【Howard】Stockholm Experiment

thirteen

"If I were you, I'd ask Mary to contact someone else to help you, and see who knocked before jumping out the window," Sherlock said behind his back.

At this moment a homeless man came down from upstairs and greeted Sherlock.

It turned out that the homeless person hired by Sherlock had just knocked on the door, and he himself had come here to wait for a rabbit to come, and he always knew what John was thinking.

The streets of London were full of traffic as usual, and the sound of horns and chaotic human voices mixed into a busy atmosphere. Amidst all the boiling and bustling beauty around him, Sherlock saw John's mouth opening and closing calmly.

He said, "Sherlock, let each other go."

So the world has no sound.

He actually said, let each other go.

Why did John want to leave so much?Why did he keep refusing to accept him? Sherlock can detect all kinds of cases without letting go of all kinds of clues, but he can't detect feelings, let alone John.

If he let go, John would go away; if he held tight, John would loathe him.

What a dilemma.

"Can I ask you a few last questions?" Sherlock's voice softened suddenly, with a slight tremor.

"Just say it from there." John pulled one foot back, but didn't let his guard down, the distance between them was enough for him to turn and walk away in time.

"What you wrote on those papers..."

"Fake, I wrote it for you." John answered first, as if he didn't want to hear the lingering words he had written.

"Your pulse quickened."

"I'm just nervous. After all, it's very difficult to deceive you."

"You have had a fever for more than ten days."

"You bathe in cold water every night and then blow it to the wind, and you still have a fever. The coughing up blood is because I bit the inside of my lip prematurely. Sherlock, you are the detective and I am the doctor."

John was a doctor, and he knew better than anyone the risks of getting other diseases, Sherlock thought, what was it that made him leave without hesitation.

"Then what you said about loving me—"

"I didn't 'say' I loved you, since I started acting, yes, I acted for a month." In order to strengthen himself and not be moved by Sherlock's sad eyes, John tried his best to speak decisively.

Love sure affects a detective's powers of observation.

Sherlock had been genuinely happy and excited by what John had done, and it turned out to be all self-indulgent.If his brother knew about this, he would definitely be ridiculed for his wrong judgment.

Of course Mycroft should not know about this.

Now, the little hope that had just been kindled has all been dashed, and everything has fallen into the abyss, below the horizon from which it began.

Slowly, Sherlock stretched out his arms to John, and said with a slight smile, "I see, John, can you give me a hug as a farewell gift?"

John didn't dare to step forward.

But as if bewitched by something, there was a voice in his heart that kept shouting: Hug it, it's the last time. Sherlock wasn't one to break his word.

Sherlock just stood there, hands open, without any urging.

"Sherlock, you will keep your word." John asked tentatively.

"It will," Sherlock replied.

Just a hug is all it takes to get rid of him, John told himself.

He walked towards Sherlock, the distance of a few meters seemed like a long journey, after several inner entanglements, he and Sherlock finally hugged each other.

Sherlock buried his head in John's neck, and John sighed, "You'll be fine... you!"

A syringe was inserted into John's neck, making him unable to speak again, and the last expression before coma was disbelief.

"Sorry, I chose to disgust you." Sherlock supported the limp John, his eyes filled with indifference and coldness.