Posts tagged John Watson.
what we had it cannot be taken, it cannot be broken
and it won’t be forgotten
John putting on his jacket. Yep.
That seemingly offhand remark speaks so much of John’s insecurities and doubts about his own self-worth, now that he is (at least in his mind) rendered useless after he’s been shot. As we flash back to this very first remark, we now understand that John has truly meant what he has said to Sherlock’s grave: “I was so alone, and I owe you so much.”
The remarkable and extraordinary thing about John Watson is that… he knows he’s ordinary, but he doesn’t realize how he possesses such delicate, intricate, beautiful poetry in the simplicity of his being. I will not attempt him to make him into more than what he is; despite being an army doctor, he is still somewhat average compared to the forces of nature around him (the Holmes brothers, the consulting criminal, The Woman.) But he carries within him a subtlety and warmth and strength and danger that is all the more curious and interesting and fascinating because of his gentle restraint and tremendous control.
And that’s why a man like Sherlock Holmes wanted him for a flatmate. Sure, John Watson is ordinary. But as a conductor of light… he is unbeatable. Because the extraordinary thing about him is… John Watson doesn’t live for himself. He lives for other people. His purpose in life is to save them.
And deep down, perhaps Sherlock knew that he needed a sort of saving as well. He needed someone to save him from himself.
And perhaps he knew, that fateful day in Bart’s, with an instinct that even his logic and deductions can’t hope to explain… that this washed up war hero is the perfect candidate to save the one and only brilliant consulting detective in the world.
So yes, John Watson. Sherlock Holmes wants you. And maybe, it’s true that no one else will want you. But that’s only because only an extraordinary man like Sherlock Holmes sees what is invisible to every one else’s eyes.
… He sees you, John.
cries because perfect
• five relationships - [5/5] john x jim
Despite all the Johnlock feels in this bit, I’m actually more interested in John’s face in this bit. First he’s completely shocked by the threat on his life. He thought he’d left behind this kind of danger, where he could be shot at any moment.
Although he’s “seen the battlefield” while with Sherlock, up until this point I don’t think he realized he could just as easily be killed here as in Afghanistan. It seems a cruel joke for him to survive that, when he thought he was going to die, to die now in London, indoors, for/because of a man he’d met only recently.
But as the countdown passes, he doesn’t cry, he doesn’t beg, he doesn’t try to run. He’d told Sherlock before that, when he knew he was going to die, he’d said “Please, God, let me live.” But here, he doesn’t speak at all. His face moves swiftly from shock to acceptance, bracing himself for the gunshot that’s going to end his life. He closes his eyes and waits.
I think we see his strength of character here, as in many other situations, but especially here because it all happens so fast. He’s not only ready to kill for Sherlock, for what he thinks is the right thing, but he’s also ready to die for it.
First, one of the most observant men in the world thought John was flirting with him. Now, the most observant woman in the world thinks John is in love with Sherlock, just like she is, in defiance of sexual orientation. Look at us both. Neither of us are interested in men, yet we both want this one.
The evidence is stacking up against you, John.
I like to think of this moment as a turning point, because he doesn’t deny it again after this. I mean, they’re still not a couple the way people think they are. But they might as well be, at this point. They’re a couple for all intents and purposes. No one means more to John than Sherlock does. They share a flat, they sometimes share a room, they’re joined at the hip, and John loves Sherlock. And Sherlock loves John.
Irene is the one who must be jealous. John is the one Sherlock’s chosen. John is the one Sherlock talks to, even if he isn’t there. Sherlock always gets the last word, John says; their conversation never ends, but Irene can’t get one started. Sherlock sends John texts beckoning him, sends him texts when he goes for a walk on the moor, follows him wherever he goes. Irene’s texts go unanswered. John’s the one Sherlock has dinner with, in the end, even when he’s not hungry.
Irene turns out to be far more morally ambiguous than Sherlock is, heavily leaning toward the evil side even as she isn’t strictly evil herself. She’s willing to play with Moriarty if it serves her interests, in spite of the fact that he’s vicious and doesn’t care who will get hurt along the way. Innocent victims are his bread and butter. Irene doesn’t seem to mind that. Sherlock doesn’t mind either, per se, but he strives to prevent innocent victimhood all the same, not to participate in it. Irene chooses to participate in chaos while Sherlock always chooses to turn chaos back into order. Devil on the side of the angels? Perhaps. Irene is most definitely not on the side of the angels.
Knowing that Sherlock loves John, and that John loves Sherlock, she makes an extremely agressive play for Sherlock anyway. She knows what she’s disrupting. She knows she’s making john jealous and uncomfortable. She takes what she wants, that one. Or she tries to. She’s not even shy about it, not in the least.
Man, I love Irene.
Look at us both. Yes, indeed. She’s right: it’s a useful comparison. Sherlock isn’t interested in getting into bed with moral ambiguity, literally or figuratively. He’s got John, his north star of moral principle. Irene kisses Sherlock on the same spot John punches him: both of those actions are performed with love. And Sherlock, being Sherlock, chooses the straightforward punch over the complicated kiss.