[sherlock] Spirit and flesh

I've had sleepless nights, mostly because of John.

His second wife died last week.

I am very worried about him.

This is the same way he lost his second wife.

I feel that tonight is very long and very difficult. I always have some urges to jump out of bed. Sleep is knocked down, especially when I have no work at hand.

I couldn't help but sat up from the bed, scratched my hair, put on my nightgown, walked to the corner of the living room, stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, and opened the curtains to look at this bleak and boring world outside. Described this to John once, he always sat at his desk, stuck in a pile of stupid newspapers without lifting his head, and said I was a loner who didn't fit in.

I walked around the room twice in agitation, and I even glanced out of the corner of my eye at the secret little drawer where I put the cocaine bottle, and then I gave a long sigh, ran back to the room, ripped off my pajamas, Put on my battle robe, a long coat with strong pockets, and my blue scarf. It's a bit cold outside today, winter is here, and the first snow is coming.

I ran down the stairs, put on the deerstalker hat whose shape confused me but was very warm, and then opened the door of 221B and ran out. I turned around subconsciously before the steps, turned my head, and stared at the horseshoe that was placed upright Ornaments, the landlady accidentally shifted this little guy, I stretched out my hand and adjusted it to the left a few degrees, I habitually looked at it for a while, and then stopped the taxi while wearing it on the road Put on my black leather gloves.

It was already 20 minutes after I arrived at John's small home. I raised my hand and knocked on the door of his house without hesitation. I knew that according to the normal etiquette of normal people, at this time, I should give him Make a call or send a text message on the mobile phone, but he is my John Watson who has to come with me regardless of convenience. I don’t need any greetings when I visit him.

Since I have known him for so long, I have interrupted him so abruptly for countless days and nights, dragged him out of the warm bed and accompanied me to the cold cellar, squatting for 3 hours until he started to be in my bed again. The snoring around, those brainless thieves appeared.

But I didn't come here tonight to take him on an adventure.

John seemed to guess that it was me. Of all the people he'd known in his life, I was probably the only one who would be knocking on his door at this point in time.

He called my name right from the door.

"Sherlock?"

"It's me, John."

He opened the door and looked at me tiredly. His neck had to be lifted a little because of my height. I stood in front of him with my hands behind my back and smiled at him. I think he needs a smile, even if it is Casually, "Good evening, John."

"It's already early in the morning, it's past 4 o'clock, and you can say good morning to me in another hour." John rubbed his eyes. He was wearing thick gray home clothes and a pair of fur slippers on his feet. How, I can tell from his outfit what kind of posture he was sleeping in just now, but I don't want to say it, lest he get angry again.

"Can I go in?"

He stepped aside, waved to me, and walked into the house. "Close the door," he ordered.

I closed the door, took off my gloves, and followed him into his small living room. John bent down and turned on a lamp. Looking back, I have never seen him so tired, even when he was with me in the experiment before. I stayed in the living room for 3 days and 3 nights, and he had never been so haggard. I admit that I was confused by his miserable appearance, which made me freeze in place and unable to move.

I don't know why I can't speak, all I know is that I'm sad.

I looked away and found a chair. He waved his hand again and lent me the chair generously. I fell in and took off the scarf.

He looked surprised when I took off the scarf, "What? Holmes? You came to my house to sit around? Didn't you ask me to handle a case?"

"I can't trouble you every time, my dear friend." After I finished speaking, I stretched my legs and nestled on the sofa at his house, planning not to change my position for the next two hours. I worked very hard when I was working hard. , but when my laziness comes up, I can't get rid of it. I suspect that my habits are a bit like cats.

"Did you come to my house to sit around at 4 o'clock in the morning?" He asked me again and again. To be honest, his question was not focused. He asked me if I came to him at 4 o'clock in the morning. Of course, Obviously, this is nonsense, isn't it? I just came to him at 4 in the morning. Can he ask some more meaningful questions?

I held back my seizures, turned to look at him, and forced a smile, "I think I need something to drink, preferably with some warmth."

He shook his head and went into the kitchen, I looked at his back, I think his back boiling water is the same no matter in 221B or in other places, I can watch it for a long time.

Five minutes later, a cup of coffee with milk came into my hands. I blew on the mist and took a sip. The sweetness was moderate. He sat down on the sofa opposite me and propped his head on the armrest. , looking at me intently, he often looks at me so stupidly, I think he is trying to use my method, which is the famous deductive method, to explore the purpose of my visit in the early morning.

I looked into his dark blue irises and said bluntly, "You guessed wrong."

"I haven't even started to guess yet." He used that complaining tone again.

"I didn't come to condolences to you."

"You came here to see if I was exhausted and committed suicide."

"No, John, I'm here to chat with you."

He glared at me for a moment, "Come on, Sherlock, you're worried that I'm dying of grief at the bottom of the stairs at home."

I put down my coffee cup and pursed my lips into a straight line, "Well, you say yes, John, how are you doing?"

"You only saw me at the funeral 5 days ago, and I lived the same way as I did back then."

I spent half a second on his face, seeing the decadent stubble on his chin from the corner of his tired eyes. The observation process is very simple. The complicated thing is to blend these details together. I just happen to be good at this kind of thing, So I started to do what I love most and make a living with it. I was planning to expose the truth in front of him in one breath. It would be best if I could finish his five-day experience in one minute. Because I pursued my speed of speech to keep up with my thinking, he drank alcohol and vomited in the toilet 5 times. He hadn’t eaten for more than 3 hours. He vented his anger on his fist and the wall crazily. I said: " you……"

"Shut up, Sherlock."

Unprepared, I froze in front of him, blinked twice, "Let me finish..."

"I'm fed up. You know everything, don't you, huh? You think you know everything, and you want to show me that nothing in the world can hide from you about Sherlock Holmes. Will you die if you don't show off?" John Exhausted, he leaned back on the sofa, "Sherlock, I don't blame you for coming to me in the middle of the night, I don't blame you, you came to me because you were worried about me, I understand, and I accept it, but please, shut up , please, just tonight, let me go, sit quietly, it’s good to have someone with me, especially if that person is you, but please do me a favor, can you not say anything.”

There are countless people in the world who ask me to shut up, but only when John asks me to shut up, I will be obedient. I also imitate him leaning on the back of the chair, speechless for a long time, my eyesight is big Part of it stayed on his face, he ignored me, focused on his sadness, and then I became bored, I searched for small things in this room that could pass the time for me, I looked at the wallpaper, A framed wedding photo caught my eye.

I've seen John put on the groom's gown twice, and it's refreshing each time. The second time he married a lady from San Francisco, a beautiful woman with long black hair and big waves hanging down her shoulders Next to him, there are cheekbones that can hurt your hands when you slap them, light gray eyes, a serious mouth that doesn't like to smile, and slender white fingers stacked in front of you. I carefully observe the legacy of the second Mrs Watson. In the wedding photo, I found my shadow from the hostess.

I quickly withdrew my gaze from the photo. I have seen Mrs Watson before she was alive more than once. In the two years since John got married, I have looked at her at least a hundred times. I have to say that apart from her height being different from mine, she has eight Like me, she also has a straight back.

In this regard, I, as always, choose to remain silent.

John got impatient, "Sherlock, you'd better say something, you're sitting across from me gloomily, it's weird, you're a bit like a ghost."

I raised my eyebrows, maybe it’s because my wife and I are so similar, she is my shadow, my John, I didn’t make a sound, so as not to offend him, he is not easy to coax when he is angry, and the flames of war are difficult to calm down , "Oh, John, what do you want me to say?"

"Can't you sleep?"

"I couldn't sleep a lot, and I sometimes had to have anesthesia to get me a break."

He smiled, "Your super brain that can't be turned off, aha, I remember the time when I used to sit in 221B and sedate you to calm you down. Now that I think about it, I think it was a long time ago." He was looking at me, his eyes were shining in the desk lamp, and I was analyzing what his shining thing was, and he just shook his head again, rejecting my gaze, "Think about the past, I can see you every 365 days When it comes to you, your ghostly violin, it took me so much courage to blog that you play the violin beautifully."

"Most of the time my violin is so beautiful that it can make you and the old lady sound like fools."

He grunted, "Ah, our old lady, Mrs Hudson, how is she doing?"

"Don't worry about her, she'll have nothing to worry about when she has a scratcher, John, you shouldn't care about anyone now, you're tired now, aren't you, do you need to go upstairs and sleep for a while?"

He said, "What if I go to sleep?"

I stretched my legs on the sofa and found a low stool. I put my legs on it and stacked it on top of it. Like the Diogenes Club, which is much quieter than Baker Street, which I think helps to relax me."

"Sit until you want to leave before leaving. I didn't chase you away. I'll get you a blanket. Is the heating enough? I think it's warm enough. Take off your coat and don't cover it." He chattered After talking, I brought the bed blanket from upstairs to me. I put the coat on the back of the sofa and took the blanket. I was surprised to find that the blanket was the bed he had covered, and it had his smell on it, which was very clear.

"John, you don't need to cover anything to sleep at night?"

He smiled, "I'm used to building two beds, and I'm too lazy to go to the guest room to open the cupboard..." He said with a little frustration, "Those quilts are locked in the cupboard, and she folded them very well. I don't want to mess them up. You Just use mine, you don't mind?"

I covered myself with the blanket, rolled the fur trim around my chin, made myself like a baby in a swaddle, and I looked at him contentedly, only to get a smile from him, and then John said goodnight to me and went to bed went upstairs.

I think I'm right tonight, he really needs me.

When I woke up again, I rolled off the sofa. I was on the floor on all fours and couldn’t find the north. I squinted to see the strong sunlight projected in the curtains. I hated why John didn’t close the curtains 24 Hours are pulled up.

I got up and found the location of his kitchen straight away, and sat down beside the long dining table. John was cracking two eggs in the frying pan. I smelled it. I tapped the table with my fingers, and then took Browsing out of the mobile phone, flipping fingers on the screen quickly, "Bored, Bored, Bored, headless corpse... Well... the case that can be solved in two minutes is still only Bored. Britain is now a boring paradise where no one commits crimes Have you?" I hope the criminal can understand my distress and create some entertainment for me.

I raised my head, looked at the monotonous ceiling, and sighed extremely sadly, "In the off-season, the murderers may have all gone to hatch eggs to play."

"No matter how boring you are, don't use me as a knife."

As John said, he brought eggs and toast and put them in front of me. I think he can survive even if he lives alone in the future, and he won't drink milk tea soaked in eyeballs like me.

I went to the bathroom and did a quick Holmes way, I don't like beards, so I borrowed John's shaving cream and razor, I was back in front of my breakfast in no time, I thought I Really hungry to the point where my stomach starts to protest, yet I can remember all the scores of Bach but I can't remember the last meal I ate a few days ago.

I munch on a mouthful of toast and John is so still I think he's turned into a tree and merged with the chair.

I wiped my mouth with a napkin, took a sip of the hot drink, I wanted to shake his hand, but I couldn't, that would only make him feel more pitiful, so I acted as if I didn't see anything, nothing happened, I pick up my fork again.

John raises a hand to cover his eyes, but it's too late, I've seen his tears from the half second before, swirling in his eyes.

I put down the fork, turned my body slightly, and turned my back to him. I think I should do this. Turning my back to him will make him feel better. He won't like to be seen crying by me. He hates weakness, the most in the world. He who hates giving in to fate has to be number one, and I have to condescend to be number two.

I turned my back to him for a long time, and I heard his sobbing, and I didn't understand how much his love for his wife must be, must be, as deep as I was for John, because if lying in bed last week That's John in the coffin, and I'm sure I'm not just sobbing, I'm sure my nose and tears are coming out in front of my asshole brother.

"Sher..."

I heard him calling me, very faintly, as if pronouncing it with air currents, but I heard it, I turned my head, I blinked, I raised my hand, and approached his hand on the table, my hand Xuankong stopped, completely stopped in front of his clenched fist.

This is useless, the dead have become dead.

I asked John a long, long time ago what he thought of a corpse, and he said, this corpse is dead.

I made fun of him then, saying he was like a blind man who couldn't see the clues.

I feel now that I was blind then.

John saw death for the first time, he saw irreparable regrets and mistakes, and I only saw a bunch of cold and heartless things.

I stood up from the chair and walked over, my figure fell on his hair, I grabbed his arm almost savagely, John stood up obediently, and fell into my arms, he was like a unconscious person , I have no strength in my feet, and my whole body is dumped on me. I hug him tightly, hug him, press the back of his head with one hand, and tighten his back with the other hand. I hold him firmly with both arms. For a long time, until his tears soaked my suit and shirt.

"She's dead... Sherlock... she's dead... I knew it was going to happen, I knew she had cancer before I married her, I knew it, but I still... I asked for it... just Like you said, this way of life, this hellish fate, I brought it on myself."

I was speechless for a while.

John cried for a while, and then came out of my arms in embarrassment. When he raised his head up, there were no more tears. I think it probably wiped off my clothes. He changed back to the John Watson who solved the enemy for me, I let go of him too, and fumbled through my buttons in front of him.

He's still strong, heroic, resolute, and he throws his head back and gives me a mischievous smile, "Thank you, Sherlock, that's amazing, where did you learn to hug people?"

"From you." I said lightly.