How John reacted to the ILY Scene

 (Sherlock meta by celticmoonbeam and waytoomanyhobbies)

celticmoonbeam:

Today I’m wondering about how John reacted to the ILY scene… Who has head canons about that that they’d like to share? Last night I had fun talking through the ILY scene with a friend who interprets it totally differently. She thinks Sherlock just loves Molly platonically, and I see him loving her romantically. (And we are still friends and we enjoy talking about it and seeing the other person’s POV! As fandom stuff should go.) While I was explaining my perspective, I was surprised how much I was describing things that happened in past episodes, rather than clues about his feelings in that particular scene.

My friend was surprised too. She loves Molly Hooper, but she got it firmly in her head in season 1 that Sherlock would never be interested in Molly, and so the little Sherlolly-esque details I fixated on slipped past her completely. She viewed all their scenes in light of Sherlock having no interest in Molly. (Again, total valid reading–this post isn’t to say that she’s wrong and I am right!).

Anyway… I found myself reshaping my headcanons about John’s reaction to the ILY scene. Now I’m wondering if he would respond a lot like my friend, automatically assuming that Sherlock isn’t interested and he said “I love you” just to save her life. After all, John wasn’t around for the vast majority of their scenes together. I don’t know that he ever picked up on Sherlock’s feelings. In TLD, he calls Molly the last person Sherlock would ever think of. So what exactly does he think is going on with the phone call? And how long does it take him to realize what’s really going on with Sherlock and Molly? After all the craziness of Eurus, I doubt that would be the first thing on his mind…

waytoomanyhobbies:

When the test first ended, John and Mycroft were ready to crack on like soldiers. Realizing that Sherlock wasn’t right behind them raises alarm bells. John turns back to find his best friend ritualistically placing the lid on the coffin, staring at the “I love you”, caressing the wood, and then repeating the word “no” before destroying Molly’s coffin with his bare hands. John is visibly struck by it.

John would have seen the entirety of Sherlock’s violent outburst until Sherlock finally spent all that emotion and slumped against the wall. He saw even more than we did of Sherlock screaming and breaking everything he could until he was exhausted. John has seen Sherlock remain calm in the face of innocents murdered before. Sherlock didn’t even have a outburst like this after identifying the supposed body of Irene, despite all Sherlock’s later melancholy. The incident would have to have raised some questions, especially thinking back to Eurus’s taunts.

John has been questioning Sherlock for years about his love life and hoping for Sherlock to find a relationship. John hadn’t picked up on it before then, but John has a history of wanting Sherlock to find romance, which could lead him to wanting to meddle. When John thought Sherlock may have found a woman in the two previous instances (Irene and Janine) John was pleased and very curious. He was very recently trying again to get Sherlock to find a woman who makes him the man he wants to be. John is quite invested in helping Sherlock find that romantic entanglement that he feels would do Sherlock good.

Not to mention that John has still only recently lost Mary, so how much of Sherlock’s outburst might have struck John as familiar from what he, himself, has recently gone through? It would be very odd for him to not start thinking back and reexamining what he’d seen between them.

It’s an interesting talking point. From my point of view, if John doesn’t know he should at least suspect. He’d be raising that subject soon enough if Sherlock didn’t take initiative with Molly first. John tried to play matchmaker for Sherlock only weeks before this, and he would probably be watching them like a hawk after this.

Series 4 and The John Problem 

 (Sherlock meta by mild-lunacy)

[...] Previously, we had thought that John was going to have to have an arc that was resolved in Series 4, in part because of the arc framework we had of the whole narrative, and in part because Sherlock changed in Series 3 and John kinda regressed, at least in his relationship to Sherlock. Specifically, we expected some movement, and ideally a resolution or major development of John’s sexuality. So, all that… did not really happen. If it did, it did not happen the way we expected. In my opinion, before casting judgment, this means one has to reevaluate one’s analysis to some degree, and this is my attempt at a start of that process.

My initial impressions of the first two episodes were that John’s response to Mary’s death was closer to rage than grief. I still think comparing it to Reichenbach too closely (let alone with the implication that Mary’s death had more of an impact, since he didn’t hallucinate Sherlock as far as we know) seems counterproductive. Further, I thought that this was John’s belief that Sherlock’s superhuman coming to bite him and Sherlock on the ass, big-time. It seems completely irrational because it was completely irrational, as he implicitly acknowledged by telling Sherlock Mary’s death wasn’t his fault in The Lying Detective. In any case, clearly John always thinks Sherlock can ‘solve it’ and/or is the master of any situation, or at least that’s the attitude he normally develops under stress. See: The Sign of Three and his demand that Sherlock just ‘solve it’. And, of course, John’s guilt over his behavior toward Mary is no minor factor.

John was also kinda drifting further away from Sherlock in The Six Thatchers, which is what I thought when Sherlock chose Mary as the better or more useful partner early on in the episode. Sure, that’s correct on the merits, but it’s not suggesting any sort of understanding or valuing of their dynamic as partners and/or John’s value (to John, anyway). At no point in The Six Thatchers does Sherlock directly demonstrate to John he values and trusts him, even though you could argue everything he does is for John. This is a continuation of the issue he had in His Last Vow (where he continued to help Mary because of John, or even instead of John). So John clearly felt pretty alone and even isolated.

As I said, I liked how subtly the infidelity and John’s continuing unhappy life with Mary was handled: it continued the tendencies we saw in His Last Vow and developed them by having John have the emotional affair with Eurus (yikes!), though it’s unclear how much of that was manipulated. Of course, he still chose to follow up, so clearly it’s a sign that John continued to feel trapped. The ‘Antichrist Rosie’ conversation in The Six Thatchers did show a certain ease and some bantery dynamic with Mary, but the intimacy was a sham, since he just started texting and flirting with someone else right after. However, we do see that the surface His Last Vow narrative was more or less intact. There was no ‘secret plan’ to deceive Mary, and John really did his best to follow through on Sherlock’s insistence that he forgive Mary. (This doesn’t mean that there’s no subtext, by the way, just that they don’t make a habit of returning to and/or redoing the plot of previous episodes.) As of the beginning of The Six Thatchers, it seems that John was, just barely, coping with his new role as a husband and father, but not very well. However, he blames himself and (by extension) Sherlock, rather than Mary or perhaps the situation he’s (partly manipulated to be) in.

Anyway, as I’ve said, given that John believes that it’s his and particularly Sherlock’s fault for allowing Mary to die, his complete (semi-psychotic?) mental break in The Lying Detective makes sense. We never do get an explanation, so we’re left with John’s Mary hallucination being apparently unrelated to the other hallucinations and/or unusual mental phenomena in The Lying Detective. I have to run with the assumption that it’s more or less a contrast or mirror plotline than something causally related to Eurus or Culverton Smith. Since there’s no ‘plot thing’ to mitigate this as I had initially supposed, it’s just that John is struggling with seeing himself (and Sherlock) as monstrous. There’s definitely some projection going on, if you go by the last conversation in The Lying Detective, where John talks of Mary idealizing him. Anyway, he definitely has Sherlock’s Otherness on his mind (Sherlock as a ‘monster’ tying in with the ‘superhuman’ thing). Sherlock’s a monster, but his Mary avatar says it’s ‘our’ monster (in other words, John’s initially repressing the idea that Sherlock’s his monster).

My thought process was that clearly John doesn’t think he’s Mary’s John (as he tells Sherlock), but he’s also not Sherlock’s John. And we see that quite clearly: he acts quite differently and/or ‘OOC’. He’s not acting like our John, because he doesn’t see himself that way. John’s having a significant identity crisis as well as a crisis of faith in The Lying Detective, essentially. Faith in himself as well as faith in Sherlock, as these two seem to be connected. We know that Sherlock knows him– he predicted John’s behavior 2 weeks out! he demonstrably knows him much better than Mary– but then, from John’s pov, Sherlock’s just that good. He could do that with anyone. Yes, it’s surprising, but it’s not really proof he’s known by Sherlock to John. Certainly, it doesn’t go both ways at that point.

As I said in my review of The Final Problem, S4 has John moving toward his own version of Sherlock’s claim that he’s ‘not a saint, not a hero’ in His Last Vow. Obviously, John’s not even pretending to be a ‘high-functioning sociopath’, which is probably (in part) why people would say this is somehow character assassination and/or OOC for John. However, in The Lying Detective, John was focusing on Mary’s idealization of him, much like the sociopath persona is Sherlock’s idealization of himself, more or less. These personas (both of Sherlock and of himself) were haunting him– sort of literally, given Mary’s hallucination. John being haunted is perhaps a better description of what was going on than John having a ‘semi-psychotic break’, since there were no other symptoms of an altered mental state except for being a lot more stressed (and angry– at Sherlock, at himself). You can take ‘haunted’ as a metaphor that is being made literal: John is haunted by unresolved issues, more than he ever had been. We’ve heard before that he’s ‘haunted’ by the war (because he misses it). And now he’s literally haunted by all the things he can’t accept about himself, about Mary and about Sherlock, which helps explain why Mary tends to say stuff about Sherlock that John denies or won’t admit. One benefit of this reading is that the Mary hallucination isn’t automatically a sign John cared more in some absolute sense about Mary’s death than he had about Sherlock’s. The fact is, John simply– literally!– cannot be with Sherlock anymore as long as he has these mental blocks and idealizations in place.

So anyway, apparently Mary predicted John’s mental state after her death, and told Sherlock to ‘go to hell’ so that John could rescue him. In retrospect, her claim in His Last Vow that John can’t know that she’s lied because that would “break” him and she’d “lose him forever” wasn’t simply self-serving bullshit as many people have thought. In other words, it always pays to pay attention to surface narrative, or it bites you on the ass. It was still primarily selfish, but Mary’s power over John (born of manipulation as it may be) is real. Regardless, it’s clear that Mary’s solution for John’s predictable issues was a further sign of her not understanding John. I was struggling with this initially– isn’t it a given that they rescue each other, save each other, as Sherlock said in his wedding speech in The Sign of Three? If the show is making us question this, surely something is wrong, and we cannot take the ep at face value. But no, we’re supposed to question this, I think, at least insofar as assuming John’s always ‘the hero’ is also more idealizing John, which John says outright that Mary’s always done. So, Mary’s theory that John needs to save Sherlock was born of that idealization, even though (of course) in the end John did rush to save Sherlock in the hospital.

Of course, this brings us to the extremity of John’s violence in the morgue, which people have apparently flagged as OOC. Initially, as in my post on Johnlock in S4, this hadn’t really struck me as starkly as it did others. My John has never been super-fluffy, and as I said, I agree with @thecutteralicia’s point that this is consistent with John’s adrenaline-driven desire to keep hitting Sherlock after the one time in ASiB (and in TLD, he’s obviously under a lot more stress, as well). For many people, it seems that John’s physical assault is a dealbreaker for Johnlock (given that no plot-based or other extenuating circumstances appear). That’s fine: that’s always the viewer’s prerogative. For me, it’s enough that I see the characterization as being consistent and a believable progression from past behavior, and I believe this fits that criteria.

It may seem like more of a (temporary) regression, of course. This hasn’t been unusual so far in the show– in fact, we’ve had multiple regressions coupled with any progress for the characters (The Hounds of Baskerville regressing after A Scandal in Belgravia, His Last Vow regressing after The Sign of Three, etc). However, here we come back to the issue of John’s arc (or the lack thereof). In retrospect, I agree with @birdymary that Series 4 confirms that BBC Sherlock has primarily been concerned with an arc for Sherlock Holmes, showing his progression from ‘great man’ in A Study in Pink to a ‘good man’ in The Final Problem, as proclaimed by Lestrade, and it should be judged on those merits. Sherlock’s journey to forgiveness has often been seen as having gone too far (as in, he forgives too much, is too self-sacrificing, has too much of a ’heart’, even), but I think those concerns all ignore the whole point (and existence) of the humanization arc in the first place. John, on the other hand, does not have an arc so much as character development. That is, his characterization involves periods of growth and regression, but it is not formally structured as an arc. The Johnlock arc does still exist even in S4, in my opinion, and it remains tied to John– but it is an indirect thing, largely tied to the subtext and interstitial places in the narrative. John’s growth and his relationship to and with Sherlock still drives the story but isn’t the primary focus. Further, in my current analysis, that joint growth in John’s characterization and in Johnlock culminates in The Lying Detective, rather than the final episode of Series 4. I believe this fits in with the expected point for the climax as suggested by the arc meta narrative, but I’m not sure and would appreciate further input on this point.

To reiterate, the lack of an explicit arc for John is due to the primary focus being on Sherlock’s growth, and his adventures with John as his partner, as Mary’s narration and/or the framing monologue at the end of The Final Problem tells us. John’s own development– being tied to the subtext– is thus also shown indirectly.

Initially, my main problem with The Lying Detective was that the purpose of John and Sherlock’s conversation at the end was unclear to me. It seemed vaguely like hetero-baiting. After all, John pushes Sherlock to pursue a romance (with Irene) and insists on its importance. John’s role in the show has often been to be the voice in support of human (including romantic) feeling, which is one reason for the tie between John and Johnlock in the narrative. Anyway, my conclusion so far has been suggested by Ivy’s reading of the gap between The Lying Detective and The Final Problem: that Moffat and Gatiss intended the viewers to fill in the blanks, and for the act of understanding the narrative to be highly collaborative. Thus, I’ve said in my Johnlock-focused meta that I feel that the The Lying Detective conversation was meant to be suggestive of the kind of subjects John and Sherlock covered, and the kind of emotional release and resolution that’s suggested by John finally crying, Sherlock finally hugging him, and so on. John admitted, painfully, that he wasn’t perfect, and he was haunted by Mary’s idealization and her putting him on a pedestal. By his final acquiescence to Sherlock’s gentle touch, John accepted that both he and Sherlock were only human, and he saw that Sherlock accepted that as well: “it is what it is”. In the end, that was all that John needed to start to resolve the main issue he was struggling with.

My initial read of the last scene of The Lying Detective was that John was ‘still breaking’ and needed to be saved; I presumed that this would somehow be the focus of The Final Probelem. Instead, The Final Problem resolved Sherlock’s arc, with both John and Johnlock being resolved in The Lying Detective. Basically, I’m leaning toward the idea that John was firmly on the road to healing both himself and his relationship to Sherlock as of their final conversation in The Lying Detective. 

I agree with @ivyblossom‘s interpretation in that they’ve clearly turned a corner in The Lying Detective (as indirectly evidenced by The Final Problem), mostly due to John’s development. That is, yeah, it doesn’t have to be seen as a corner turned in a romantic direction, but there are multiple cues in The Final Problem that it has been. I find John’s calm response to Sherlock’s calling him ‘family’ and Mary saying they ‘could become’ something more than they are, as well as his unusual use of casual touch at Sherrinford to be particularly telling. One can certainly argue about whether this is ‘enough’ or good representation, as I’ve said, but that’s beside the point when evaluating the best reading that would fit and explain all the facts, as presented in the narrative. Basically, what I’m saying is that a newly romantic relationship between John and Sherlock does best fit and explain all the facts, particularly what Ivy called the ‘rifle on the wall’ presented by Sherlock and John explicitly being stated as needing a romantic connection at the end of The Lying Detective. The rest of it is left for the viewer to figure out, but I believe it’s mainly heteronormativity preventing that. Otherwise, that’s the main obstacle to John and Sherlock’s relationship (implicitly) resolved.

[...] It is not within the scope of this meta to critique the way that all this was portrayed and accomplished, so much as to outline my reading of John’s characterization and his progression in Series 4. It’s indisputable that a critique can always be made, and further, that it certainly already has been and will be made by enough people that I need not weigh in on the subject. I’m left with an increased appreciation and an ongoing interest in the subtlety and the nuanced nature of John’s growth in Series 4. I would be thrilled to see fandom explore this further, but I am also satisfied with the canon as it stands.

Sherlock is actually a girl’s name.

 (Sherlock meta by notagarroter)

Can we talk about this moment a bit? I mean, really? I just finished watching my way through the entire series for the umpteenth time (really fifth, I think), and every time this scene makes me a little angrier.

I know the usual fandom reading. Everyone focuses on the previous line, “John, there’s something … I should say; I-I’ve meant to say always and then never have. Since it’s unlikely we’ll ever meet again, I might as well say it now.”

And they get their hopes up in whatever way suits them. I love you, I yearn for you, you complete me, you had me at “here, use mine.” Whatever they are picturing, it is not “Sherlock is actually a girl’s name." And so that statement is read as a joke and as a disappointment. And all the focus is on what Sherlock really meant to say.

Here’s the thing: I don’t think it’s a joke. And that makes this scene so much more heartbreaking for me.

In some sense, of course it’s a bit of a joke. But it’s not one Sherlock’s been planning for ages. It’s a response to what John said only moments earlier.

SHERLOCK: William Sherlock Scott Holmes.
JOHN: Sorry?
SHERLOCK: That’s the whole of it – if you’re looking for baby names.
(John chuckles.)
JOHN: No, we’ve had a scan. We’re pretty sure it’s a girl. (x)

Sherlock asked John to name his baby after him. And John said no, on an extremely flimsy excuse. So Sherlock asked again. And John laughed.

I don’t want to know what Sherlock "really” meant to say. I want to know, what was so damn funny about Sherlock’s request?

Of course we, the audience, know that Sherlock’s exile will only last five minutes, and he and John will be reunited shortly. But Sherlock doesn’t know that. Sherlock believes he is being sent to his certain death. And even if John doesn’t know that, Sherlock explicitly tells him “it’s unlikely we’ll ever meet again." Doesn’t that mean anything to John?

Sherlock has no children, and (there’s reason to believe) he never will. John is supposed to be the closest person in the world to him, and he has a baby on the way. Would it kill him to name this child after the most important man in his life? The man who sacrificed everything – up to and including his very life – to protect John, his wife, and his child?

Surely everyone knows that the gender argument is bullshit. My sister Karen was named for my mother’s uncle Charlie, who died in WWII. This happens ALL THE TIME. Especially after a war, many girl babies are named for recently deceased male loved ones, to honor their memory. Usually they are given feminine versions of the name – Georgina, Patricia, Josephine – but it’s not unheard of for parents to just flat out give a girl a traditionally male name, for rememberance.

And that’s not even to mention how many traditional boys’ names have been used for girls just out of fashion or whim. Paris, Dylan, Ashley. Nor to mention that "Sherlock”, being extravagantly rare as a name for any human, can’t seriously be said to have a strongly gendered association.

And then there’s Sheryl, Sherla, Sherleen, etc. if you insist on being REALLY gendered about it. Or take William and do the traditional Wilhelmina. There were LOTS of options.

Why won’t John give Sherlock this one thing? Forget the passionate kisses and grandiose declarations of undying love. This is what Sherlock asked for, and there’s every reason to believe it would mean a great deal to him. To be remembered, in a significant way, by the person he cares about the most. To have a small piece of him passed down to the next generation.

Goddammit, John. What’s the matter with you? Why won’t you name your daughter Sherlock?

I can’t even wrap my head around how wounded Sherlock must be that John laughs off his suggestion.

Naming the baby

 (Sherlock meta by notagarroter)

Q: Mary told John she gets to name their baby. Maybe he already suggested Sherlock and Mary vetoed it? That's why he's trying to play it off?

A: I assume this is a response to my earlier meta, Sherlock Is Actually a Girl’s Name.

What you suggest is possible, but… I don’t see any evidence for it on the show. Why would Mary veto the name? And why wouldn’t John just tell Sherlock that, if it were the case? It’s not that I can’t imagine plausible answers to these questions, it’s just that they aren’t in the show – it would be pure speculation.

It’s true that there is a scene in this very episode where John asks Mary for naming rights to the baby and is denied. So it’s not unreasonable to point to this as an explanation for why John laughs off Sherlock’s proposal in the tarmac scene – maybe John has no say in naming the baby.

But let’s look again at the dialogue between John and Mary.

image

JOHN: I choose the baby’s name.
MARY: Not a chance.
JOHN: Okay.

I’d say there’s more than one possible interpretation of this exchange. (Please indulge me in a bit of sarcastic hyperbole here.) Some fans read John’s line to mean, “I want a fair and equal part in raising our child,” and they read Mary’s response to John as meaning, “I hate you and am basically evil, and am therefore denying you any parental role at all. Also btw the baby isn’t yours, and I’m probably not even human, but an odious abomination released from the depths of hell for the sole purpose of thwarting pure, true, holy love such as that between you and Sherlock.” :P

There is another possible reading, however. Given the context of their relationship, and assuming neither person is angel or demon, but are complex, imperfect humans, we might conclude that what John means is, “I’m still really angry about your deception, so as payback, I’m demanding the right to name our child without consulting you at all, because I know that will hurt you.”

To which Mary quite reasonably responds, “Not a chance, we will name the baby together, and we both retain veto-rights over truly objectionable names. Your anger is fair, but it’s no reason to let our kid go through life with a name like Horsefeathers McMonkey just to spite me.” And John agrees to this.

If we assume the second scenario is more likely than the first, then the polite, grown-up response to Sherlock would have been, “I’ll talk to Mary about it.” Of course John shouldn’t unilaterally decide on a name without discussing it with the kid’s mother, but Sherlock wasn’t demanding a yes or no on the spot – he was just offering his name up as a suggestion. And given the precise situation (Sherlock sacrificing his freedom and possibly his life for their well-being), it seems likely to me that Mary would have agreed.

As it happens, I don’t believe Mary is the reason for John’s refusal to name the baby after Sherlock. I’m more inclined to believe (as many have suggested) that John simply isn’t comfortable with the larger implications, i.e. that Sherlock isn’t coming back (supposedly). It’s an emotionally-charged situation, and John isn’t handling it well. He is giggling and joking and relying on humor to get him through a difficult conversation, just as he did at the scene of his own murder. Sherlock, for his part, knows that’s all John is capable of at the moment, so he’s playing along with it.

Also it’s worth noting that Sherlock’s line (“That’s the whole of it, if you’re looking for baby names”) is a clear call-back to ASiB, when John offers up his whole name as a sardonic commentary on Sherlock and Irene’s flirting. Since the original line was a joke (albeit with an emotionally-charged undercurrent), it’s not surprising that John assumes Sherlock also intends the same line in a joking way. And I think Sherlock sort of does intend John to read it that way – he’s deliberately trying to keep the conversation light, and avoiding the kind of sentimentality that would make both of them uncomfortable.

But he’s not cracking just *any* joke. It’s my contention that Sherlock intends a serious undercurrent to his little joke – he brings up the baby names lightly, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t sincerely important to him. My best guess is that, however John reacts in the moment, Sherlock hopes that in a couple of weeks, when the baby is born and Sherlock has disappeared, John will think back on this conversation and reconsider whether he might want to honor his friend in this way.

[...]

Sherlock and The Social Dots

 (Sherlock meta by bassfanimation)

I keep seeing people continue to fight over Sherlock and the meaning of Eurus’ tests so I wanted to write a little thing on it. I’m doing this with a wrist brace on and heinous fibro-turd pain, so forgive any misspellings.

The way I have personally absorbed Sherlock and the meaning of Eurus’s tests is that it’s about Sherlock as an empty person. He is an incomplete picture until he begins connecting the dots that are his social connections and even more importantly, his emotions. Let’s look at his relationships one by one and I’ll explain.

Dot 1: Greg Lestrade 

Lestrade represents respect for authority. In fact, he is the only real authority figure in the series. He’s Sherlock’s ‘boss’ in a way. Bosses need people they employ to be reliable, respectful, and trustworthy. Sherlock treating his boss/mentor like crap, making fun of his intelligence and skirting around him at every chance he gets is terribly disrespectful. Sherlock is childish and arrogant and disregards Lestrade in most cases, even refusing to acknowledge his name. We’ve all had those bosses when we were young that we didn’t respect, so we act like spoiled brats about it even though those people probably have way more experience than we do. They have earned their position via the rout of hard work and being reliable and respectful. By the end of the series, however, Sherlock shows us he has resolved the issue of his respect for Lestrade by politely asking him, by name, a first for the entire series, to please take care of his brother. Sherlock is no longer a bratty child and he has connected the social dot of respect.

Dot 2: John Watson 

John represents friendship, pure and simple. John is literally the “replacement” for Victor, Sherlock’s best friend who was killed when he was very, very little. That left Sherlock as the empty shell that we see at the start of the series. The loss of his friend at such a young age meant that he essentially shut down the part of him that he felt could even have friends. He rejected the idea of personal connections with other people entirely, so that he wouldn’t suffer loss again. John, through all their trials and tragedies, has now healed that wound for Sherlock. Even more, John as Sherlock’s friend, has helped him connect all the other dots. He walked with him step by step to do it. Without John’s companionship, Sherlock would still be empty. John’s maturity helped Sherlock grow up and be the man he was supposed to be, had he not suffered such a terribly traumatic event in his youth.

One other thing John represents is family, brotherhood to be specific. Mycroft was very cold to Sherlock in their youth, even though it’s obvious it wasn’t always that way. In the family videos we are shown, Sherlock absolutely loves his brother. It isn’t until later, after Victor, that he feels so alone. It’s obvious Sherlock loved Victor just like a brother, like the brother he really needed but was taken from him. Sherlock says John is “family” in The Final Problem, and he means it. It also shows just how much emotion Sherlock has. His love is that strong. His friend was his brother, a part of his own blood, even if they wren’t born as brothers.

Dot 3: Mrs. Hudson 

Mrs Hudson represents a parent’s love. It’s clear that Sherlock has a very strained relationship with his parents. He doesn’t hate them, but he doesn’t appear to believe that they care for him. They’re not around when he is still basically a child in a grown man’s body. He has cut them off in his mind. Maybe they weren’t there for him in the past so he continues to believe they’re not there for him now. Meanwhile, Mrs. Hudson dotes on Sherlock, brings him tea and food and generally ‘takes care’ of him. She’s kind but not a pushover. She’s also led a life that is about as tumultuous as you can get, which I think appeals to Sherlock. He always surrounds himself with people who aren’t “regular” people. Mrs. Hudson holds enough action and adventure in her life that she appeals to Sherlock, and she is also loving and sweet to boot. Mrs. Hudson is the connected parental dot for Sherlock.

Dot 4: Irene Adler 

Irene Adler represents sexuality. What’s even better is that Irene represents fluid sexuality, and more importantly, the rejection of labels. Regardless of how everyone has interpreted this, when you get down to the simplicity of it, it is simply about rejection of boxing one’s self in. Sherlock’s box was his own making, his image as the “higher power” that Irene pointed out. Irene’s own box was her sexuality. Both of these people had discovered during the episode that their boxes weren’t taped shut all the way. There was wiggle room. Back to the sexuality part, Irene awakened Sherlock sexually. The entirety of A Scandal in Belgravia was loaded with sexuality, from Sherlock being naked and looking extraordinarily dashing, to the very naked Irene appearing to completely disrupt his logical thinking power. It’s as close to canon as one can get that Sherlock did sleep with Irene after Karachi (judging by Eurus’s reaction to his violin song for her). Sex and intimacy was something Sherlock had very much refrained from in his life and Irene connected that dot for him.

Dot 5: Molly Hooper 

Molly represents authentic love, or “romantic entanglement” as Sherlock puts it. Everything about Molly and Sherlock’s interaction falls in line with how everyday romantic relationships blossom. They began just like kids, with Molly having a crush and Sherlock being a jerk to her, ignoring her, or thwarting her attempts to date other men. As they grow together, they begin to close the gap between them. Molly earns Sherlock’s complete trust, which was monumentally difficult for her to do considering Sherlock’s fear of connecting with people too closely. Molly loves Sherlock through his best times and his worst times, unconditionally, even though he doesn’t appear to return her feelings. From small things we’re shown, however, it feels as if Sherlock does feel something for Molly, but he has compartmentalized it and buried it as deep as he can underground out of fear. Eurus’s test is what forced Sherlock to dig up that box, that box he’d put his heart in and covered it underneath the earth. Eurus forces that box open, and connects the dot of romantic love for Sherlock.

Dot 6: Mary Watson 

Mary represents, I think, coming to terms with one’s self, and the different shades of the self. She represents acceptance. Mary connected with and accepted Sherlock instantly because they were the same. They both came from dangerous lives, they are both morally gray, and they both have a need to be accepted for who they are, the good and the bad. Mary was in many ways, a reflection of Sherlock’s own duality. I think Mary made him question things about himself (no not sexually), and I think she also taught him how much he is worth as a person. She showed him that even though you are this person you’ve constructed out of your own pain, you don’t have to live just as that person. You can have anything you desire and still be you. You can live with shades of yourself, and those around you who truly love you will accept you as that. They will love you for the good that you are, and forgive you for the bad that you are. Mary connected the dots of acceptance for Sherlock.

Dot 7: Jim Moriarty 

Jim represented fear. He represented who Sherlock would have been, had he not had some form of love and connection in his life. He was a madman, a true sociopath. He showed Sherlock what it really would be like if he was who he said he was. We learn very quickly, however, what Moriarty already knew. Sherlock can never be like him because he does have a huge capacity for love. He’s hidden it, denied it, but it is there. Anywhere Moriarty appeared, it caused great fear in Sherlock. Even after his death, Moriarty was in Sherlock’s mind, chained up in a padded room like a some kind of caged monster. As much as Sherlock tried to be like him, he really feared becoming that. He also feared that Moriarty would be the undoing of his friends and family, forever a threat to their lives. Moriarty was an endless threat to Sherlock, an endless fear of madness and murder. Jim connected the dot of fear, true fear, for Sherlock.

Dot 8: Mycroft Holmes 

I admit this one’s tough. I feel Mycroft represents weakness. For all the power Mycroft wields in the government, he’s very fearful of being out in the world. He keeps people as distant as he can manage and still be a part of functioning society. He also did a terrible thing and locked up his little sister and lied to his family about it because he feared confronting it. All along in the series, we see Mycroft chastise Sherlock for things like having friends, being close to people, tangling with psychopaths, etc. Mycroft is a very soft, fearful person, which makes his nickname The Ice Man sort of ironic. Its not that he doesn’t care, he’s just far too soft to care. We see his softness demonstrated with Sherlock, time and time again. He cares so much for his little brother and fears so much for him that he constantly keeps watch on him. Mycroft also tried to help Sherlock by proxy, using John as a means to help Sherlock heal his wounds. In the end, Sherlock comes to realize his brother isn’t a bad person, and that he loves him deeply. In fact, he loves his little brother enough to die for him so that he won’t be left like he was as a child, without his best friend. I think Mycroft regrets being as weak as he is, because he didn’t do more to help his siblings. It just required too much care, and he wasn’t able to fulfill that. In the end, it is Sherlock who is the stronger of them, and he is stronger because of his connected dots. The last dot is connect by Mycroft, and that is Sherlock understanding that he is capable of protecting the weak, that he is stronger thanks to his mind, heart, and soul now being complete.

_____________

That’s about all. I only included the major characters here, the ones we see almost every episode. I’ve already talked a bit about how Eurus forces Sherlock to confront trauma, so she represents that last little bit which Sherlock needs to connect everything together. She wasn’t a dot, so much as the one who helped him see the entire picture he’d made. Also, Rosie helps Sherlock in her own way, as Sherlock now has this capacity to care for the smallest of people: children. Rosie is a teeny, tiny, adorable dot.

I mostly wrote this because I had wanted to for a while, but also because some people are still arguing about the 'I Love You' scene. They’re missing the forest in favor of the leaves. The bigger picture is pretty clear on what everyone’s purposes were in the show, and how they affected Sherlock as a man. To become a great man, he needed to be a complete man. All these connected dots make him that man.

What was going through Sherlock's mind during TLD?

 (Sherlock meta by Ivy Blossom)

Q: [...] I was just curious as to what you think was going through Sherlock's mind during TLD. How do you think he understood John deserting him? Like, why do you think Sherlock never seems to doubt John, or lose faith, as John himself did? What must he have thought of John to assume or calculate that John would seriously hurt him? Why would he think that? And yet, how did he still imagine John could or would return? Was he always actually able to predict John all along, or....

A: I’m not sure it’s clear that Sherlock was planning for John to seriously hurt him in The Lying Detective; his plan doesn’t require that. Sherlock doesn’t end up in Culverton Smith’s hospital room because of John’s violence. He’s there because he’s drugged himself to within weeks of his own demise.

That said, I don’t think Sherlock is especially surprised that John hit him. John has a well-known tendency towards violence, particularly when coupled with strong emotions he can’t process. When that incident occurs, John is already sideways coping with the sudden death of his wife by blaming Sherlock and pushing him away, so I don’t think it’s a huge deductive leap for Sherlock to suspect that some level of violence against him might ensue.

When John hits Sherlock in The Lying Detective, it isn’t even the first time John’s deliberately hurt Sherlock: Sherlock incited him to it in A Scandal in Belgravia, and John hit him in anger multiple times at the beginning of The Empty Hearse. Sherlock has every reason to expect a violent reaction from John, but to be honest I don’t think he was factoring it in as part of his over all plan in The Lying Detective. It wasn’t required.

It’s interesting to consider the premise of your question: what do you think Sherlock never doubts? That if he needs John enough, John will definitely be there to save him?

I’m not sure Sherlock is convinced of that. While John is riddled with self-loathing through The Lying Detective, I think Sherlock is, too. The Norbury reference tells us that Sherlock considers Mary’s death to be his greatest failure and miscalculation. He clearly believes that he deserves to be blamed for it.

It’s not clear to me that Sherlock is so confident that John will run to his side. But he’s prepared to pull out all the stops anyway. The plan isn’t for John to save Sherlock; Sherlock is trying to save John.

I think Sherlock is very much aware that he might fail in that task, and that if he does, it will probably cost him his life. He is in the middle of this potential suicide mission even while telling Eurus-as-Faith that suicide isn’t an option. Sherlock has decided to save John, or die. His very last plan, his own death recorded via the device in John’s cane, wouldn’t have saved him. It would only have been evidence to solve his last case.

When Culverton Smith is about to kill him, Sherlock says he doesn’t want to die, and he means it. He can only mean it in that moment because he thinks it’s imminent. He isn’t expecting John to break through the door, is he? Does that mean he lost faith in John?

Sherlock’s constructed crisis wasn’t a test of John’s heroism, which is frankly never in question. When Sherlock looks at Culverton Smith and realizes there’s no way out, it’s not John who failed. It’s Sherlock’s rescue mission that failed.

Could Sherlock predict all of John’s actions? He knows John very well, and he can predict many of his choices. But not all of them, as he admits. Sherlock thinks he’s about to die, but John makes a choice Sherlock didn’t count on: he saves Sherlock in spite of everything.

Season 4, the case of the missing Watson, and why BBC John doesn’t love Sherlock

 (Sherlock meta by thepurplewombat, 
addignisherlock, lawyermargo, 

conversationswithjohnlock, silentauroriamthereal, melmey-fanfics and simpleanddestructivechemistry)

thepurplewombat:

So yesterday I was reading @silentauroriamthereal‘s Best of Three, again (it’s a really good story!). And I realised that the John in that story is pretty much a total dick. He’s incredibly patronising and self-congratulatory about being such a wonderful friend to Sherlock etc etc etc, all the while being actually unimaginably cruel to Sherlock.

And I left a comment to the effect that I loved the story but hated John, and she very kindly replied that she thought it was pretty in character and I had this absolute oh my god moment because she’s bloody right, isn’t she?

And somewhere between Season 4 and Best of Three and SilentAuror’s comment, I think the scales sort of fell from my eyes with regards to John and the show. It’s not that Season 4 ruined John. Season 4 was the logical continuation of where they had taken the character, arguably from the second episode. Go back and look at the way John talks about and treats Sherlock, all the way back to The Blind Banker. Try to reconcile the way John talks to and about Sherlock with the way Watson talks to and about Holmes.

Season 4 John is not out of character. Not for BBC John. It’s extreme, but it’s not actually out of character. We think it is, but I think that we have good reason for that. In my specific case, I knew and loved the canon long before BBC Sherlock came on the scene. I know Watson, and I know how he feels about Holmes. So when John acted the way he did in Season 4, I thought it was awful, and terrible, and it came as a shock to me. Before Season 4, when John acted in ways that Watson would not have, I was like “well, maybe he’s just having a bad day’, but Season 4 made me realise that Watson hasn’t been having bad days, Watson has never been here at all.

We think that John is better and wiser and kinder than he is because we spend more time with the wiser, kinder versions of John Watson that we see in the canon and in fanfiction. We’ve been blinded by those Watsons to the truth of John’s character in the show.

And that leads me to another conclusion. BBC’s John doesn’t love Sherlock. We think he does, because Watson loves Holmes, and whether you think that it’s platonic or romantic or sexual or whatever, you can’t deny that there is love there, but John? He doesn’t love Sherlock.

I think he wants Sherlock. I think he’s addicted to Sherlock. To the cases and the life they lead and the danger and all of it. And I think that, like any addict, he hates Sherlock and everything that comes with him, and hates that he needs him. And that’s why the morgue scene happens. Because John, unlike practically every other Watson in history, does not love Sherlock Holmes. Because John wishes that he had never met him and wishes that he could live without him, and knows that as long as Sherlock is alive, he will never, ever be able to leave him for good.

Which means that yes, they really did do TPLoSH all over again, with a gay Holmes desperately in love with Watson, who doesn’t love him back. Except they dialled it up to 11, because everything has to be bigger and louder and hurt more, and instead of a straight Watson who still loves his Holmes, they have given us a John Watson of ambiguous sexuality who not only does not love Sherlock, but actively despises him.

(I also have some thoughts about how Sherlock has been moving toward becoming Holmes over the course of the series, while John moves further and further away from being Watson, but I’ll save that for another time.)

addignisherlock:

Why do you hurt me???

I mean, especially after s4, I felt more or less convinced that John doesn’t love Sherlock back, certainly not in the way Sherlock loves John so selflessly and unconditionally.

But to see you spell it out so well and dial it up some more….. oh my heart….. oh my poor Sherlock…. it makes this scene THAT much more painful to watch:

lawyermargo:

I believe you are absolutely right and I think that’s why S4 has been so difficult for me. I had clearly conflated BBC John with all the permutations of John that are fan created. The fan fic and fan art Johns that love Sherlock; that nurture and protect Sherlock from that place of genuine love for Sherlock. S4 John’s character arc is divergent from those fic Johns I have read and I’m starting to see that is on me, not the BBC writers. I now have to figure out if I can go back to the fan created Johns and enjoy them for what they are, and leave BBC John behind. I’m still trying to decide.

thepurplewombat:

@lawyermargo we all did, I think. But the good thing is that fanon John is much closer to canon Watson than John is! I’m not sure if that’s a comfort to you or not, but we are not, and we were not, wrong. The John Watson we see is the real John Watson. It’s the BBC version that’s out of character.

Also, there are other Johns. Try Granada! Granada John is beautiful.

Or read canon and just imagine Martin’s face on it.

lawyermargo:

@high5sandchocolate, I think this is good analysis of why we’ve been struggling with S4.

conversationswithjohnlock:

I’m so glad someone is saying this and not getting bashed for it. Before S4 I rewatched all of S1, S2, and S3 with my kids. And to be honest, I hadn’t rewatched it all for at least a year, and had been thoroughly and happily buried in fic adaptations of Sherlock and John.

I remember saying to my best fandom friend (not tagging in case this post makes her sad) at the time that seeing it all again after some time and distance made me realize that John wasn’t actually very nice to Sherlock. He was a bit of a dick.

I do believe he cares about Sherlock, and comes to see him as a friend, and I do believe John knows that he owes Sherlock his very life, and he’s absolutely addicted to him as a surrogate for the adventure. But he also blames Sherlock for getting in the way of the happy normal life he thinks he wants. He goes back to Mary because he wants to, because he’s pissed off at both of them, but he wants Mary, and he doesn’t want Sherlock. At least, he doesn’t want to want Sherlock, and he never gets past that. And he hates Sherlock when Mary dies because if there hadn’t been Sherlock, there’d be a Mary. Sherlock is John’s fly in the ointment, his virus in the system.

And I think I went as far as to say that I didn’t think johnlock was endgame, that I would love to see it, because they’re my OTP, but I didn’t think the show had given us a foundation for it. We’d spent so much time in hiatus, consuming fic and seeing subtext in three-second long clips taken out of context, and just simply dreaming and wanting, but I didn’t think it would happen.

I don’t like it. I don’t like having my johnlock-colored glasses ripped off, but John didn’t turn into a dick. He kind of always was one.

And maybe that explains why I’ve found myself drawn more and more to Victorian johnlock lately, and why I don’t really write fixits, preferring AU.

At the end of it all I still find myself shaking my head and asking, “This? This is the story they wanted to tell?”

silentauroriamthereal:

Okay. So I just became aware of this post earlier because I’ve been at work all day, and since it’s my fic that sparked it, I feel I should weigh in.

Here’s the thing – okay, there’s more than one thing here, but here’s one of the things: fanon always goes too far. I love being part of a fandom. It’s wonderful to have a huge number of people to share your interests and passions with! But one thing that inevitably happens is that the fanon view of the characterisations turn into two-dimensional stereotypes really quickly. I loathe the terminology that calls Sherlock a “gay baby penguin” and John a “human trash can”, etc. It happens in every fandom, not just ours! What this practise does is reduce these complex and multi-layered characters into so much less than what they are.

That said, I’ve always been a fan who identified more with Sherlock than with John, and maybe because of that, I’ve always seen and disliked John’s cruelty. I just started watching the Big Bang Theory and I feel the same way about Sheldon, whom I identify with less, but I’m still completely appalled by how his friends treat him sometimes. He’s infuriating, as Sherlock can be, but Sheldon is clearly autistic or somewhere on that spectrum. He’s not insane, yet his friends constantly refer to him as being crazy. He’s eccentric and neurotic and completely frustrating sometimes, but that’s no reason to treat him that way. I feel like this is the popular view, though, to have the show’s “regular person” there as a foil to show how smart/odd/different the special character is, which isn’t at all to say that John and Leonard aren’t special in their own right. We’re meant, I think, to accept John’s regular treatment of Sherlock as normal, and that’s a larger problem than in this show alone.

And THAT said, I still have further issues with how John treats Sherlock, and more than just in series 3 and 4. I’ve found that John regularly assumes the worst of Sherlock intentions without confirming them, and Sherlock is frequently too focused on the larger problem to care to correct John. Far from being the machine John thinks he is, Sherlock is extraordinarily compassionate. If he chooses not to show it, or focuses his response into finding practical solutions, that doesn’t take away from this. Consider their exchange in The Great Game: 

John: Try and remember there’s a woman here who might die. 

Sherlock: What for? There are hospitals full of people dying, Doctor. Why don’t you go and cry by their bedside and see what good it does them? 

John took that to mean that Sherlock didn’t care about anyone’s death, whereas Sherlock rather failed to explain that what he was doing was solving the case and thereby far more useful than sitting around expressing sadness. It happens again and again. Later in the same episode, John gets all snarly and furious when Sherlock expresses admiration for the intellectual intricacy of Moriarty’s planning. He doesn’t condone it. It’s just a passing remark, yet John immediately jumps to the conclusion that Sherlock doesn’t care about any of the people involved as potential victims. And yet it’s always been clear that Sherlock cares. His face, upon hearing that the old woman’s building was blown up, is such that even John, despite his views, reaches instinctively out to console him, gripping the back of his chair rather than Sherlock’s actual shoulder. But it still happens over and over again. John clings to this narrative that Sherlock doesn’t care about people. It’s this unfounded bias that makes him only see certain aspects of Sherlock. I mean, to an extent we all do that, but John takes it to special new levels.

Which brings me to my next point: John Watson is incredibly, ridiculously, obnoxiously emotionally repressed.

He’s driven to actually saying it out loud during the scene in which he forgives Sherlock on the train in The Empty Hearse: "It’s hard for me, this sort of stuff." No shit! This is a man whose partial proposal sounded like the most agonisingly reluctant proposal in the world. I wouldn’t have said yes to someone who proposed to me with that much difficulty! And yet, when John lets himself go and says yes to what he wants, it’s "Oh God, yes!" He has no trouble. What he has trouble with is acknowledging the reality of who he is and what he wants, and this cognitive dissonance between the two is what makes his life so difficult. He wants to believe that he’s a humble, quiet doctor who can live in the suburbs with his wife (not gay!) and child. He wants to be a guy who buttons his shirts up to his throat, literally choking himself in a straight-jacket of lies that do not fit him. What he hates more than anything is people poking at this and trying to show him the truth. He would rather burn a thumb drive that would tell him who and what he married than know the truth, because he already knows that he won’t like it. He’d rather base an entire lifelong relationship on a mountain of lies – and why not; that’s the premise of the rest of his life!

What John wants is the opposite of all that. He wants adventure and adrenaline, he wants violence, he wants to be socially inappropriate, which is one of the things that draws him so immediately to Sherlock. He likes that Sherlock’s more blatant failures to be socially acceptable make him look more normal by comparison. He wants to be awake at times when “normal” people are sleeping; he wants to carry guns and have someone to protect and defend. And just as Sherlock can channel his admiration for the intellectual intricacies of a terrorist’s plans into the practical and useful field of helping people through solving crimes, so John is able to stream his need for action and adrenaline into serving his country both in an active war zone and then beyond, in Sherlock’s work. It’s a complementary relationship – or could be, if whatever that narrative of John’s wasn’t constantly trying to reject it.

He gives in at times, making it more “acceptable” by naming what’s wrong with it (we can’t giggle; it’s a crime scene), yet still does it. When things get emotional or heated, though, it comes too close to pulling away the layer of what John prefers to believe about himself away. The person who most regularly does this is Sherlock, aka the person John would prefer to spend his life with, so Sherlock ends up getting the brunt of John’s lashing out because of it. John’s own psyche tells him to stay and talk at the end of The Lying Detective, but his narrative takes over and starts talking about fatherly responsibilities (because apparently a doctor has no responsibilities to see through his commitment during an intervention??).

I’m from Manitoba, which is part of Canada’s Bible belt, and I have known more closeted men than I can mention. I’m also a classical musician, so I know more openly queer men than I can mention, too. I could name at least eight men who are clearly gay, yet married with children. I’d be willing to bet that most of them are aware of the fact, but would never, ever, ever, ever admit it, possibly not even to themselves. My first openly gay friend was someone I met just after I finished high school. He told me he’d known for years and suppressed it, refused to think about it, dated girl after girl. Then one day, he was sitting on a train and had a bit too much time on his hands, and suddenly out of the blue thought, Oh shit, I’m gay. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. When he finally decided it was time to come out, his mother joined a support group for mothers of gay sons, and my friend didn’t know whether to be happy for her that she was getting whatever kind of support she thought she needed, or insulted by it. It’s so hard. I’m just saying, I’ve seen the behaviour, a LOT. John displays all it with textbook perfection. That come-hither, knees splayed wide open in clear invitation thing on the stag night contradicts his furious “I’m not gay!” statements. That level of fury is always covering for something.

I’m not at all deliberately overlooking Sherlock’s problematic treatment of John here, for the record. It disappoints me that the writers of the show constantly seem to want to allow Sherlock to develop a bit, then yank him back and regress him all over again. But we’re talking about John here. So yeah: I think that a lot of John’s problematic treatment of Sherlock comes from his narrative of believing himself to be all of these things that he really isn’t: a good boyfriend to his parade of girlfriends, someone who likes to sit around at home in beige sweaters and drink tea, fill in at the local clinic, start a family. It’s all a lie. The minute he allows himself to act on his urges and become the person he really is, then all of his more beautiful qualities will be allowed to shine – and don’t forget that we’ve seen those, too! John is NOT a “human trash can”. He has his bad days, absolutely, but he also has moments that are the reason why so many people, myself included, love him so much. Consider him checking on Sherlock during their Christmas party, his worried conversation with Mrs Hudson when it seems like Sherlock is grieving over Irene, asking how he’s feeling once they learn that Irene is still alive, how caring he is about Mrs Hudson after she’s attacked by the CIA. How hard he grieves Sherlock’s seeming death. We never see that side of him when he’s with Mary because he patently does not want to be with her. He needs her in the sense that she’s the prop for that narrative, and he’s never more furious with her than when he learns that she’s a failure in the sense of being this prop. I don’t see him having gone back to her out of any sort of love, because it’s never shown. He doesn’t even express any sort of love when she’s actually dying, and that noise he makes following her death was – speaking personally, at least – both painful and embarrassing to hear. It was a noise that couldn’t make up its mind what it was, and it was consequently rather grotesque.

So to wind up this long, rambly thought unleashing, I do think that John loves Sherlock, or would if he stopped doing what he thought he should do to maintain this false version of himself that he’d rather believe he is, because when he does, those are the moments in canon when we’ve seen him the happiest. It’s sad, but it’s not unusual, unfortunately. We could talk a lot more about how that unravelled horribly in series 4, leading to John leaping to blaming Sherlock for Mary’s death, which is in no way logical, and the awful stuff that happened as a result of that blame. John was the one who got bored and started actively looking to cheat, preening on that bus like a peacock and actively starting the text conversation. (Gross, John. I mean, yes, Mary, I get it, but then leave! The passive-aggressive cheating thing is so not a good look for you!) So John cheats, or does something very close to it, and Mary dies. Mary dies because her own past catches up with her. When Sherlock tried to fulfill his vow to protect her, she drugged him and ran away, abandoning her infant daughter and John both. Then, when Sherlock did basically the same thing he always does, Norbury was the one to pull the trigger and Mary was the one to defy science and jump in front of the bullet. Sherlock has no responsibility for either of those actions and to claim he did is to remove the agency of both the women involved here. Mary made a choice, and John blaming Sherlock for it took Mary’s very agency out of that choice. Yet I also get it: Sherlock was the closest one, the constant real temptation, the life he left behind, so when John’s attempt at living out his narrative failed, he turned snarling against the very person he most desired all along. That’s how that works. I’ve seen it so many times before.

So I mean, I get it. I get why people feel this way about John or have all along. I sort of have, myself, but seeing his negative qualities isn’t to say that I don’t see his positive qualities or all of the reasons that he absolutely does belong with Sherlock. I’ve always thought so and I likely always will! He’s got some serious apologies to make first, but luckily for him, Sherlock doesn’t seem capable of or interested in holding grudges against any of the people who have wronged him in any way. Mary shot him and he forgave her. Eurus killed Redbeard/Victor, nearly made him kill Mycroft/John/himself, nearly blew up his friend after putting her through emotional torment, nearly drowned his beloved John, etc., yet he forgave all of it in the understanding that she was terribly, terribly mentally ill, and reached out to her later. How much more would he not forgive from John, the person who matters to him more than anything else? Yeah – we could talk about how he should maybe consider not forgiving this stuff, but Sherlock really doesn’t seem to care about keeping a record of wrongs that way – with anyone.

John is flawed and damaged and has some major issues to get his head around, but that doesn’t mean that his lowest and worst is his most real, either. He has bad days. But his good days are rather beautiful, and just as real. He’s complicated, and I think that’s beautiful. Now he just needs to get his head out of his ass once and for all.

addignisherlock:

@silentauroriamthereal Thank you and bless you for articulating so perfectly well especially in terms of the dynamic between (bbc version) John and Sherlock because YES!!!! Everything you said here is exactly how I’ve always felt about John! To be really honest, when I first joined the fandom after s3 and started reading fanfic, I initially thought it was incredibly ooc that the John in fics are always portrayed as perfect human angel saints, I was very confused because as someone who came into fanon with zero bias and a fresh perspective of the show, it was just incredibly far fetched (to me at the time) that John – who refused to call Sherlock a friend in The Blind Banker, who still called him machine in The Reichenbach Fall, who still asked “but it’s Sherlock, who would he bother protecting” in His Last Vow – THAT John is portrayed in fics to be an unconditionally loving and patient and kind and perfect person? It took me a while to adjust my thoughts on order to enjoy fics, I basically had to accept that fanon is basically “AU with possibility of OOC that is deemed as canon even though not really” ….So yeah at this point I’m just so relieved to know that I’m not the only one who feels that way, and that people are starting to realize that fanon bbc John is NOT the same character as canon bbc John

melmey-fanfics:

@addignisherlock @silentauroriamthereal I totally agree and I am glad that I am not the only one with this view of the characters. I joined the fandom just before S3 and even back then I felt that fanfiction addressing John’s crueler sides felt more in character than those who portrayed him as a saint. I see Sherlock also as neurodivergent and while John is more accepting than most people he still doesn’t really accept that Sherlock is different not to annoy people but that he just is that way. And I agree, John is extremely emotionally repressed.

simpleanddestructivechemistry:

I have so much on my mind about this, but all of the above what @silentauroriamthereal wrote speaks from my understanding too, and I am also glad I am not the only one with this view. I came into this fandom very late too and definitely understand things differently, as I saw them from a different perspective and did not have that much fanon or fanfic to see those differentiating sides of the characterisation, as I only started to read fanfic after a while and after I knew the existing bbc canon really well…

And it all doesn’t mean I don’t love John or think he does not love Sherlock. On the contrary, I love them both as one unit two parts of a whole, who cannot exist without each other. They are flawed, they are rubbish at communicating, but they both do love each other unrelentingly.

“The last person you think of”

 (Sherlock meta by skydiver8)

Everyone is talking about John admitting that Molly is the one person who has learned to see through Sherlock’s bullshit, the one who knows Sherlock best, but no one has mentioned this line. This is the line that got me. John is accusing Sherlock of ignoring Molly. You can totally hear it in his tone. John thinks that Sherlock still dismisses/ignores Molly. But Sherlock hasn’t…he already thought of her. If he planned the entire thing, he knew John would want a second opinion, so he called Molly.

My shipper heart sees a parallel in the “omg text Irene back” tirade from John later. I don’t really think John assumes Molly doesn’t matter, but I am damned sure he thinks SHERLOCK thinks Molly doesn’t matter…and if it IS a parallel…then Sherlock, of course, has already thought of Molly in the context of this whole conversation about being human. Sherlock has obviously thought about how to be human, because he tells us that he doesn’t know how to spend the currency Mary gave him (his life).

Basically, John is wrong about how Sherlock sees Molly…hopefully he’s wrong both times.

Why did they have John beat up Sherlock in TLD?

 (Sherlock meta by Ivy Blossom)

Q: [...] Why do you think Mofftiss chose to have John beat up Sherlock in The Lying Detective? They didn't have to go there, right? What was the point of going that far, and then not even showing us the emotional 'pay-off' we assume happened before The Final Problem? Why do this if the point of the show is to portray the devotion between Sherlock and John and their journey to a legendary partnership?

A: Perhaps we can come at this by considering what narrative function John’s violence serves in the story.

First things first: an important part of John’s characterization is that he cannot express his most intense feelings in words. He doesn’t say the things he needs to say.

I don’t think you can overestimate just how much John hates himself in The Lying Detective. He has failed in every way that matters to him: he cheated on his wife (as far as he’s concerned), he’s abandoned his daughter. He’s drowning his sorrows in alcohol. He’s hallucinating. John is broken. He says nothing, which means he’s not yet completely broken.

The slow breakdown of John Watson isn’t just about Mary’s death, but that does bring it to a head. It’s also about the still-steaming revelation of Mary’s past and how she lied to him from tip to tail. He placed all of his faith and trust in Sherlock, and he failed to deliver. He feels betrayed, but unable to express that. He must accept things as they are because it’s the right thing to do, but he can’t do it. He hates himself for failing everyone he knows, and he hates everyone he loves for failing him. He is rudderless. Still: he says nothing. He hasn’t quite hit rock bottom yet.

And then he finally does.

When John breaks completely and hits and kicks Sherlock, he has been dragged into a case after forcefully pushing Sherlock out of his life, repeatedly reminded that he’s a failure even at the one thing he’s valued for (writing about Sherlock), and has to face that fact while waiting outside a loo while Sherlock gets high, literally on his way to killing himself again. Then he watches Sherlock apparently falsely accuse a man of being a serial killer and then threaten him with a scalpel. Sherlock is out of control too. It’s John’s job to keep Sherlock in line, isn’t it? But what good is he at that?

John is angry with Sherlock for letting Mary die, for betraying him, for failing to be the man John believes him to be. John hates himself for failing to live up [to] even a single one of his own standards. Hurting someone he loves, something he also did to Mary without her knowing it, is, I think, the ultimate expression of how broken he has become. He is there to protect Sherlock, but he does the opposite. It is his final and ultimate low. John is now utterly broken.

He does not apologize for his actions. Or at least, we don’t hear him apologize. He stands at the foot of Sherlock’s hospital bed and bears witness to the evidence of his rage, the damage he caused to someone he loves. How long does he stand there? We don’t know. How does he feel? Does he regret what he’s done? Is he ashamed of himself? He comes to say goodbye, but he can’t face a conscious Sherlock. He still can’t say any of the things that matter.

He walks out of the room expecting to never see Sherlock again. Mary forces John to admit that he can’t stop thinking about him. And that he hates himself. Is he sorry? I think he’s beyond sorry, but he says nothing.

Until he finally does.

I think the violence, the balled up emotions that never get expressed, are there to underscore the moment when they finally are. Finally, finally, when Sherlock asks John if he’s okay, he is truthful: no. He is not okay, and he will never be okay.

And then the floodgate is open. John says the things he never said. He asks the questions he always wanted to ask. Having reached the ultimate rock bottom, John is finally cracked entirely open. He is talking, and he is honest. And 221b blows up so that they can rebuild it and start over.

I think John hurts Sherlock in order to explode the part of him that holds him back. It is Sherlock’s guilt made flesh and blood, and it’s the action that pushes John to finally be brave to open his mouth.

An explanation for John's reaction as Sherlock says “I Love You” to Molly

 (Sherlock meta by Ivy Blossom)

Q: Ok but what other explanation is there for this reaction from John as Sherlock says “I Love You” to Molly? I really want to try and figure out what other reading I can glean from this because…. Why? He looks similar to when Sherlock proposed to Jeanine (although John is more upset in this photo). Why would Martin select this acting choice for this scene. What other meaning can there be?

A: [...] To me, this is a pretty important moment to pay attention to when you’re trying to work out where the relationship between Sherlock and John is at this point in the story. We know already that it’s changed; John’s long-awaited moment of honesty at the end of The Lying Detective and Sherlock’s subsequent acceptance and embrace is a profound turning point, so where are they now?

It’s honestly a bit hard to tell, because The Final Problem is a non-stop action adventure, and Sherlock and John have no scenes properly alone together. It’s also the first episode that isn’t about Sherlock and John’s relationship, which is super interesting. Why would that be? Because that relationship is now resolved and it has settled into its fated state, and we are seeing it at it’s birth. Literally: this new relationship between them began on Sherlock’s birthday.

So how does this moment help us understand what the new state of affairs between Sherlock and John is?

John doesn’t appear to be jealous; his flat out jealousy comes with a trademark angry smile. Is he devastated? Perhaps. Could it be empathy? Empathy for whom?

If John is feeling empathy for Molly, it means that he understands what it feels like to have to speak the most painful truth imaginable to the person it hurts the most to tell. We know John does understand how that feels, because he did the same thing at the end of The Lying Detective. It’s possible that he’s remembering that very damp and devestating moment.

Or: John is feeling empathy for Sherlock. Does that mean he knows what it’s like to cause someone you care about unbearable pain? He certainly does. Is it understanding that Sherlock knows he can’t give Molly what she want from him, he can’t be the person she wishes he were? He knows all about that!

But I think there’s something else at work here.

I think it’s is hard to John to watch Sherlock hurt Molly because he knows exactly how this much it hurts Sherlock to do so. Again. Because now, finally, after years of thinking Sherlock didn’t feel things, John knows that that’s not the case. He knows that Sherlock is not proud of the cold and casually cruel way he’s behaved most of his life. John and Molly, two people who love Sherlock most, have received the brunt of this in recent years. Sherlock pretended to be dead for the lulz, for one. Sherlock also created a near-replica of this “I love you” scene at a Christmas party at 221b and hurt Molly terribly. Sherlock has repeatedly hurt the people he cares about in ways that will never fully heal, and he knows that.

Sherlock wants to be a good man. He is trying very hard to be. But this situation is forcing him back into the horrible fake-sociopath shell from whence he’s just emerged. Going back to that, to confront the depths of his own past callousness, hurts him. And John knows that.

Who should be hurting the most here? Molly, obviously. But it’s Sherlock who combusts in an emotional frenzy and destroys the coffin.

John: Look, I know this is difficult and I know you’re being tortured. 

This is new. For a long time, John has assumed that Sherlock is pretty impervious to emotional pain, and certainly not harmed by casually destroying people, even people he knows well (including John). He’ll do it in a pinch. He’ll do it for a case. He’ll do it because it’s the best decision in the moment, right? Not anymore.

John says: “I know you’re being tortured.” He knows Sherlock far better in this scene than he ever has. He knows the inner workings of Sherlock’s heart. He knows what hurts, and he knows why.

What has passed between them since The Lying Detective to give John this much insight into Sherlock’s most private world?

I think what you’re seeing on John’s face is both empathy and love.

On John’s violence to Sherlock in TLD

 (Sherlock meta by materialofonebeing and mild-lunacy)

The scene of John’s battery of Sherlock was plausible but disappointing.

Before S4 I praised the update of John as a badass because it adjusted the old sidekick-to-hero power difference. What we got in The Lying Detective was the reduction to absurdity of that stance. Seconds before we witnessed John’s violence, John told Greg about Sherlock – and not about Sherlock – “We did see it coming. We always saw it coming, but it was fun.” We saw John’s violence coming; he shot a man in the first episode. Except for the head butt in The Empty Hearse, I, for one, didn’t bat an eye.

The violence expressed John’s rudderless distress but was not the only way to show us this; he already was hallucinating. It was, though, a conventional choice. Given both the prevalence of intimate partner violence and our acculturation, my need to explain John’s crime with PTSD, or in any way, might seem even a bit naïve.

Can we consider any Watson beating Holmes? I respect that others find it beyond the pale. I, however, can imagine a violent crisis between the men – one high and skilled in boxing and baritsu and one otherwise mentally faltering – which could have resulted in the rift Watson described in "The Final Problem" and Watson’s leaving 221B for the second time, as some interpret. I’ll think of this when reading Watson, about a year later, tended to the bloody fist of a frightened Holmes in the same story.

So, John’s battery of Sherlock existed within the realm of possibility. Still, there were other possibilities, and the creators’ choice was disappointing. First, the scene of John’s violence screwed up something beautiful, maybe motivated by a modern, jaded impulse about what’s smart. (x) Intelligent earnestness, characteristic of the relationship in S1-3 (and not warm paste), is what I expected instead.

Second, making love too difficult to work echoed a sad tradition. In treating John’s crime seriously, The Lying Detective left us with a version of John and Sherlock who should not have gotten together as things stood. Graham Robb, on literature of the 1800s and early 1900s, wrote of the “wretched end of most homosexual heroes,” attributing this to writers’ moralizing, self-censorship, and suffering. A happy ending today still would be (will be?) subversive.

In the end, my mulling over all this fails. I irrationally love the characters of John Watson and Sherlock Holmes and want them to be happy.

mild-lunacy:

[...] My own view is probably closest to Ivy’s, in that I can’t think they’re ‘making love too difficult to work’ because even in this, John and Sherlock parallel each other. In their difficulty, their brokenness, their painfully sharp edges. I mean, we definitely love their idealized selves in fandom, and create new legends around them as much as we psychoanalyze and decide when something is 'too much’. But it’s the characters who could really tell you when it’s too much, and I think that finally, in The Lying Detective we see that Sherlock and John see and accept all of one another. You could say that *theoretically* this should break them, but in fact it makes them stronger. If nothing else, by the end of The Final Problem, it seems they’re happy. It’s not a tragedy, after all. It’s just a brutal thing to watch, they’re definitely both traumatized, by this and many other things. Their brokenness is supposed to be something they can use, though. As Ivy said, John’s flaws are part of what Sherlock needs and can use. The violence is part and parcel of how it works, because Sherlock knows how to help John channel it, how to make London into John’s warzone. And sometimes it’s all too much, but that’s been true for Sherlock, too. Sometimes Sherlock himself is way, way too much. But somehow they’re exactly what the other needs and can handle. That’s the secret of their dynamic.

Of course, I agree, it didn’t have to explore this possibility, even if it always existed in the realm of the possible for this or any Holmes and Watson. But at the same time, this started in Series 3, 'cause they kept not dealing with the old traumas enough, ever since Reichenbach, and then piling on complications. John was set on a collision course with himself as soon as he married Mary and she turned out to be the worst possible option. It was a bad decision compounded by her pregnancy and further exacerbated by the ensuing series of events– that unfortunate vow, the shooting, Sherlock back on drugs and saying he killed Magnussen 'cause he’s a sociopath, Sherlock pushing them back together and John choosing to do it without dealing with any of their problems. Everything kept being swept under the rug, with the only explanation being that John 'chose her’ and he should just deal with it. So he let it go, and let it go, and controlled himself and held back. And then (as Martin Freeman said), he just needed an excuse when he failed again (this time to protect Mary). In John’s mind, someone has to be in control: usually that’s Sherlock 'cause as Ivy said earlier, Sherlock can do anything. Sherlock is his superhero; his 'commander’. Alternatively, of course, John *himself* expects to be in control, or it’s a personal failure. Remember how he took it in His Last Vow, with Sherlock telling him (ruthlessly, from John’s perspective) that he chose Mary: it’s his 'fault’. John automatically jumps to the question of whose *fault* it was that Mary was the way she was, and he wasn’t ready to take responsibility and accept this, but Sherlock pushed and so he did. Then, when another traumatic event happens, John doesn’t have any reserve left, I guess.

What I’m saying is, I think many of us knew that some kind of reckoning had to be coming for John in S4. But all the talk about John’s arc was mostly supposed to be about John getting better, not worse. And if he got worse, we expected to see him recover, step by step. And that didn’t happen. We got a hint, a first step, and I understand why that’s not enough for many people. At the very least, though, I don’t think it’s the same as the 'tragic gays’ trope would have it. In The Lying Detective, even if they didn’t show us everything, they showed enough that it’s clear they do always save each other, even if it’s not in the ways that Mary or anyone else would expect. Even if John can’t see it anymore, or thinks he’s not that person, he’s still the person who makes Sherlock better. And when John stumbles, Sherlock would believe it enough for the both of them. And I do think, in the end, that it is enough.