A Darling Thing

Yay!  Your mum is awesome.  I’m glad it brightened her day. :>

I’ve heard A LOT of the casual audience saying the same.  They want John and Sherlock back together so desperately, and we know from setlock and the TLD trailer that John and Sherlock are at least talking and interacting in next weeks episode, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they are reconciled by the end of episode 2.  

It is smart to make the audience want it this badly.  The audience feels how wrong this is, and that’s good writing, imo.  I mean, as long as they are intending to give us payoff, which seems likely.

Love conquers all.

Yikes!  Definitely have to fix this one...

“John, please.  It’s not what you think, I...”

“Shut up!”  John’s right leg shoots out and hooks behind Sherlock’s heel, pulling his leg out from under him, and causing him to fall back against the door of the morgue cooler.  It knocks the wind out of him a bit, and sends his head spinning all over again.

John’s eyes are wild, mad with anger, and behind him, in the shadows Sherlock can see Smith, Kathy and the rest looking on with undisguised glee at how far he has fallen, how much he has failed.  It’s right, really.  It’s right that it should be like this.  He has failed--repeatedly--at everything that matters.

“Look at me!”  John growls, and Sherlock’s eyes snap to his immediately.  “You expect me to just swallow this, Hmm?  They’re dead.  Rosie is dead.  And it’s your fault.”

“John, it’s...”

“SHUT UP!”  John shakes him.  He sees swirls of red around the peripheral of his vision.  Not a good sign.

“There was a plan, and I...”  But John doesn’t let him finish.  His fist makes contact with Sherlock’s cheek hard enough that stars pop in front of his eyes.  He’s on the floor, and John is coming for him again.  He doesn’t care.  What does it matter?

John’s knuckles are hot as they curl into the fabric of his collar and brush against his neck.  He yanks him upwards.  “Keep your mouth shut for fuck’s sake,” he hisses in his ear, and then he is yanking him back to his feet, shoving him back against the wall again, and turning, reaching inside the folds of his jacket and...

There is a gun.  Smith’s eyes widen.  He laughs once, a high pitched, near maniacal thing that makes Sherlock’s eyes water, and his ears ring.

“We’re walking out of here, and you’re letting us John says in that tone that brooks no refusal.”

Smith laughs again, and bursts into flames.  It’s wrong, wrong.  Alarms go off above them and lights burst in front of Sherlock’s eyes as the sharp sound pierces through his head.  He falls...

“Sherlock.  Jesus Sherlock, open your eyes.  Come on.  For me, okay.  Open them.”

For me...  For John Sherlock would do anything.

He forces his eyes open.  There is only light.  It burns (like fire).  He can’t breathe, weight on his chest, throat so tight...

“Don’t fight it.  You’re okay.  You’re safe.  It’s okay.”

The ringing resolves into a steadier staccato of beeps.

“That’s it.  There you go.”

Sherlock screws his eyes shut and then opens them again to the silvery ghost of John hovering over him.  There is a deep furrow between his brows, a grim line to the set of his mouth, and his eyes glimmer in the bright light of the room (hospital room?), as he slowly comes into higher focus.  

John smiles soft and tight.  He huffs out something that sounds like have laugh, half sob.  “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Sherlock just shakes his head.  it’s hazy.  He was at the hospital, and then Smith’s office and then the morgue, and there had been the syringe...  

Oh.  The drug.

“You nearly died,” John chokes.

Sherlock tries to form an apology, and that is when he realises he’s intubated, windows all along one wall, nurses outside.  Intensive care.

“Don’t.  Don’t try to talk, okay.”  John doesn’t seem angry.  Not really.  He seems tired.  He seems relieved, as he sweeps the hair away from Sherlock’s forehead, and then leaves his hand there, a comforting anchor of warmth in the midst of so much sterility. 

“Just about didn’t get to you in time.”  There are tears in John’s eyes, and one spills over to slide down his cheek, into the creases the worry, and grief, and loss have etched there.  “You’ve got to stop doing this.  Promise me, Sherlock.  No more.”

Sherlock nods because it’s all he can do.  It’s the very least he can do.

Yep.

This is the television test pattern composed of SMPTE colour bars:

This is the order of the colours of the rainbow:

These are the colours appearing in a lot of the SS4 animated promo pics:

I think it’s pretty clear that the promo pics are supposed to look like a break in tv/video signal, with bits of test patterns breaking through.  This was even more evident on some of the earlier animated pieces (like the pbs 221b under water one I believe) where the colours were actually in the order of the test pattern.

So anyway, not rainbows, SMPTE colour bars, or general tv interference.

I know.  It’s going to be such a painful road this season. 😭😭😭

All the nose nuzzles and kisses!  And congrats about your finals being over!

That’s fine.  Do what you need to be safe.  

I don’t intend to harp on it, so if you want to come back after today, I will have dropped it, no doubt.  It’s mostly just me responding to Mark’s statements today and answering a couple asks.  I still fully intend to have fun and engage with all the new content.  But as someone who also suffers from anxiety, I totally know where you’re coming from.

I’m not angry at the people who asked.  Mark and Steven are under absolutely no obligation to answer them in this sort of format, and yet Mark chose to anyway.  

It’s not just his intelligence, it’s his own agency, his own ability to take care of himself, and build a life for himself as an adult man.  Like it hurts me that he might actually think of himself as a baby that needs that level of care, and it hurts more than he might actually think that that is how John sees him, too.  Because I think that there is a certain level of self-hate wrapped up in it.

It was hard from the recounting of the clip to tell if John and Lestrade really were talking about the baby and Sherlock was just confused (which seems incredibly vulnerable, and socially awkward even for Sherlock), or whether John and Lestrade really were half jokingly referring to the baby and Sherlock at once, which would just make them dicks in my estimation.

I’m going to wait and watch the clip myself, tomorrow night, before I get my knickers in a twitch over it.  But it does break my heart.  

Thank you. :)

I’m not sure, honestly.  I’ve read so many articles this last week.  I know I read at least one thing from George, but it might not be the one you are talking about.  Link?

Yeah, I don’t want television news, and I only read the two you mentioned and The Guardian.  I think that it’s social media that is the worst for me right now.  I don’t know.  I’m also EXTREMELY stressed out with insane deadlines at work, so that isn’t helping.  I don’t have any mental space to grieve because of work, and that’s really not helping me at all.