I can’t. I don’t know how. Mind palace trouble?
OK on rewatch I am wondering if he’s not talking about not knowing how to diffuse the bomb. I’m thinking he doesn’t know how to navigate his mind palace. John forces him to and he yells he can’t and then he truly looks panicked and John looks disgusted. He searches for a switch… says “turn that off” and then he does. Then he says “I’m sorry. I can’t, I can’t do it, John. I don’t know how” I think Sherlock had indeed been damaged and I think maybe he thinks that is all he’s got to offer?
This could be prime not talking about what you think he’s talking about Private Life of SH Gatiss version of “Am I being presumptuous? There have been women in your life haven’t there?” “Yes”
He winces each time he goes there. He avoids it and is defensive in the carriage. I think he was going to confess it and changed his mind by John’s reaction.
I think maybe he does find the switch the old fashioned way (searching) after the panic and laughs it off? Maybe?Clarification: I think this sounds a bit convoluted. What I mean is basically Sherlock’s Mind Palace is damaged. He considers telling John about this problem… and even starts to during the bomb scene. That’s what he’s really taking about here. But backs off because of John’s reaction. Maybe?
SHERLOCK LITERALLY TURNED UP IN A COSTUME AND SAID ‘NOT DEAD!’
WE WERE JOKING MOFFAT
IT WAS A JOKE
I want greatness for Molly Hooper.
youarebeingshaggedbyarareparrot:
I want these two years to have made Molly a woman you wouldn’t want to cross. Not her or any of her people.
These two years will have been tense and long. She’ll see how many people actually do depend on her, how many shelter in the folds of that over bleached and care worn lab coat. She take steps to protect them, from the quiet and still of her stainless steel fortress.
She’ll visit Mrs Hudson for tea and biscuites on quiet afternoons after John moves out. The pair of them will go shopping in Covert Garden and Mrs Hudson will heal a little faster and stronger for having a surroget daughter.
She’ll call in on Sherlock’s homeless network. She doesn’t have his financial resources, still trying to clear student debts as she is but she’ll do what she can. She fix broken bones and bath and dress sores, treat frostbite and chill blains when it gets bitter that second winter he’s gone.
She’ll have to keep her distance from Greg, no matter how hard it kills her. She’d grown to love him, she really had. And she knows one long look into his face will be enough to crack her resolve and have her sobbing and begging for forgiveness. She’d hardly looked away from his broken and betrayed expression at the funeral and remembers tasting blood for most of the grave side services. But she can’t do that, there are too many lives at stake and the bleeding of her own heart will just have to be managed for now.
John, John keeps his distance from her. And she doesn’t blame him. After all, if Sherlock couldn’t see what she was worth until he stood on the knife’s edge, how on earth was John to know. Hell, she didn’t really know herself until Sherlock had gripped her arms, laying his blooded forehead on her thin shoulder and pleaded and thanked her in a broken whisper. And she is just another reminder of the man. But she sees him, going about what she supposed he considered a normal life. Mousy and still, Molly knows now that she can go unnoicted by many if there is something more distracting going on, Jim had over looked her completely and they had share a bed. That thought still makes the bile rise in her. But John was so lonely, and starved of interaction. She as a lonely soul herself can see it, and can see it in others. Mary hasn’t stopped thanking Molly for sort of, kind of introducing them. It was a morning of manoveuring and shadowing around the clinic and the deli half way between it and the school Mary’s currently teaching at. And Molly didn’t really do anything other than observe and calculate John’s lunch breaks where he will walk to the deli, order tea and nothing else and proceed to hardly drink it and then be late and then absent from the arranged lunch meet up with her friend. Mary did all the actual work. But she’s threatening Molly with bridesmaid’s duty should the need ever arise.
Molly’s so happy for them both, the sort of happy that aches even as you smile. The sort of happy that she hopes will allow everyone to heal and come together more, even if the hurried texted messages from unknown numbers tell her the tide will once again come in.
But with the tide coming in, it also brings in things. Dangerous things. Things, that move like spiders and start to prowl certain homesteads of the old city that deserved to be left well alone. She’s seen him, trailing Mary and John, and she’s seen those eyes, that expression, before. Like the man ought to be looking down the length of a gun barrel. Molly knows what she is seeing and she won’t let that happen again.
She’ll take few notes out of The Woman’s book. She’ll play what has been seen in her for years. She will be that ‘weak link’, she let him get closer to the intended target. She bumps into him in the street, all low cut blouse with a peek of negligee and pretty blushing. She’ll be beguilling eyes and soft smiles.
She’ll watch him as he watches John through the sights he’s itching to level at him. She’ll have Mycroft’s number on speed dail, she’ll keep her long knife tapped to the underside of her side of the bed. She’ll watch the tiger hunt in it’s concrete cage. She can wait.
a) I LOVE THE IDEA OF MOLLY BEING THE ONE TO BRING DOWN MORAN YES PLEASE
b) Yes Lestrolly Good
c) MOLLY SETTING JOHN AND MARY UP YES GOOD HIGH FIVES ALL ROUND
d) Molly Fucking Hooper.
