machine.  Sod this. Sod this. You stay here if you want, on your own.
Sherlock: Alone is what I have. Alone protects me.
John: No. Friends protect people.
…
Jim: Your friends will die if you don’t.
Sherlock: John.
Jim: Not just John. Everyone.
Sherlock: Mrs. Hudson.
Jim: Everyone.
Sherlock: Lestrade.
Jim: Three bullets; three gunmen; three victims. There’s no stopping them now.
—

John: Please, this is no time for games. Just let us in! You’re in danger!
Major Sholto: So are you, so long as you’re here. Please, leave me. Despite my reputation, I really don’t approve of collateral damage.

Though the phone-call about Ms. Hudson is a ruse, Sherlock sees the truth in it. He recognizes that John is in danger, so he not only lets him leave, he baits him into doing so. He recognizes now that his clever battle of wits with Moriarty has had far too many casualties and near casualties.  All of the crimes Moriarty staged for him,  and that he was involved in. The old woman, and the people in that block of flats.  John.  The kidnapped children.  He feels the weight of that.  And as he soon finds out, John, Ms. Hudson, and Lestrade all would have been collateral damage in Moriarty’s scheme this time.  As long as he is alive, they still might be—Sherlock’s connection to his friends puts them all in danger. It’s all because of who he is. He believes what both he and John say.  He believes that alone will protect him, but he also believes that it will protect his friends, and so he finishes the story that Moriarty has written.  He calls John, and confesses that he is a fake.  Please leave me.  I really don’t approve of collateral damage.

With the story now complete, Sherlock jumps. And Sherlock’s version of events, if you accept it to be true or mostly true, reinforces how unnecessary what he does to John is; how unnecessary it all is. He reveals that the sniper trained on John saw the staging of the thing and was invited to reconsider making it deeply debatable whether John needed to see it all happen. (1)  Unnecessary. For the plan to work, maybe John still needed to convincingly play the part of the grieving friend, but Molly, Mycroft, Sherlock’s parents, and at least 25 members of Sherlock’s homeless network knew that Sherlock was alive. Unnecessary. Sherlock’s parents didn’t even attend the funeral. If the end game was that everyone needed to believe that Sherlock was dead, why wouldn’t his parents need to visibly play the part as well? Unnecessary. Was there any reason that John really needed to believe that Sherlock was dead when so many others didn’t? Any real reason that John needed to grieve him? (2)

For all that Sherlock may have believed he was doing the right thing, that he was protecting John, he is not adept at judging the emotional cost of his actions.  He rarely realizes or cares how his actions affect those around him.  He doesn’t recognize the weight of the emotional trauma he occasionally inflicts—he sets up the experiment in the lab in The Hounds of Baskerville to prove a theory, and traumatizes John in the process. (Notably, Sherlock’s behavior at the end of that episode when John confronts him about it is very similar to his behavior in The Empty Hearse when he doesn’t want to tell John why he faked his death or who knew.) He gleefully thanks clients for exciting cases when they’re distraught. He doesn’t understand why someone would be upset about a long ago still-born daughter. A kidnapping is “neat”, a puzzle to be solved, rather than horrifying.  He lies, he manipulates, and he almost never realizes or cares when he’s hurting someone.  People largely put up with it and he rarely has to face up to the weight or the consequences of his actions.

None of this driven home more clearly then it is at the beginning of The Empty Hearse. Somehow, Sherlock expects to just reappear and go happily back to his old life where he and John live in 221B and solve cases together. It seems completely bizarre to the audience and everyone in universe, but it is very much like Sherlock to not consider the emotional cost of the stunts he pulls. He clearly sees his death as just one more magic trick that people will accept. He gleefully dons an absurd disguise to surprise John after ignoring Mycroft’s warnings that things have changed and it’s possible he won’t be welcome. “You let me grieve. How could you do that?” John asks him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to him?” Mary asks. Sherlock suddenly sees the result of his actions and is completely out of his depth as to how to deal with it. He jokes, appeals to John’s love of danger, and tries everything he can think of, but it’s not enough. It’s not even close. “I said I’m sorry.  Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” he asks an incredulous Mary.  He may see the result of his actions, but he doesn’t understand yet.  He’s only beginning to comprehend the real weight of what he has done.

Before they can even begin to attempt to deal with it all, John is kidnapped.  Sherlock immediately reacts, racing through London, frantically trying to reach his friend in time.  As he realizes what’s happening—that John is about to be burned alive—he utters a terrified “Oh my God" and tears off into the crowd screaming John’s name, before throwing himself into the bonfire to pull him out.  The scene plays out in much the same way as the climax of The Reichenbach Fall, though this time it’s Sherlock trying to reach his friend in time, Sherlock fighting his way through the crowd, Sherlock standing over John’s body. Sherlock living the scenario from the other side begins to see what it must have been like for John to witness it all.

The next day, John comes over to 221B, and it appears that they are at least on speaking terms.  But John meets Sherlock’s parents, realizes that they knew all along, and confronts Sherlock about that fact. Sherlock apologizes again—”Sorry. Sorry again.” He sounds frustrated, defensive, and emotional. He is sorry, but things aren’t okay, even if John is talking to him and willing to work with him on a case.  It’s not enough, for either of them, and he knows that.

It’s not until he apologizes in the train car that he even begins to get close. “I’m sorry. I can’t…I can’t do it, John. I don’t know how. Forgive me.  Please, John, forgive me, for all the hurt I caused you." (3) He understand now that his actions have had consequences. He recognizes that there is nothing he can do to fix any of it.  He can’t undo it; he can’t change it. Nothing will erase John’s grief or anger.  He’s not offering excuses or explanations.  He’s begging for mercy  and John’s forgiveness, when it comes, appears to take Sherlock completely by surprise, because he’s still missing a piece of the puzzle.  He still doesn’t quite see the weight of it all.

Continued here.

——-

Transcript excerpts from here.


1. Whether that’s euphemism for “bought off” or “got a bullet in the brain”, I’m not even going to touch. I know there’s a discrepancy between what we see in TRF and TEH, but that point aside, it’s still likely that whatever the plan actually involved, whoever was aiming at John would have been stopped.

 2. If you’re curious about my personal interpretation, I’d still argue that Sherlock’s goodbye to John was genuine. For all the planning, jumping off a roof is dangerous, even if you plan to survive. Sherlock very well could have died.  And even though it may not have been necessary,  leaving John in the dark appeared to have been difficult for Sherlock. I think he did intend to tell him, but much like John and Ms. Hudson, it just got harder for him to get in touch, somehow. He even nearly says it himself “I’ve nearly been in contact so many times, but…” before changing his mind and suggesting that John might have been indiscreet.

3. I realize it’s a YMMV thing, but I’m operating here under the assumption that Sherlock, while clearly being an ass, is making a genuine apology for what he’s done to John over the past two years and not apologizing for the bomb that he has already disabled.   I also recognize that Sherlock has manipulated John so that he’s in a position where he’ll want to accept the apology, but I don’t think it actually occurs to Sherlock that John might really completely forgive him.  More thoughts on that here.  I’m willing to suspend my disbelief for this, because I think it works in-universe, and I really do believe that’s what we’re supposed to take from the scene. But again, YMMV.

2. The Weight of Our Actions: Further Considerations on Major Sholto, Sherlock and The Reichenbach Fall

 (Sherlock Meta by stephisanerd)

(Note: Trigger warning:  Suicide/ Suicidal intention.  This is the second part of this post.  I edited the original post slightly and moved the conclusion over to this one and expanded it.  I’m borrowing some of my own thoughts from here.)

John: Look, Sherlock, this is the biggest and most important day of my life.
Sherlock: Well …
John: No, it is! It is, and I want to be up there with the two people that I love and care about most in the world.
Sherlock: Yes.
John: Mary Morstan …
Sherlock: Yes.
John: … and … you.
…
Sherlock: So, in fact …you-you mean …
John: Yes.
Sherlock: I’m your …best …
John: … man.
Sherlock: … friend?
John: Yeah, ’course you are. ’Course you’re my best friend.

Saying that Sherlock is stunned by this information would be an understatement, but as hilarious as the delivery is, it drives home a very important point.

Sherlock has never understood how John feels about him. Sherlock has always believed that John values him because he is clever and brilliant, and because it means that John gets the danger and adventures that he desires.

Consider the Reichenbach phone call again. If Sherlock believes that all John cares about his cleverness, he has to believe that if John stops valuing that that he will simply walk away, that he will no longer care about Sherlock. “I’m a fake.” Sherlock tells him. He isn’tjust saying goodbye or trying to protect John-he’s trying to convince John that everything that he has ever believed mattered about Sherlock is a lie. Sherlock is trying to break John’s faith in him, hoping that it will lessen the loss. “Nobody could be that clever.” Sherlock tells him.  John doesn’t see the truth of what Sherlock is really saying, what it really means, and he simply tells Sherlock “you could”.

Consider what it all means.  Sherlock believes himself to be, in part, responsible for all of the death and pain that Moriarty has caused.  It’s all because of who he is; it’s because Moriarty saw him as a worthy advisary.  He doesn’t believe he matters to anyone. Why shouldn’t he go along with Mycroft’s plan and Moriarty’s story?  It isn’t actually a suicide, but it’s all but.  He walks away from his life, and spends two years, on his own and lonely, destroying Moriarty’s network because he thinks it’s the only thing of any worth he can do.

He comes back to find John furious and can’t make sense of his anger, because he doesn’t understand the source of it. He doesn’t realize that John might forgive him, because he doesn’t realize what is there underneath the anger.  It’s not until John finally spells it out for him that Sherlock finally sees the truth of it. He matters to John. John loves him.  It’s only then that Sherlock realizes the true weight of his actions.   He finally sees how much of a loss his ‘death’ was for John.

And so, when Sherlock is confronted by Major Sholto, it gets to him. All along, Sherlock has been taking in the similarities and he, while occasionally jealous of Major Sholto’s connection with John, sees himself. He sees a man who is letting his life be taken. He sees someone that John loves about to take his own life in front of him. Again. “There’s a proper time to die, isn’t there?” Major Sholto says. “And one should embrace it when it comes.” But Sherlock understands the cost of embracing a death that could be avoided, of accepting the story that someone else has written for you. More than that, he understands the weight of such an action and he knows the cost of doing that to someone who loves you.  He understands all too well the grief and pain that it causes. He knows just what to say. “We wouldn’t do that, would we – you and me? We would never do that to John Watson.”

And Sherlock wouldn’t. At least, not anymore.

He steps back, knowing that it will work, even as John threatens to break down the door.

Major Sholto emerges and says to John what Sherlock now realizes he should have said on the day he faked his death.  I need your help.* “I believe I am in need of medical attention.”

“I believe I am your doctor.” John says. And he is now, to both of them,

Continued here because apparently I have more to say on this topic.  The next piece focuses on what Sherlock and John didn’t say, and how TRF might have turned out differently if they had been able to express their feelings.

—

Notes:

Transcript excerpts from here.

3. The Cost Of Things Unsaid: Further Thoughts on John, Sherlock, and Major Sholto 

 (Sherlock Meta by stephisanerd)

This is a further continuation of  thoughts from this post and this post, and there’s some overlap. The points I make about what I believe Sherlock is feeling when he jumps are made much more fully in those.  I’m focusing here on what John and Sherlock fail to express in The Reichenbach Fall and how their inability to do so contributed to Sherlock’s actions. (And how Sherlock’s later ability to do so contributed to Major Sholto’s)

(Note: Trigger warning-suicide/suicidal intention. I want to make explicitly clear here that I do not in any way believe that John was responsible for Sherlock’s actions. Regardless of what Sherlock believed in that moment, he still was responsible for his own decision. No one is ever responsible for someone else’s suicide. I simply want to highlight the fact that if both of them were better at saying what they meant, things might have ended differently.)

—

John: She’s dying …You machine. Sod this. Sod this. You stay here if you want, on your own.
Sherlock: Alone is what I have. Alone protects me.
John: No. Friends protect people.
…
Sherlock: An apology. It’s all true.
John: Wh-what?
Sherlock: Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty.
John: Why are you saying this?
Sherlock: I’m a fake.
John: Sherlock …
Sherlock: The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade; I want you to tell Mrs Hudson, and Molly … in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty for my own purposes.
John: Okay, shut up, Sherlock, shut up. The first time we met … the first time we met, you knew all about my sister, right?
Sherlock: Nobody could be that clever.
John: You could.

Sherlock and John aren’t having the same conversation here.

Sherlock believes he is putting his friends in danger. John. Ms. Hudson. Lestrade. The only way to protect them is for Sherlock to leave.  They’re better off without him.  “Alone protects me.”  Sherlock, also, really does feel responsible for Moriarty’s actions. Moriarty saw Sherlock as a worthy adversary, and Sherlock engaged in it so that he wouldn’t be bored. He sees the cost of that now—all of the deaths and the near deaths. All the crimes that Moriarty set up,and that he had a hand in. The old woman and the people in that block of flats. John. The kidnapped children. He feels the weight of that. “I created Moriarty for my own purposes”.  Sherlock believes that John values him for his cleverness, so in trying to convince John that he is a fake, he is trying to convince John that everything that he has ever believed mattered about Sherlock is a lie. He is trying to make John see that he doesn’t matter, that John shouldn’t mourn him."I’m a fake" “Nobody could be that clever,” Sherlock tells him.

 John doesn’t understand anything that Sherlock is really saying and his responses make that perfectly clear.  “You machine.” “Okay, shut up, Sherlock.” “You could.”

The words aren’t enough.  Sherlock is wrong about it all, but he goes to his ‘death’ believing it.  He believes that the only thing of any worth he can still do is destroy the rest of Moriarty’s network. It isn’t a suicide, but it is all but.

If Sherlock had been able to express what he was really feeling, what he really thought, it might have changed things. There are so many things he could have said.“My existence puts you in danger. You’re better off without me.” “I'm responsible for what Moriarty has done.” “I’m not worth anything to you or anyone else.”

If John had seen the truth of it, if he had understood what Sherlock was really saying, if he had been better able to express his feelings, it might have ended differently.  There are so many things that he could have said too.“You are not the cause of the danger we’re in. We’ll figure it out together” “You are not responsible for Moriarty’s actions.” “You are more than your cleverness.  You still matter to me.”

John doesn’t know that Sherlock thinks that John only values him for his cleverness.  Sherlock doesn’t realize that he’s John’s best friend. Neither one of them can express their emotions; Sherlock can’t express what he’s really feeling and John can’t express what Sherlock means to him. Neither one of them recognizes the truth of it, neither one of them says the right things, and it results in tragedy.

* * *

Sherlock, upon his return two years later, does eventually discover what he means to John. John asks him to be his best man and Sherlock realizes that he is John’s best friend.  He discovers that John loves him. It changes Sherlock. His realization of his worth allows him to be more open and honest about his feelings. He tells an entire room full of people how deeply he cares about John.

“John, I am a ridiculous man. Redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship. But as I’m apparently your best friend, I can not congratulate you on your choice of companion. Actually, now I can. Mary, when I say you deserve this man, it is the highest compliment of which I am capable. John, you have endured war, and injury and tragic loss. So sorry again about that last one. So know this, today you sit between the woman you have made your wife, and the man you have saved; In short, the two people who love you most in all this world. And I know I speak for Mary as well when I say we will never let you down, and we have a lifetime ahead to prove that.”

He tells John and everyone else that John has made him a better person and that he has saved him. He admits that he loves John.

But while Sherlock may have figured out how to express his emotions, John still struggles. He hugs Sherlock during his speech, a very public display of his affection, but it isn’t until Sherlock makes very clear his concern that he might have done it wrong that he does so.

It’s driven home later when they are both faced with Major Sholto, who is about to commit suicide in much the same way Sherlock did in The Reichenbach Fall. Major Sholto, like Sherlock, feels responsible for deaths that he didn’t cause. He believes he’s protecting those around him by dying.  He doesn’t believe that he matters to anyone. While he cares about John, he doesn’t realize how deeply John cares about him, and John still isn’t able to express it any explicit way.

Major Sholto: When so many want you dead, it hardly seems good manners to argue.
John: Whatever you’re doing in there, James, stop it, right now. I will kick this door down.
Major Sholto: Mr. Holmes, you and I are similar, I think.
Sherlock: Yes, I think we are.
Sherlock: There’s a proper time to die, isn’t there?
Sherlock: Of course there is.
Major Sholto: And one should embrace it when it comes – like a soldier.
Sherlock: Of course one should, but not at John’s wedding. We wouldn’t do that, would we – you and me? We would never do that to John Watson.

John tells him to stop and threatens to break down the door, but he doesn’t say what really needs to be said. Sherlock, however, has learned. He hears what Major Sholto is actually saying, because he once said it too. He knows how to respond, because it’s what he wishes he had heard when he was in the same place, what he wishes that John had said. He says what John still cannot. “We wouldn’t do that, would we—you and me? We would never do that to John Watson.” He tells Major Sholto that he matters—that he matters to John. He makes him see that in that killing himself, he would be doing something terrible to both himself and John.

He says all the right things this time. The words are enough now.

Note:  Transcript excerpts from here.

Sherlock, John, and the Elephant in the Room

 (Sherlock Meta by stephisanerd)

“The damsel in distress. In the end, are you really so obvious? Because this was textbook: the promise of love, the pain of loss, the joy of redemption…” Mycroft Holmes in A Scandal in Belgravia

Sherlock: I imagine John Watson thinks love’s a mystery to me but the chemistry is incredibly simple, and very destructive. When we first met, you told me that disguise is always a self-portrait. How true of you: the combination to your safe – your measurements; but this is far more intimate.This is your heart and you should never let it rule your head. You could have chosen any random number and walked out of here today with everything you’ve worked for but you just couldn’t resist it, could you? I’ve always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage. Thank you for the final proof.
Irene: Everything I said: it’s not real.I was just playing the game.
Sherlock: I know. And this is just losing.
—Sherlock and Irene in A Scandal in Belgravia

“Sherlock Holmes has made one enormous mistake which will destroy the lives of everyone he loves and everything he holds dear.” Charles Augustus Magnussen in His Last Vow.

* * *

This is your heart and you should never let it rule your head. And Sherlock Holmes has spent almost every moment of this series letting his heart rule his head. Even when it hurts him. Even when it puts everything he’s worked for in jeopardy. It’s what leads to the trap that he finds himself in at the end of His Last Vow, and it is textbook. It’s been the elephant in the room all series long, and it’s not until Magnussen lays it out for Sherlock and John that either of them sees it.

We’ve known all along that John is willing to do anything for Sherlock. He killed a man to save him and he was willing to sacrifice himself for Sherlock at the pool—an act that leaves Sherlock speechless. We’ve always known that John considers Sherlock his best friend. But Sherlock didn’t. He didn’t know it until John told it to him flat out, and it floors him. Again, he’s left unable to speak. But it’s hard to believe he missed it, really. Sherlock, who can deduce who’s sleeping with who  because of the deodorant they’re wearing, missed it. Why? Because he never expected to have a best friend. Because he never expected to find himself with real connections to other people.

Sherlock, before his return, was always portrayed as somewhat self-serving, manipulative, and selfish. It’s something John and everyone else accepts about him. He puts up with all manner of bullshit from Sherlock, as a matter of course. Sherlock lowers people’s expectations, especially when it comes to his ability or desire to care. “Don’t make people into heroes, John. Heroes don’t exist, and if they did I wouldn’t be one of them.” It’s not until the end of The Reichenbach Fall that we really believe that Sherlock might be willing to do something purely for another human being. *

But by the beginning of The Empty Hearse, we find out that it’s all a bit of a magic trick. He went off that roof, yes, and he let his name and everything that he considers himself to be get smeared. But it was only a temporary thing, and Sherlock knew that.  He expected to come back two years later and find that nothing had changed. He didn’t see the loss or the grief that would result from his actions. He didn’t anticipate the consequences and the first episode is almost entirely focused on Sherlock trying desperately to come to grips with that and make amends. He is fully focused on it, to such an extent that he makes several very human mistakes. As funny as the scene where Sherlock reunites with John is (Sherlock, you idiot.), it’s painfully clear that Sherlock has grossly miscalculated John’s reaction. In his mind, he should be able to waltz back into his life and pick up where he left off. He breezes in, trying to be clever, and when that fails, he tries to make John laugh in an attempt to diffuse the tension. Presumably, given what we’ve seen of their interactions, that usually works, but it doesn’t here. Sherlock begins to comprehend the weight of what he’s done as he continually tries every tactic he can think of to make it okay. Mustache joke? Down on the floor. Flippant comment about who knew? Bloody lip. Appealing to John’s love of danger? Bloody nose. And he lets John do it.

He’s out of his depth, and he wants to make things right, but he can’t begin to figure out how to do that. “I said I’m sorry. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” he says to Mary. Mary tells Sherlock that she’ll talk John around, at which point, Sherlock takes a closer look at her. We all saw “Liar” in his list of deductions because we were looking for it, we were detached, but Sherlock somehow doesn’t register that information as important. Might that be because more than anything, he wanted to believe that Mary would help him reconnect with John? In that moment, that was more important to him than anything else, so he let it go.

Later in the episode, he doesn’t register the fact that Mary had recognized a skip code on sight. Why? Because his only concern was saving John. He jumps into the fire and pulls him out out, again discarding potentially important information. In The Sign of Three, he discards or misinterprets the evidence again. John loves Mary, and Sherlock, as John’s best friend is going to make sure that they have the perfect day. He thinks well of her, because he knows that John loves her. Even when he should be questioning why exactly she can tell he’s lying. Why she has so few friends.He could have seen it, maybe should have seen it, but he doesn’t. Again and again, he misses it. Human error. Sentiment. Do you see it yet?

He’ll do things for John just because John asks—John even plays on it on occasion.

JOHN: A case. Your inbox is bursting. Just … get me out of here.
SHERLOCK: You want to go out on a case? N-now?
JOHN: Please, Sherlock, for me.
SHERLOCK: Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll get you out of this.

He plans a wedding and makes a speech—a beautiful, touching one that surprises everyone. He composes a waltz for John and Mary, and plays it. He vows that he will always be there for them, a startling departure for someone who once implied that any expectation that he care about people was simply too high. And for all the ways he has been shown to be jealous of John’s connections with other people in the past, he doesn’t act on it here. He accepts that John loves Mary, even though it means losing him in some ways. He insists that John getting married won’t change anything, but it’s an empty, hollow objection, and when the weight of the thing finally hits him, he only turns and sadly walks away. It’s the end of an era.

Sherlock fights his way back from death, because he believes John to be in danger.  Nothing else in his mind-palace did it-not the thought of his mom and dad, or his brother, or The Woman.  It was the thought of how much danger John was still in.  He forgives Mary for shooting and nearly killing him, maybe because on some level, he recognizes that she would do anything to protect John, just as he would. He lets John work out his feelings, and doesn’t intervene, simply giving him space, but invites both John and Mary to dinner at his parents’ house, hoping that they’ll find some hope in his parents’ relationship.

But do either of them notice it? Sherlock keeps plotting, attempting to outwit Magnussen, trying to save Mary and therefore John, even as it should have been clear to him that he was missing something big. He assumes he has the upper hand, and so he wheels and deals, falling right into the trap of human emotions all over again. It’s not until Magnussen shows them the video of the fire and spells it out that either of them seems to recognize it at all.

“Very hard to find a pressure point on you, Mr. Holmes…the drugs thing I never believed for a moment, anyway, you wouldn’t care if it was exposed, would you? But look how you care about John Watson. Your damsel in distress.”

In the end, are you really so obvious?

And it was obvious. In the end, it was just a man pushed into a corner, watching the person he loves most in the world being bullied. “Sherlock, do we have a plan? Sherlock?” “Sherlock, what do we do?”

There’s no clever scheme, no magic trick to get them out of this one. ** It’s a gut reaction, and you can’t help wondering how you didn’t it see coming, even as it surprises you. Watching that moment, watching Sherlock murder Magnussen, watching him turn to John,  who is standing there shocked and horrified, watching Sherlock tell him “Give my love to Mary.  Tell her she’s safe now,” as it dawns on John why exactly it is Sherlock has done this, before giving himself up to what at the moment could only be death, be it actual or the loss of everything he believes himself to be…could this series have ended any other way?

Sherlock miscalculated every move that Magnussen made— trying to convince him that a drug habit was his downfall, trying to steal the letters, taking him the laptop, believing that the glasses were the solution, believing the vaults were a physical place, —he should have seen it, but he didn’t.  He’s only human after all, and it’s painful to watch. But Magnussen fatally miscalculated Sherlock’s move as well. Even though he recognizes that John is Sherlock’s pressure point, he failed to recognize just how far Sherlock would go to protect and save him. I’m not sure I would have believed it, if not for this series. Sherlock, who was willing to jump into a fire for John, who was willing to put himself massively out of his comfort zone to be Best Man, who was willing to gracefully step aside, knowing that in many ways he was losing John to Mary, even as it was obviously hurting him. Sherlock who has been out of his depth since his return, trying to find his place in a world that has changed. Of course he would go that far. Bitterness is a paralytic, love is a much more vicious motivator, as Sherlock once said. And now both he, and John, see it.  John, in that moment, has to be aware that Sherlock is doing this for him. And Sherlock doesn’t try to deny that Magnussen was right about him, he doesn’t try to play it off, or make it mean something else, he proves it.

The one person that Sherlock is willing to do anything for is John. It all  comes back to him, over and over again. Sherlock holds reason above all things, and believes it to be completely antithetical to all emotions, and especially love. Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side, he once said. And yet. He’s finally figured it out. He loves John, and that’s more important than winning, more important than being clever, or being the hero. It’s more important than his work, or even his life. So he gives up, and he loses the game, fully aware of what exactly it is he’s sacrificing and why.

Did either of them recognize it before this? I’d guess not, who knows, but it’s staring them in the face now, and neither one of them knows how to deal with it. Their goodbye, as Sherlock is sent off on his suicide mission is stilted and awkward. Sherlock offers John his hand, they shake. He nearly says something, and chickens out. He makes John laugh, one last time, knowing that this will be it, and he walks away. It feels awkward, like there’s something they’re not saying, like there’s something missing. It’s the elephant in the room***, they can see it, hell, WE CAN SEE IT, but Sherlock can’t find the words, and so he walks away, for good, he thinks. It doesn’t matter, he can leave it unsaid, because he doesn’t expect to ever have to face this down again.

And then, there’s a voice, a phone call, and the plane turns around. And the question, the one I find more more intriguing than whether Moriarty is back, is this: How the hell do you deal with that elephant in the room now?

—-

All quotes taken from here. 

My other Sherlock analysis posts can be found here.

(DISCLAIMER: I’m not a Johnlock shipper, even as I’m realizing that I’ve basically written a several thousand word manifesto on the subject. Not because I don’t see the subtext, but it just doesn’t tend to be how I analyze or relate to fictional content. I’m not coming down here on one side or the other of that debate, and I really just don’t care about it? Ship or don’t ship to your heart’s content, but please don’t flame me or flood my inbox. Edits made 1/22, including moving this disclaimer to the end of the post, adding an oxford comma to the title because it was driving me crazy and minor changes to the piece itself.)

—-

*I’d actually argue that Sherlock’s capacity for that was greater than he probably realized all along, and that Sherlock really was attempting to protect John when he jumped (thoughts on that here) but I’m simplifying so this doesn’t end up roughly the length of a novel.

**If they retcon that, I will be so horrifically pissed.

***They managed to get an inordinate number of elephant mentions into this series. The idea that something important is hiding in plain sight is touched on over and over again, and I’ll probably write other posts on the subject.

Sherlock and John are friends

 (Sherlock Meta from before S3 
by thenorwoodbuilder, tookmyskull and consultingdragoness)

thenorwoodbuilder:



So, today I’m going to push my natural vocation to play Devil’s advocate to new and unprecedented extremes - so be warned!

Now, I have to make some preliminary remarks.

If you’re masochist enough to have been reading my ramblings for some time, you perfectly know what my opinion about Sherlock’s and John’s relationship is: I stick to the  Canon, and I am firmly persuaded that both canonical Homes and Watson, AND modern Sherlock and John, are the very epitome of what a true friendship is. This is one of the two main reasons that have glued me to Sherlock Holmes since I was a child - because I’m lucky enough to know this kind of friendship (and also to know what life without this kind of friendship is), and value it above anything else, and I’m always deeply moved when I see it so well portraied in cinema or literature.

No argument could ever (and, I presume, will ever be able to) persuade me that there is or could ever be any kind of “romantic” relationship between our two heroes - by which I don’t mean that they don’t love each other deeply: friendship IS love, and, according to me, in its more selfless and noble form.

Not even the alleged (I’ve read may opinions in this sense) “exclusive” nature of John’s and Sherlock’s relationship could persuade me differently: actually, I don’t see their relationship as being so terribly exclusive, considered that John has as many girlfriends as he wants (Sherlock being a hell of a best friend to introduce them to being irrelevant, considered that this is just part of Sherlock’s annoying attitude towards mankind in general… And John’s inability to keep a girlfriend for more than eight months - this is more or less the duration of his relationship with Sarah, as we might deduce from his blog - has more to do with his personal inability to concentrate his efforts on women who appear to be “right” for him, instead of throwing himself at any good-looking and breathing thing in a skirt he casts his eyes upon, than with any “interference” on Sherlock’s part…). John also goes out with his “friends” (I would use more correct expressions, such as “significant human interactions”, but I suppose they would sound quite strange, or even rude… maybe we might call them “buddies”, however) as he pleases (in A Scandal in Belgravia we are told that he spends the occasional evening with Mike Stamford, for example, and he and Lestrade are on first name terms, so presumably they frequent each other socially, every now and then…), and Sherlock not going with him, again, has more to do with Sherlock’s scornful attitude towards “ordinary people” and “ordinary life” and “ordinary fun” (because they are “BORING”…), than with any form of possessiveness towards John.

Even when, on Christmas Eve, in A Scandal in Belgravia, Sherlock - according to Molly - “complains” about John’s decision to spend Christmas Day with his sister, I’m under the impression that he is more annoyed by the fact that John is going to voluntarily place himself (again, we might presume) in a situation in which - according to Sherlock - he’ll end up being disappointed and hurt again by his sister’s inability to really quit drinking, than by the fact that John won’t be with him on Christmas Day per se.

More generally, as I’ve already observed in some private conversations, a certain “exclusiveness” we might find in Sherlock’s and John’s friendship is basically due to the extreme rarity of this kind of true friendship: the vast majority of people don’t know more than one or two friendships of this kind during their whole lives, and not always simultaneously (and there are many people who are not so lucky as to experience this kind of friendship at all…). Only the luckiest amongst the lucky are blessed with many true friendships.

Currently, neither Sherlock, NOR John, have any other friend of this kind. So it’s perfectly logical that the bond that links them is stronger than any other relationship with other “acquaintances” they might have. And it would remain as much strong even in case one of them were lucky enough to find another person whom he’ll be able to consider a “true friend” (which would be, of course, even harder than for many people, as both Sherlock AND John appear to be extremely private and selective persons), or even when John will get - as Canon prescribes - married with Mary Morstan (around Series 4, according to me).

This kind of friendship simply is different - and complementary - to any other kind of love bond a human being can experience in his/her life.

This is my unfaltering persuasion.

And yet… - AND YET!

As I’ve told at the beginning of this long rambling, I can’t resist the temptation to play Devil’s advocate, even against myself - no, better: PARTICULARLY against myself!

And so: were I looking for evidence to support a “Johnlock theory”, I wouldn’t use feeble arguments such as “Sherlock follows John everywere”, or “Sherlock boycotts John’s dates”, or the like…

No, I would draw your attention to a very little, and yet very suggestive, fact.

At the beginning of ASiB we see the unnamed client of Sherlock entering the flat and giving Mrs. Hudson a fright by fainting in Sherlock’s and John’s kitchen. And it is at this moment that Mrs. Hudon raises her head and, looking towards the second floor, where John’s room is, yells: “Boys! You’ve got anoter one!”

So, now the intriguing question is: what were John AND SHERLOCK doing together in JOHN’S room, considering that John always keeps his computer, his bills, his… everything but clothes and very personal objects, we might presume, in the living area of the flat? And considering also that John appears to spend all his spare time in the living room, and so does Sherlock…

Were they looking at John’s collection of stamps?

Well, I’d say that there is, at least, some ground for speculation, here…



[Now, returning to my usual self, some plausible alternative explanations of Mrs. Hudson’s gesture:

1. Mrs. Hudson just suffers from arthrosis.

2. On the second floor there is not only John’s room, but also the box room where all past cases - and related relics - are filed, and Sherlock and John where actually fighting their way through that mess, in order to retrieve some document or object of significance for a new case.

3. John and Sherlock were not on the second floor, but on the roof: Sherlock wanted to hide from an unespected call from Mycroft, and just dragged John with him to better annoy his brother, as he then found an empty flat to greet him.

…Or any other explanation to the same effect you might like.]



tookmyskull:

Because I’m also a lifelong, card-carrying Devil’s Advocate, my remarks come from observing the bigger picture outside of the actual Sherlock universe.

1. Fans who are into shipping will ship anything, whether it has any in-universe validity or not. Arthur is shipped with Merlin, Dean gets shipped with Castiel (and sometimes even his own brother!) in Supernatural, canes gets shipped with scarves. As a “non-shipper,” I rather see this is as a fun game for many, while others take it very, very seriously indeed. Either way, one can wink at it or engage in it as one sees fit.

2. The Sherlock writers have repeatedly said that the show is a “vanity project” for them. A lot of what they include are just tongue-in-cheek, inside jokes, leaving me to question to what extent one can take what happens very seriously from the point of view of the show’s actual plots. They based S2 not so much on the spirit of Doyle’s Canon, but on other adaptations and parodies they liked (Rathbone’s “A Woman in Green” and “The Spider Woman” and “The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes” for example). Some of these jokes/references were handled brilliantly - others I view as experiments that, at best, didn’t quite work and at worst, were totally illogical to the actual plot and required the characters to say/do things that seemed totally out of character for them.

3. Because Sherlock is rife with inside jokes, one has to consider how Mrs. Watson was handled not only by Doyle, but by the traditional Holmes fandom pre-Sherlock, and then consider how the Sherlock writers may be playing with all of that. The original Watson was married, yes, but was constantly neglecting his duties at home to run off on an adventure with Holmes. The modern John, while not married (at least, not yet!), does the same thing to his girlfriends. Meanwhile, traditional Holmes fans (including me), while they may have viewed Mrs. Watson (Mary Morstan) with affection, did, quite frankly, find her very much in the way and secretly wished she wasn’t around, so Holmes/Watson could be a full-time team once more. Doyle finally dealt with this after he brought Holmes back from the dead by killing off poor Mary Morstan, so Watson again could live with Holmes full-time. Watson did take a mysterious second wife much later on, an act for which Holmes states he never forgave him! And, of course, there is the iconic line: “Come if convenient; if inconvenient, come all the same.” And Watson always did come (and I don’t mean that in a shipping sort of way!). In the modern version, John does the same thing.

It could be that, taking all of the above into account, the Sherlock writers are just having fun playing with the long-standing idea that, girlfriends or not, John and Sherlock are attached by the hip and their collaboration will always take precedence over any other relationship one or the other may enter into.

As for the shipping, the writers themselves cannot blame the fandom for doing it, as they certainly have made every effort to plant the idea in viewers’ minds with all of the gay baiting John and Sherlock have endured. The writers have been very contradictory and vague themselves about why they have chosen to do this. While they may insist, on the one hand, that the pair are NOT gay in their version, they also seem perfectly willing to wink at all the shipping and leave plenty of doubt in fans’ minds.

This frankly irritates me a lot, simply because I really dislike being “twitted.” If they want to create a gay version of the saga, why not? The characters have been represented in every other possible way! But why be so confusing about it? Am I really supposed to believe, for example, that Irene Adler’s pulse would go up, even though she declares herself a lesbian? Only gays and lesbians can answer this question, not me!  

consultingdragoness:

*Rubs hands together in glee, because I too get off from playing Devil’s Advocate and if you don’t know I ship it like fedex by now, what are you even doing on my blog*

So I’m pretty sure the entire bit about ‘exclusivity’ is like 99% my fault. Quick re-hash: My main argument for why they’re in a relationship vs a friendship is that a relationship is exclusive: they’re emotionally dependent on each other to the extent that John cannot keep a girlfriend because he’s too invested in Sherlock:I don’t think the reason has to do with John skirt-chasing/being otherwise incapable of commitment, as we see that it’s never for anyone but Sherlock that he rushes off/leaves his girlfriend- Sherlock comes first, regardless of anything and that’s a bit much for just a friendship. Also note that while you could argue that he just doesn’t take the time to get to know his girlfriends enough to love them in the same way, he ‘fell’ almost instantly for Sherlock. So, yes, maybe John just needs to meet the right woman, but considering the likelihood of him being able to not put Sherlock first is very much nil and that Sherlock can’t seem to keep from tearing apart his girlfriends (and it’s not like John doesn’t let it happen. Also, when Sherlock tears into them, it’s a lot more deliberate than his off-hand cruelty in deductions: it’s a bit more, um, personal?!) Anyways, it seems a bit like John’s already taken, doesn’t it? Not to mention that Irene’s insinuation that they’re in a relationship goes largely unchecked and that John stops protesting after that: he accepts it and, except for a last-ditch effort with the psychologist, he seems to decide his dating life can also take a rest. John’s perfectly capable of making friends and girlfriends if he desires to (we already know he’s pretty damn charming when he wants to be), he just chooses not to. Because he prefers Sherlock. And really, only Sherlock.

As for Sherlock, well— I don’t think he really gets the difference between friendship, love and sexual attraction at all (note the “we go on dates line” in The Blind Banker and Irene and really just everything), but he clearly depends on John and he’s never allowed himself to do that with anyone, so yes, even if it were more than friendship, I don’t think Sherlock would be the one to notice that they’re way more co-dependent than even the best of friends normally are. The only thing I can say is: if Sherlock Holmes think you’re attracted to him on your first dinner out: I mean, you probably are. He can at least read the signs of attraction, even if love is not his area.

That being said, Tookmyskull is right: if they’re just baiting us, I will personally shoot a  few holes in the wall. I think they need to commit the characters one way or another and hopefully next season will do that. If Sherlock is gay/enamored a bit with John, it actually would be far from the first portrayal of Sherlock Holmes to lean in that direction (Remember “The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes”? That was the 1970's too, if I’m not mistaken.)

Also,  I”ve ‘shipped it’ since I read ACD canon. I”m actually not going to get into a prolonged analysis on that— cleverer people with more time and more writing space have put that particular argument forth many times. Suffice to say that Sir Arthur was fairly liberal for his time and also rather good friends with Oscar Wilde, so it’s not out of the realm of possibilities that there’s some real homoerotic subtext in canon— Again, though, I’m a Holmesian, not a Victorian era scholar, which is another reason why I’m not delving into that. (Google it if you’re interested!)

It’s probably also worth it to note that my entire assumption about Johnlock is simply that they’re in a relationship, that it’s more than a friendship and that they’re ‘soulmates’. I’m not implying that it’s sexual in any way, because, frankly, I couldn’t care less. I actually think, despite Moffat’s claims to the contrary, that Sherlock is largely asexual. ACD Sherlock struck me as more likely to not actually be asexual: the Victorian era meant he could have been a number of different sexualities and simply be keeping it under wraps.

As for the Irene pulse thing: sure, she could be attracted to him, though it doesn’t have to be physical.  She could also be turned on by the danger aspect. ‘Love’ was (I really, really hope) simply Holmes being very unfamiliar with the laws of attraction vs love. You know,  I felt like at times they were trying to put forth some sort of testament to the fluidity of sexuality, but it fell a bit flat to me. I guess the implication was that we’ve had a character who’s fallen in love with Holmes despite her sexuality and that the same character then implies that John’s the same way, so yes, it’s canon that Moffatiss care about 2 cents for whatever sexuality that characters think they are, for better or for worse!

I could go on, but I think we all already know we could each write a short novel on the topic.

Now that we've met the parents

 (Sherlock Meta by ibelieveinmycroft)

Anonymous: I know you need time to mull it over, and I'm unlikely to be the first to ask this: what do you think of Mycroft and Sherlock's childhood, now that you've met their parents? No wonder they are constantly upsetting mummy!

ibelieveinmycroft: I loved that moment! They’re so delightfully ordinary, it makes their boys seem even stranger. I hope they crop up again at, say, a family dinner, so we can see the family dynamic.

Mark Gatiss once described the Holmes brothers as growing up like “hothouse flowers,” and I think this depiction of their parents and the revelations in this episode sit rather well with that. As Mycroft and Sherlock both thought Sherlock an idiot until they met other children, and Mycroft is seven years Sherlock’s senior, they must have been left on their own for a long time. Home-schooled, is likely then, and their home is probably quite remote. I’m still clinging on to the image of the rural country manor, with two mad, brilliant boys rattling around inside it, pouring through the books in their library, roaming the woods and conducting experiments on insects, educating themselves and each other rather than deigning to be taught.

Their parents allowed, even encouraged this, for years before trying to get their children to socialise more, and meet other children. That Sherlock was old enough to remember the event suggests that he was at least three or four and, thus, Mycroft had been allowed to remain alone for around ten or eleven years. It certainly seems that for a very long time they had no one else.

I can see what upset Mummy - she had a rather odd set of boys that sprung from nowhere. Mycroft was long a cuckoo in the nest, until Sherlock came along. I think it likely that their parents never really understood their slightly odd sons, but accepted them. Though the constant bickering can’t have been easy to live with!

Their parents certainly loved them, and Sherlock and Mycroft evidently love their parents too. Who else could get the British Government himself to suffer through Les Mis other than a devoted mother!

In Defense of Sally Donovan

 (Sherlock Meta by wellingtongoose)

Anonymous asked: How can you even defend Sally? She is such a b*tch to Sherlock! If I called someone a freak at work I would be fired. She totally deserves everything she gets.*

wellingtongoose: In reference to  my metas:  Heroines in Sherlock or Nuclear Meltdown at the Met 2, which are both mostly about Sally.

I personally find hatred for Sally Donovan on the Sherlock fandom disturbing and also incredibly illogical. Many people have condemned Sally for being “unprofessional” towards Sherlock and yet few have thought to use the same yardstick to measure Sherlock.

For a moment, let’s put aside the blinding vitriol and actually take a look at Sherlock, not Sally. Here is man, who to all intent and purposes, sets himself up as a professional. He holds an expert body of knowledge that gives him power over his clients. In the same way doctors have an expert body of knowledge that gives we us great influence over our patients.

How does Sherlock treat his clients, the people he is nominally trying to help? He treats them with disdain. Instead of attempting to reassure the client in ASIB, he rants off a list of the man’s very personal attributes to a complete stranger, right in front of the client and then condescendingly tells the man not to worry. In THoB, not only does he refuse to take Henry Knight seriously, he is completely dismissive of his very real fears.

How does he treat the people he works with? Sherlock consistently forgets to share information with John or withholds information deliberately so he can test out a pet theory. He runs off at regular intervals leaving John in the lurch and also has little consideration for John’s personal life, which Sherlock seems to think should be put on hold for him. I have no doubt that Sherlock values John as his friend, companion and blogger, but John definitely deserves to be treated better.

As for Lestrade and the CID – Sherlock has shown consistent contempt for the police and police procedure. There is a reason why you must not contaminate crime scenes or withhold evidence from the police. The evidence gathered is not admissible in a court of law. Sherlock might solve the case – but he’s made securing a conviction very difficult/almost impossible. The police have these rules so that they can actually lock the criminals away and secure justice for the victim and their families (Nuclear Meltdown at the Met)

Sherlock consistently refuses to behave professionally in the course of his professional duties.

In contrast, we do not see Sally treating crime victims or her colleagues with the same unprofessional attitude that Sherlock does.

Yes, Sally was unprofessional; I’m not saying that she is blameless. However we don’t know what has been said between Sherlock and Sally in the past and therefore we do not have a context for the comment. Given Sherlock’s willingness to drag Sally’s private life into their conversation right in front of her colleagues I would say their feud was ugly on both sides.

Sally definitely needs to improve on her professional attitude to Sherlock, but Sherlock needs to improve his attitude to everyone, including John and Mrs Hudson.

But Sherlock isn’t a real person - he’s a flawed protagonist and audiences find that appealing. For example: I love watching House because he says all the things I would never dare to say to my patients.

Sherlock has the emotional sensitivity of a tabloid newspaper but that’s what makes him Sherlock, and sets the BBC adaptation apart from Elementary/ITV Granada versions.

We can’t judge Sherlock for his bad behaviour, his flaws are central to the show. Therefore it’s decidedly unfair and equally fruitless to judge Sally for her reactions to him.

Sally represents how the average person would treat Sherlock (but not how they should treat anyone) and it accentuates the amazing patience, loyalty, dedication and personal sacrifices of John, Mrs Hudson and even Lestrade.

 *this is not the full text of the ask, I had to edit it because of the vocabulary used.

If you want to read my analysis of Sally’s actions during TRF: Nuclear Meltdown at the Met 2

Family is all we have in the end

 (Sherlock Meta by ibelieveinmycroft)

Anonymous asked: So, in Scandal, we see Mycroft telling Mrs. Hudson to shut up, and after Sherlock yells at him and he gets looks from Mrs. Hudson, John, and Sherlock, she (Mrs. Hudson) says something along the lines of, ‘after all, family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes.’ and Mycroft looks almost hurt. Do you think that it may be because of this comment? Because Mycroft is so detached from Sherlock, who very well may be the last of his family? So according to her he has nothing?

ibelieveinmycroft: Interesting one, this one. I don’t think Mrs Hudon’s comment was quite that barbed. Her intention was, obviously, to chastise Mycroft for putting Sherlock and John in a dangerous situation. I can’t imagine that she knows Mycroft very well and, like John, thinks of him only as Sherlock’s overbearing big brother. She probably didn’t realise that she was touching on something very close to Mycroft’s heart.

Mrs Hudson: It’s a disgrace, sending your little brother into danger like that. Family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes.
Mycroft: Oh shut up, Mrs Hudson.

Mycroft is usually so polite, genteel, refined and sophisticated, even when threatening mild-mannered army doctors in the middle of warehouses, negotiating with scheming dominatrices or torturing criminal masterminds. His unassailable calm is a part of what makes him so threatening, so dangerous. It is so unlike Mycroft to be rude to anyone - apart from his brother, which is a whole other matter.

So what brought Mycroft’s defences crashing down like that? What made a man, who can stare down his enemies with a smile, snap at a pleasant little old lady?

Mrs Hudson is like a surrogate mother to Sherlock and John, and this scene sees her very much in this role - fussing over her boys, bringing them breakfast and scolding Mycroft for putting them in danger. Mycroft himself is quite obviously uncomfortable and displaced by the situation - he is standing separate from them all - they are gathered round the table, while he is stood by the fireplace - and he has kept his coat on. Watching his brother, seemingly his only family, secure among the urban family he has built for himself will obviously have an unsettling effect on Mycroft.

So, when Mrs Hudson says, “Family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes!”, in that tone of voice, using his full name, as if chastising a child, he is not going to be able to keep his cool. I think the history between the brothers is as unbeknown to Mrs Hudson and John as it is to the viewers, so she doesn’t realise that she has just made a statement that will be extremely provocative to a man who cares very deeply for his brother (something that this episode went out of its way to prove.) Mycroft, who is already feeling off-balance due to the dynamics of the room, understandably snaps and tells her to shut up. Mycroft, a man in control of every situation, one of the most powerful, respected and feared men in the country and a master of subtlety and grace, can be knocked off-balance by one thing alone - his brother.

John and Mrs Hudson look shocked, affronted, as if they can’t believe it of Mycroft. Sherlock’s expression is slightly different - not at all surprised, despite his anger as he reprimands his brother.
Sherlock’s next line in this scene has been a bit contentious in the fandom, some seeing it as a joke, some reading a deeper meaning. I fall into the latter camp, as there are very few throwaway lines in this series. After shaming Mycroft into apology, Sherlock turns to Mrs Hudson and, half-jokingly, tells her “Although do, in fact, shut up”, which suggests, to me at any rate, that he understands what pushed his brother over the edge. Sherlock knows how Mycroft feels about family, even if they are both terrible at expressing those feelings, and knows that he doesn’t need any more blame for his missteps.

Mrs Hudson, like the rest of us, doesn’t quite understand the complicated relationship that exists between the Holmes brothers. They bite and scratch at each other, but neither want to actually do serious harm to the other - and each knows when the other has been deeply hurt, and attempts to remedy it. Their personalities do not allow for much familial sentiment, but it is there, underneath their protective, guarded layers.

Anthea, The Genius

 (Sherlock Meta by ibelieveinmycroft)

Anonymous: Slightly random ask, but is Anthea really smart? Plus isnt she Mycroft's assistant? I imagine to be working for Mycroft Holmes you'd have to be a genius.

ibelieveinmycroft: We have nothing concrete to go on in regards to Anthea’s intelligence, but I agree with you that, to work for Mycroft, she must be highly intelligent.

She has been working directly for Mycroft for at least four years, likely much longer, assuming that the series basically happens in real time. She may or may not be his PA, but is evidentially closer to him than any other employee. It is her he dispatches in his car to collect John Watson, and who accompanies him to the crime scene in A Study in Pink, and she is in his private office in the Diogenes in The Empty Hearse, not remotely surprised - indeed, rather pleased - to see Sherlock back from the dead.



But is she more than a secretary? One of her few lines of dialogue in The Empty Hearse hints at a role above filing, making coffee, escorting army doctors and dressing her boss’ younger brother:

One of our men died getting this information. All the chatter, all the traffic, concurs there’s going to be a terror strike on London – a big one.

These are not the words of a woman who makes the tea. These are the words of an intelligence operative privy to some confidential and delicate information. Her fingers never left her Blackberry in A Study in Pink because she’s busy woman with a great deal of work to do.



Her role in A Study in Pink is very interesting. Mycroft has had his brother’s new friend picked up and brought to an abandoned warehouse so he might intimidate, attempt to bribe and threaten him. This is clearly outside the order of normal government business. That Mycroft has involved Anthea suggests that he trusts her with his personal business.

On top of it all, I love how amused she is by the brothers in The Empty Hearse and by John in A Study in Pink. With John she is so above it all that she can afford to be glib, but with the brothers I suspect there is some fondness there. She steals side-glances at Mycroft when Sherlock is being difficult, and smiles when Sherlock sweeps out of the office in his most dramatic fashion. This is a woman who has been on the periphery of the Holmes brothers’ world for some time now.



For Mycroft to keep the same employee around for a number of years, to trust them not only with state secrets but also with secrets regarding his only ‘pressure point’, his brother, indicates, to me, that this person must necessarily be highly intelligent. She may not be able to keep up with Mycroft - even Sherlock can’t do that - but she is likely a genius in her own right too.

Growing Pains: John and Sherlock in The Blind Banker

 (Sherlock Meta by sherlockcharacteranalysis)

marryxmasmollyhooper: Hello! I just discovered your blog, and while I do Ship Johnlock, I think your analyses are spot on. One question, though, could you specify what behavior of John's in The Blind Banker would have made Sherlock insecure/defensive about their relationship? Was there anything more than the "colleague" correction? Thanks!

sherlockcharacteranalysis: Thank you for this question! (I’m assuming it must be about this post.) I’ve actually wanted to do an analysis of how The Blind Banker portrays John and Sherlock’s friendship for awhile now, and this is just the motivation I need.

The Blind Banker starts with both Sherlock and John coming off the honeymoon period in A Study in Pink, and then the episode is basically a series of growing pains that they overcome to reach a better understanding of each other.



(Go to the bolded part at the end if you want a short, not-so-detailed answer, because this is a bit long.)

At the beginning, after the row with the self-checkout, John comes home irritated and assumes the worst conclusion from what he sees i.e. that Sherlock sat around doing nothing all day, when we know otherwise. This is the opposite of A Study in Pink when John always gave Sherlock the benefit of the doubt or just straight up assumed the best of him even in the face of overwhelming evidence (like the drug bust). Here, he has almost no evidence and just assumes the worst (wrongly), just like everyone else.

Instead of getting irritated though, Sherlock decides to be magnanimous and sends John off with his credit card, because John is his friend and friends help each other, right? John comes back and is still irritated though, says he needs a job, asks Sherlock if he can borrow money. Sherlock ignores him, goes off to meet Sebastian instead, John in tow.

By the time Sherlock introduces John as his “friend,” John is pretty tiffed. In John’s world, a friend is someone who doesn’t just let you struggle up the stairs yourself with all the shopping, and most definitely would not ignore you when you’re in financial straits. At the moment, John doesn’t really feel like Sherlock considers him a friend, he’s more like some kind of live-in help…so “colleague,” he corrects. Now, I don’t think John said that entirely out of frustration; there’s also the fact that Sherlock introduced him as a colleague in A Study in Pink, not to mention that a “colleague” is connected to The Work, which Sherlock values, where as a friend is connected to human relationships, which are “dull”. That being said, I think if he had been less frustrated, he might have just let it go.





Now, however, from Sherlock’s POV the events are completely different:

First, as indicated above, Sherlock is actually trying to be nice this whole time. He doesn’t correct John, he tries to lighten the mood, he gives John his credit card. John comes back; he obviously doesn’t need help with the shopping. He’s a strong man, and look he even said he doesn’t need help. Hmm, but John is still irritated. Now he’s fussing about the bills. Dull. Besides, isn’t that suppose to be John’s strong point? Practical stuff like that? Why is he talking to Sherlock about it? Now he’s asking to borrow money. Sherlock just gave him his own credit card; what more can he need?

At this moment Sherlock decides to go to the bank and help Sebastian, something he had been ambivalent about before. Why? I think he actually does this for John. John likes the excitement of cases; it lets him escape the dull drudgery of ordinary life which is what weighs him down. Sherlock decides then that this case will cheer John up, just like it did before. Too bad John doesn’t understand any of this and Sherlock doesn’t think to explain at all, because to him it’s just obvious.

So he goes to the bank to help Sebastian whom he despises just for John, because he cares about John who is his friend, even introduces him properly as such…and then John goes and throws it back in his face. John considers himself a “colleague,” you know like Lestrade and everyone else down at the yard who thinks Sherlock’s a freak and not anyone to be admired or even respected. Sherlock had thought John was different, but now he’s wondering if maybe he’s not. Then to make matters worse, when Sebastian makes fun of him, John smiles right along. (In John’s defense, I think he thought Sebastian was just joking around, like old college mates do, and doesn’t notice how hurt Sherlock looks in that scene.)







When you look at it that way, it’s hard not to imagine Sherlock feeling extremely hurt and insecure about his whatever with John from then on. And I think not coincidentally, the next two places they go investigate, Sherlock intentionally shuts John out. (Or, very intentionally doesn’t let him in.)

The thing is, however he introduced him to The Yard, Sherlock hasn’t really been bringing John as a colleague. He’s been bringing John to cases as a friend; it’s “two people who like each other going out to have fun.”  Although eventually Sherlock starts to realize that John is actually quite crucial to the his work as well, I think this is always the primary motivation for Sherlock bringing John along. At any rate, at this point, he still thinks he’s been bringing John along mainly for John’s own sake: he took John to see the pink woman because John was frustrated about staying behind, to chase the cabbie to cure John’s limp, and now to the bank to distract John from his mundane worries.

So at this moment, I imagine Sherlock thinking (if subconsciously) something like this: “colleague? Do you really think I need you for my work John? You think that’s why I bring you along? Well that’s not why; let me show you.” Annnnnnnnd he leaves John locked outside Eddie van Coon’s flat.

Eventually Sherlock does let John in (dead body, would be good for John to check), but then John refuses to help out. Then he inadvertently betrays Sherlock again by  siding with D.I. Dimmock’s (wrong) theory over Sherlock’s.



Sherlock then retaliates by leaving John to fend for himself when the cops show up behind the museum and accuse John of vandalism, and then again outside of Soo Lin Yao’s flat. Except this time the assassin jumps Sherlock and his life is threatened…oh shit, maybe he does need John after all. (Not to mention that it was John who figured out that Van Coon and Lukis went to the Lucky Cat, which is where I think Sherlock gets the idea to “train” John on The Bruce Partington Plans case in The Great Game.)

After that Sherlock finally admits that having John along benefits him as well, so he decides to bring him along from now on if only for physical safety purposes…only to have John reject his offer because of his date with Sarah. So from Sherlock’s point-of-view this is three acts of betrayal by John already in this episode. (Now, John only does this because he feels like Sherlock doesn’t really need him, and Sherlock doesn’t tell John that he wants him along because it might be dangerous. Otherwise I have no doubt that John would have cancelled the date to go protect Sherlock.)

Still, Sherlock manages manipulate John into coming along anyway, and by the end of the episode John (and Sarah!) comes through for Sherlock, saving him TWICE.

Basically, in A Study in Pink, John makes Sherlock feel accepted, and Sherlock makes John feel useful, which was what they both craved and needed, hence their almost immediate friendship. In The Blind Banker though, they do the complete opposite to each other: Sherlock makes John feel useless by leaving him in the dark/locked out of the crime scenes, and John makes Sherlock feel rejected with the “colleague” comment, and then by siding with all the “normal people” (Sebastian, Dimmock, and Sarah) instead of Sherlock. However, they’re able to reverse this: after saving his life a couple of times again, John realizes that he is actually necessary to Sherlock, and Sherlock even says “I need your help” at the circus. Meanwhile, John slowly realizes that Sherlock is right and eventually sides with him against both Sebastian and Dimmock (and he breaks-up with Sarah in the long run). Then of course by saving Sherlock again despite his own life being in danger, he shows that he does actually care quite a bit about Sherlock.



But I think after this Sherlock becomes a bit wary and questions John’s unconditional acceptance of him which he had assumed after the events in A Study in Pink, and it’s not until John offers to die for him at the pool that Sherlock is sure of it again.

Sherlock really, really, really likes John by the end of A Study in Pink; I might even argue that he’s already in-love with John by this point, even if he doesn’t acknowledge it. By the end of The Blind Banker though, he’s not sure if John loves him back or if he’s protecting Sherlock out of some sense of obligation/duty. Then at the pool, Sherlock realizes that even if it’s not love, it’s goddamn close enough.

The thing is too though, that I’m not sure if John himself knows either why exactly he’s with Sherlock, whether it’s out of gratefulness or love or what, because Sherlock just doesn’t fit any of John’s notions about those things. It’s very likely that John discovers that he does indeed love Sherlock at about the same moment Sherlock does, when both of their lives are seriously threatened.

Mycroft and The Low Tar Cigarette

 (Sherlock Meta by ibelieveinmycroft and thenorwoodbuilder)

Sherlock: Do you ever wonder if there's something wrong with us?
Mycroft: All lives end, all hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock.
Sherlock: This is low tar!

ibelieveinmycroft:

I love this scene. I love this moment. I love that the cigarettewas low tar.

Imagine Mycroft’s thinking: believing Irene dead, and knowing his brother would be upset, wants to both help and test Sherlock with that cigarette. But, well aware that Sherlock has been trying to quit and uses nicotine patches, and also thinking of his health, Mycroft acquires low tar cigarettes to that ends.

Of course, Sherlock notices.

thenorwoodbuilder:

Ok, folks. As I’ve been recklessly [;-)] encouraged to express a totally crazy speculation of mine about the “low tar cigarette affair”, I’m going to ramble - be warned.

However, I must make a preliminary remark: the saner part of my brain finds ibelieveinmycroft’s explanation of Mycroft’s choice of cigarettes perfectly reasonable and most probable. But the crazier, more bizarre part of my mind feels the need to build upon this simple choice of a low tar cigarette a whole castle of suppositions… which I’m now going to inflict upon you.

First question: does Mycroft himself smoke? Against: John tells him “you don’t smoke” and we actually don’t see him smoking in any other circumstance. For: he not only has cigarettes and lighter in the morgue (where he could well have brought them just to test Sherlock), but we see him smoking in front of Speedy’s in A Scandal in Belgravia. Besides, Sherlock doesn’t appear surprised when his brother produces a cigarette and a lighter, as if he knew that Mycroft, at least occasionally, smokes. Against: when he meets John in front of Speedy’s, Mycroft replies to John’s remark that he “also doesn’t frequent cafes”, meaning - presumably - that he USUALLY doesn’t frequent cafes, as well as he USUALLY doesn’t smoke; he also makes a quite disgusted face when inhaling the smoke from the cigarette, like he was not accustomed to smoking. For: he, after all, sometimes DOES frequent cafes, and therefore maybe he also sometimes smokes (as we see him doing in this case); his disgusted face may be caused by the same aversion to low tar tobacco that his little brother displayed in the morgue. Against: he could have just find in his pocket the same pack of cigarettes and the same lighter that he used to test Sherlock in the morgue and, being nervous or wanting to look nervous in Watson’s eyes, he just followed an impulse to light himself a cigarette. For: since the “test” at the morgue to the meeting at Speedy’s six months have passed, Mycroft doesn’t even wear the same suit and, in any case, a neat and fastidious person like him wouldn’t be still carrying in his pocket cigarettes and lighter from six months before, if he had not use for them, just out of distraction. Finally, and most of all, a friend of mine, a heavy smoker and acquainted with smokers of any sort, ensures me that only a smoker would take the pain to carry upon his person cigarettes and lighter.

So, all “fors” and “againsts” considered, my final assumption is that Mycroft is, after all, a smoker, albeit maybe just an occasional one, or one of those persons who smoke a couple of cigarettes per day.

But here we are still in the realm of (almost) sanity… Now, instead, I’m going to throw myself into more reckless and acrobatic speculations. Because the second question is: what might we deduce about Mycroft’s personality from the fact that he, as a smoker, chooses to smoke low tar cigarettes that he, quite apparently, doesn’t enjoy so much?

Ladies and gentlemen, enter the trapezist!

So, Mycroft - according to assumption N.1 - is a smoker. He’s not a heavy smoker, unlike his brother (we know that Sherlock Holmes is an heavy smoker from the Canon; but also from Sherlock’s attitude towards nicotine patches and cigarettes in the episodes, we can safely assume the same for his modern counterpart). Sherlock is probably the kind of person who either smokes 60 cigarettes per day, or needs to quit completely, because he is no man for half measures; Mycroft is more the kind of person who keeps the number of cigarettes he daily smokes quite low (2-4), but doesn’t even try to quit. He, besides, chooses low tar cigarettes, which he himself doesn’t enjoy any more than his little brother does, but that are - allegedly… - less harmful for the health. So he keeps doing an unhealty thing, but tries to limit the damage by smoking moderately and choosing low tar cigarettes (which he doesn’t like). Put this togheter with him being apparently on a permanent diet - but at the same time being significantly framed twice near a glass of alcohol; with him keeping an umbrella with every kind of weather; with him disliking and rejecting “legwork” - that is, unnecessary human interactions; with him always being the perfect, traditional, even stereotypical English gentleman; and what do you obtain?

I think you obtain the picture of a man who, consciously or (more probably) unconsciously decided to seclude himself from life. He is better at human interaction, on a superficial level, than his younger brother, but all his human relationships (with the only exception of the one with his brother, which is, however, “complicate”) are, actually, quite superficial and, ultimately, meaningless (useful, of course, but humanely meaningless). He retreated from life and he doesn’t ever knows (or doesn’t aknowledge anymore) that a part of him, deeply inside, regrets it. He doesn’t like risks - that is, not risks related to his work, but the kind of risks that life implies, that human relationships imply: the risk of suffering that is always inextricably linked to the pursuing of happiness. “Caring is not an advantage” also because, if you care for someone, you might lose someone, you might be hurt by someone. And Mycroft already cares - and can’t help caring - for one person, his little brother; but he doesn’t want to accord this kind of leverage upon himself to anyone else.

His personality is quite different from Sherlock’s: Sherlock, with all his difficulties in aknowledging his own feelings and emotions (a trait, however, from which Mycroft - the Ice Man - is not immune, even if he is more open about his sentiments when it comes to his concern for his little brother), is an extroverted person by nature: he is curious about persons, about how and why they do the things they do, about how they feel in given situations (he keeps being surprised by people’s different reactions to having just killed a person, for example, and constantly asks John why people should mind this or consider that…); he has chosen a profession which requires a lot of “legwork” - i.e., that implies, fundamentally, human interactions and the study of human interactions; he throws himself at people, like he were saying: “like me or not, this is how I am, and I’m not going to change: take me as I am or leave me” - but, in the end, while, at Christmas, he is surrounded by friends - John, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson and, quite significantly, Molly - Mycroft, instead, is alone in his vast house, staring at the flames in the fireplace like a sort of Redlaw just hopped out of Dicken’s The Haunted Man.

As much as Sherlock is not a man for half measures, Mycroft is a man who, instead, keeps himself equally distanced from anything and anyone (the only exception being his little brother, with whom, anyway, his bound, albeit strong and affectionate, is all but simple and painless, looking quite like a sort of “rubber band”). He wants to be the strong man who needs no one and who can be completely autonomous; even with his brother, he is the one in charge, the one who watches over and protects, the one who cares and help (being his help required or not), the one who takes the weight of responsibilities upon his shoulders. He presents himself to the world (and probably to himself) as a cold, impassive, powerful, independent, totally autonomous man, forgetting that it’s in the nature of the human being to need other human beings, to be in relation to others, to be, at least to some degree, dependant from others; it’s like he were constantly wearing an armour, which, conceived to shield him from the dangers of emotion and sentiment, like every too rigid, too tight armour, ends up blocking his blood circulation and freezing him, without him even being aware of it.

Ok, I know that I’m depicting Mycroft like a sort of cross between Phileas Fogg, Professor Redlaw, and Mr. Stevens from Ishiguro’s The Remains of the Day… (I’d say also Spock from Star Trek and Allanon from Terry Brooks’ fantasy books, if it weren’t TOO crazy, even for my standards), but I warned you that this was going to be a completely mental rambling… So, if you’ve kept reading it till now, you just got what you deserved!