John said he wouldn’t give compliments. Any
compliments or rather not to expect them. I didn’t. But I didn’t expect to get
any insults so suddenly either! Me running around London solving cases with him
makes up for a lot though. I feel somehow connected, part of the chase. He is
talking directly to me. So is John or Mycroft for that matter. I get messages
from Lestrade and Molly. He arranges meetings with sources and I get to do all
kind of cool stuff I’ve never done before. He lets me know that too. He’s disappointed
when I take too long to solve a puzzle. O those damn picture puzzles. I get the
hang of solving the scrambled sound files or cracking the codes of voicemails. Go
to your mind palace he says in a text. And there I deduce or try to, and figure
out the ‘obvious’ who’s done it. How does he do it? My mind palace gets fried. The beautiful, pumping music doesn't help me ease my mind.
But all of that is still not satisfactory enough to
please him. He says: ‘I might have thought you would have found it out by
yourself by now’. I feel like I've let him down. He walks out of the room, his
coat whooshing behind him. I am in awe. I stare at the emptiness he has left behind.
Feeling rather disappointed in myself as well. Ignoring the message on the
right bottom side from Mycroft I sit down, feeling sorry for myself. But there
is no time to waste. Mrs. Hudson needs to be rescued, men have to be
recognised, papers to read, people to pay a visit to, hop on the tube or taxi
or walk and try and try to do better next time.
Trying to please him is ever so hard. But we do it, all of us, for ourselves but also for him:
For Sherlock whom we all love and admire more than anyone in the world. Addiction some call it. I call it Fandom.
Trying to please him is ever so hard. But we do it, all of us, for ourselves but also for him:
For Sherlock whom we all love and admire more than anyone in the world. Addiction some call it. I call it Fandom.
© KH
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