Evaluation of John's reaction to Sherlock in The Lying Detective

 (Sherlock meta by Ivy Blossom)

We knew from the outset that this series was going to be about demons. What’s interesting, and unexpected, is that so far it’s been about John’s demons, not Sherlock’s. We didn’t really think about John having demons, but I think that was the point.

Everyone in this story has a high-octane dysfunction of some kind. What’s always been true is that Sherlock is seen as the sexy, amoral weirdo who is secretly normal on the inside. John is the opposite. He’s a milquetoast, average guy on the outside, and an violent, rampaging action hero on the inside. Both Sherlock and John aspire to be what they project themselves as, and do their best to fight, dismiss, and hide from their inner reality. That core conflict is the fuel that drives each of them to despair.

Resolving this inner/outer conflict is the overarching theme of Sherlock. We see this very clearly with Sherlock himself: this is the story of how Sherlock learns to accept his human needs and emotions and becomes a greater consulting detective because of it. But running in parallel, we’ve now discovered, is the story of how John reconciles his inner monster with his stout, ethical heart.

We always thought it was Sherlock who was striving, and often failing, to meet John’s high expectations. But it turns out that the opposite is also true: Sherlock’s (and Mary’s) idea of who John is forces him to be that man, too. John knows he fails, but he doesn’t think Mary and Sherlock know this, and surely they would reject him if they knew. They can’t know how he struggles to be who they think he is. This series shows us exactly how.

We think of John as being moral, patient, forgiving, and above all, profoundly fair. But he holds Sherlock responsible for Mary’s death when it was clearly not his fault. John is meant to be the good guy, but he cheats on his wife and lets his grief and his anger overtake him when he beats Sherlock bloody. These things are so inconsistent, and no one can tell you that better than John Watson himself. He hates this about himself. These are his demons. He cannot live up to the expectations he has set for himself, let alone those or the people he loves. He fails them, badly and repeatedly.

That’s why John tells Sherlock to go to Irene. Because he knows what Sherlock needs him to be, and he knows he cannot deliver. He is a fraud.

Sherlock knows all about being a fraud. He is not a sociopath; he’s a profoundly emotional man who wants to love and be loved. Of course we know that by now. We know that the best Sherlock is a blend of all that he is, not just one or the other. The same is true for John. The guy who sprained someone’s wrist for not answering a question, the guy who shot and killed an unarmed cab driver because Sherlock was about to voluntarily swallow a pill that might be poison, the guy who beat Sherlock until he was spitting blood, that guy, with his desire to be loving, normal, good, that guy has the capacity to be a hero.

Sherlock embraces John’s inner violence, he always has. It’s the thing that first drew Sherlock to John, his improbable contradictions. He accepts, and even depends upon, the monster in John.

Is this a template for a good, healthy relationship? Uh, no. Are you kidding? No, these people are not moral exemplars by any means. They are profoundly and dangerously flawed people. But they have the capacity to be good, to be great, even, with each other’s help.