Sherlock 2.03
Jan. 16th, 2012 07:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sirona_ficsThat. Well, that just about destroyed me, as predicted. There was sobbing. It just quietly, without much aplomb, tore my heart out. And the blame for that goes straight to Martin bloody Freeman's door. BC was beyond brilliant in it, but it was Martin Freeman, as always, who broke me to pieces. God, John. It was less Sherlock's death (because I knew he wouldn't really be dead, knew it), more John's reaction to it. And I'll be fucked if he doesn't win another BAFTA for it.
D'you know what got me the most? The one detail that actually started the sobbing? It was John's bare feet. He sits there, in their flat, all dressed but no socks, that one detail that he can't quite hold together, everything else is fine, a perfect picture of a man in control of himself, but his bare feet, that would be freezing by then, his bare feet were what got me sobbing into my tissue. God, Sherlock. You can't fault him for taking that jump. You can't even fault him for staying dead until Moriarty's network is disbanded, because he does it for them. For Mrs Hudson and Lestrade and, most of all, John. But, god, John. Begging him to stop it. He is not going to forgive Sherlock this for a long, long time. I'll be damned if the nightmares and the PTSD don't come back after this, and every second he spends in their flat is one more without Sherlock, one more that he saw Sherlock fall and stood there and did nothing. Fuck me, sure, it's better to be alive and traumatised than dead and gone, but god, John.
I'm not suggesting that this won't be hell on Sherlock, because it will. It'll be months, maybe years, as he goes on, as he looks over his shoulder for John and John isn't there. Because John is the only thing that matters in the end. Oh, he cares about Mrs Hudson and Lestrade, but really, he jumps for John, not them. That look he sends at the door, after John's 'Friends protect each other', GOD, BC, YOU FUCKING MARVELLOUS MAN. Starseyes everywhere.
So many little details. His shirt's buttons straining at the start, he's put on a few pounds, he's happy, he's accomplished, people are starting to see him as something good, not just a freak. John's frequent asides as to what's okay or a bit not good, he's so used to having that role in Sherlock's life now -- he's settled, fuck it all.
Can I just say, Andrew bloody Scott. You. This was a career performance from him, IMO. They all played career performances in this. If Andrew Scott was not so fucking brilliant as Moriarty, if Martin Freeman was not the quintessential John, then the show would not have held together like it did, or had quite that effect. Separately they are excellent; together... well, there are no words really.
Can I also just say, MOLLY. Molly. Oh, Molly. She is just such a good person. She could have turned into Moran, like a lot of people suggested. She could have. She had the potential, she's smart, she's pretty amazing. But she's... She's like Sherlock. They are so alike. She chose a side, and she stuck to it, no matter what. She stuck to it. It didn't turn her bitter, no matter what a cock Sherlock was to her (and he was. Oh, was he ever). She accepted him. You could see it by the end, 'I know you don't'. She accepted what he was. She was the only other person out there, other than John, who saw him. Saw him and accepted him. I don't know what people are going to say about Sherlock manipulating her, or playing her, or using her; I'm not going to get into that discussion. I don't want to. I saw a human being being a human being. Fucking hell, Molly Hooper, I wish I could be as wise as you one day, you beautiful, amazing person. Molly fucking Hooper, I cannot even. I'm tearing up as I type this, she is just incredible. The talent on this show is out of this world, really.
I haven't read other people's reactions yet. I wanted to get this out while it was fresh in my mind. This might just be one of the best pieces of television I have ever seen. I'm sure it's going to steal all the awards out there. It deserves to. This show, oh, this show, what it does to me.
I will eventually get a Molly icon. I will. In the meantime, this one is just all that much more poignant now. IS IT SEASON THREE TIME ALREADY. Ugh, the amount of fic I want to write about it, it does not bear thinking about.
ETA: Oh, just, you know what? Go read this. All my John feels in a neat 900 words. Stars in my eyeballs all over again.
OH AND ALSO (thank you,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
politt):
D'you know what got me the most? The one detail that actually started the sobbing? It was John's bare feet. He sits there, in their flat, all dressed but no socks, that one detail that he can't quite hold together, everything else is fine, a perfect picture of a man in control of himself, but his bare feet, that would be freezing by then, his bare feet were what got me sobbing into my tissue. God, Sherlock. You can't fault him for taking that jump. You can't even fault him for staying dead until Moriarty's network is disbanded, because he does it for them. For Mrs Hudson and Lestrade and, most of all, John. But, god, John. Begging him to stop it. He is not going to forgive Sherlock this for a long, long time. I'll be damned if the nightmares and the PTSD don't come back after this, and every second he spends in their flat is one more without Sherlock, one more that he saw Sherlock fall and stood there and did nothing. Fuck me, sure, it's better to be alive and traumatised than dead and gone, but god, John.
I'm not suggesting that this won't be hell on Sherlock, because it will. It'll be months, maybe years, as he goes on, as he looks over his shoulder for John and John isn't there. Because John is the only thing that matters in the end. Oh, he cares about Mrs Hudson and Lestrade, but really, he jumps for John, not them. That look he sends at the door, after John's 'Friends protect each other', GOD, BC, YOU FUCKING MARVELLOUS MAN. Starseyes everywhere.
So many little details. His shirt's buttons straining at the start, he's put on a few pounds, he's happy, he's accomplished, people are starting to see him as something good, not just a freak. John's frequent asides as to what's okay or a bit not good, he's so used to having that role in Sherlock's life now -- he's settled, fuck it all.
Can I just say, Andrew bloody Scott. You. This was a career performance from him, IMO. They all played career performances in this. If Andrew Scott was not so fucking brilliant as Moriarty, if Martin Freeman was not the quintessential John, then the show would not have held together like it did, or had quite that effect. Separately they are excellent; together... well, there are no words really.
Can I also just say, MOLLY. Molly. Oh, Molly. She is just such a good person. She could have turned into Moran, like a lot of people suggested. She could have. She had the potential, she's smart, she's pretty amazing. But she's... She's like Sherlock. They are so alike. She chose a side, and she stuck to it, no matter what. She stuck to it. It didn't turn her bitter, no matter what a cock Sherlock was to her (and he was. Oh, was he ever). She accepted him. You could see it by the end, 'I know you don't'. She accepted what he was. She was the only other person out there, other than John, who saw him. Saw him and accepted him. I don't know what people are going to say about Sherlock manipulating her, or playing her, or using her; I'm not going to get into that discussion. I don't want to. I saw a human being being a human being. Fucking hell, Molly Hooper, I wish I could be as wise as you one day, you beautiful, amazing person. Molly fucking Hooper, I cannot even. I'm tearing up as I type this, she is just incredible. The talent on this show is out of this world, really.
I haven't read other people's reactions yet. I wanted to get this out while it was fresh in my mind. This might just be one of the best pieces of television I have ever seen. I'm sure it's going to steal all the awards out there. It deserves to. This show, oh, this show, what it does to me.
I will eventually get a Molly icon. I will. In the meantime, this one is just all that much more poignant now. IS IT SEASON THREE TIME ALREADY. Ugh, the amount of fic I want to write about it, it does not bear thinking about.
ETA: Oh, just, you know what? Go read this. All my John feels in a neat 900 words. Stars in my eyeballs all over again.
OH AND ALSO (thank you,
politt): 
