Warm and Cold CP Short Story Collection

Main CP: Sherlock Holmes x John Watson

From: BBC miniseries Sherlock

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Alone is what I have. Alone protects me. - S·H

I have only loneliness for company.Solitude protects me. —— Xia Fu

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- look at me

Sherlock, why can't I hold your outstretched left hand?Why are we so far apart?

- look at me

Sherlock, I'm watching you!No, I should be by your side instead of standing here powerless looking at you so helpless on the rooftop.

- Please, can you do one thing for me

Sherlock, are you crying?Why?Let me do anything, please, don't let the dire speculations I'm most dreading right now come true.

——This phone call is my last words

Will!Sherlock, tell me, you're kidding me, aren't you?tell me!Why did you throw away your phone, why did you suddenly jump off without hesitation?

……

"Sherlock!!"

In the foggy London, early spring, rainy night, at 2:13 in the morning, John Watson woke up from his nightmare screaming.

The cold wind whizzed into the room wrapped in raindrops, and the unclosed wooden window frames slapped the mottled walls with the sound of the wind.This is not his bedroom on the third floor of Room 221 on Baker Street, but the temporary residence he found on the other side of the city away from Baker Street after he left 221B after that incident, rejected his sister Harry's kind invitation.Harry has his own life, and he shouldn't bring his sadness to the only family member left.

Watson's rapid panting gradually subsided, he turned up and half sat on the single bed against a wall, lowered his head and buried his face deeply in his hands.The wetness on the touched cheeks, in addition to the cold sweat from being frightened by the nightmare, more of it came from the tears gushing out because of helplessness.

In the dead of night, he allowed himself to indulge the fragility that others couldn't see.

"Sherlock, Sherlock... Please, come back... I miss you so much, Sherlock, Sherlock..."

Watson whispered reverently and from the bottom of his heart the name of the unforgettable person.

The tall and slender figure in the gray windbreaker appeared in his dreams again and again, and the scene of jumping off the roof was repeated over and over again.Sherlock fell heavily in a dazzling pool of blood, and then disappeared suddenly, never to be found again.He didn't even have time to say 'goodbye'.

——I have only loneliness as a companion, and loneliness can protect me.

Now, you gave me loneliness.But I don't want anything but you.

Sherlock, maybe you're right.How stupid and ridiculous it is for me to tell you that "our friends protect us".A small deception can easily take me away from your side, leaving you alone to face that terrible enemy.

Sherlock, if I admit my mistake, are you willing to give me a miracle and appear in front of me?I admit I was wrong, Sherlock, come back!please - don't die -

Watson took a deep breath, rubbed his cheeks hard, then lifted the quilt covering his body and stepped on the floor with bare feet, and walked to the window to close the rainy wooden window.

Unable to sleep anymore, Watson fixed his eyes on the raindrops hitting the glass window, the chaos in his mind, all kinds of scenes related to Sherlock were intertwined, more vivid than those appearing in dreams clear.

beep--

The mobile phone on the table rang, and the SMS notification sound was very clear in the relatively quiet room late at night.

Sherlock!Although he knew it was impossible in his heart, Watson still turned around with hope and rushed to pick up the phone, staring excitedly at the dimmed square-inch screen.With trembling fingertips, he opened the keypad lock on the screen, and when he saw the person who sent the text message, the expression of surprise and anticipation instantly collapsed.Sitting on the edge of the bed, Watson held the cold black machine in his hand, and looked up at Mr. Ivan on the bedside table in a daze.

How long has it been since you paid for your mobile phone? !I have forgotten it, because there are no more characteristic and unreasonable but helpless SMS bombardments with the label [Xia Fu].

He didn't go to Sherlock's funeral, fearing that he would not be able to control his emotions, after witnessing the other's death with his own eyes.Everyone, everyone took his grief for granted, his avoidance for granted.

He saw a psychiatrist once and never went back.Then he moved away from 221 Baker Street with an indescribable feeling. Except for Mr. Ivan the skull, everything else belonging to Sherlock stayed in that place full of various memories.

John, stop kidding yourself.Sherlock is gone, so you can live well!Together with each other, live seriously!

Watson pursed his lips, then stood up, took his coat and put it on, packed his phone and keys, opened the door and walked out.Since you can't sleep, go out for a walk!

As soon as he got to the sidewalk, the familiar black car parked silently in the driveway beside him. The window on Watson's side slid halfway down. The people in the car watched him quietly, and then the door was opened. a gap.

Watson didn't expect to see this woman again, on a rainy and deserted street in the middle of the night.After hesitating for a while, Watson opened the door and sat in the vacated position in the back seat.The body that was wet by the rain and fog touched the heater in the car, and couldn't help shivering.

Unexpectedly, the person I saw after being sent to the destination by the car this time was not the intelligence leader of the National Military Aircraft Division [-] and the brother of Sherlock Holmes—Mycroft Holmes, but——Lestrade Inspector.Speaking of which, since Sherlock's death, he has never had any interaction with this Scotland Yard detective.

When he came to Inspector Lestrade's residence for the first time, Watson was not in the mood to look and explore.His attention was entirely on the blue transparent evidence bag placed on the glass table in front of him. Inside was a black mobile phone he was all too familiar with, which belonged to Sherlock Holmes, the best and only detective consultant in the world.

"This...we don't need it anymore!" Inspector Lestrade's voice was as tired as his expression, "Sherlock's mobile phone, I think, it's best to leave it to you." He looked at Watson He glanced at it, and then pushed the bag on the table towards Watson, "Mycroft also agrees with me!"

The light in the room was very warm, which drove away most of the chill on Watson's body.Watson licked his lower lip habitually, then reached into the bag and took out his phone.The black screen reflected the dim light, and the rear case of the dropped phone inevitably had tiny cracks.

"Thank you!"

Opening his mouth in a low voice, Watson lowered his head to start the machine, and the faint notification sound indicated that the battery of the phone was running low.

Watson looked through the phone's call history, text message inbox, text message outbox, maybe except for the last call, he could know everything about Sherlock before, but there was nothing left, blank without any trace, not even the text he sent. No reply to Sherlock.Unexpectedly, Watson clicked on the draft box of the phone, and then stared blankly at the screen flickering with a faint blue light, where an unsent text message lay there alone, the only one.

"Goodbye, my Watson.Xia Fu

It was too sudden, every word was deeply engraved into the pupils.Tears just fell down uncontrollably.Quietly and depressingly, Hua Sheng bit his lip and swallowed all the choking sounds.

Lestrade poured a cup of hot cocoa for Watson, and reached out and pressed his shoulders hard to express the comfort and concern he could give.

John Watson, you are a soldier, even if you retire, you won't become so... weak at every turn! "Thank you!" The soldier's experience allowed Watson to quickly control his emotions and adjust his out-of-control state. He waited until all the sadness was slowly rubbed into the depths of his soul before he spoke again in a hoarse voice.

"When we arrived on the rooftop of the laboratory building of Barts Medical College, we didn't find Moriarty. Except for a pool of blood and this cell phone thrown not far away, we didn't find any more." Return to Opposite Watson, Lestrade said calmly, "This is what he left for you!" He had seen the contents of the phone.

It took him a long time to get used to Sherlock's sudden departure. All kinds of speculation in the media and newspapers about that incident plunged him into chaos and busyness. When the incident finally subsided, it was already one month away from Sherlock's funeral. many months.No matter what the newspapers said Sherlock was a fake genius or a liar, he would not believe it.For Sherlock Holmes, a genius who has passed away, he can only feel infinite regret and sadness.

When Watson heard Lestrade's words, he raised his head and unconsciously stroked the edge of the black phone with his thumbs, "I didn't find Moriarty? Whose bloodstain on the roof belongs to?"

"After testing, it's not Sherlock Holmes's. But the owner of the bloodstains has not been found, whether it is alive or..." Lestrade stopped the topic, and mentioned the word 'death' in front of Watson...

He remembered that when he saw Watson in the laboratory downstairs of the Barts Medical College, the other party seemed hysterically unresponsive.After a long period of time, when everyone thought that Watson was gradually recovering, the other party suddenly ran madly through the crowd and ran into the laboratory building.Finally, after everyone's efforts, they found Dr. Watson, who was curled up and bleeding from biting his lips, in the corner of the laboratory where Sherlock Holmes often stayed.

It was the first and only time he had seen such a vulnerable John Watson.

"It's okay, please continue." Xiang Lestrade shook his head, motioning for the inspector to continue.He was grateful for the other party's delicate concerns.

"Doctor Watson, do you know why Sherlock Holmes chose this way?! It's because of us, he exchanged his life for our safety, me, you, and Mrs. Hudson." Watson said The expression on his face was exactly the same as his expression when he heard Mycroft talk about these reasons today.

Lestrade will never forget the scene of meeting Sherlock Holmes for the first time, and his brilliant reasoning and sharp skills in dealing with prisoners are impressive.In the following years, many times he relied on Sherlock's wisdom to solve many cases that were complicated for the police but extremely boring for the other party.More and more colleagues don't like Sherlock Holmes, from the initial indifference to the final face-to-face sarcasm.Fortunately, Sherlock Holmes does not care about the mistakes of these mediocre people.

This situation did not change until the John Watson in front of him appeared.Sherlock Holmes, the freak in Donovan's mouth, is acting more and more like a human being. He has the emotions that are indispensable to human beings, and his emotions will not be shown only for the case.

Mycroft once said to him: I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing!And now...a genius exchanged his own sacrifice for the lives of three ordinary people.

"Doctor Watson, if you don't mind, you can rest here!" Lestrade stood up and asked softly.Even if he wasn't a doctor, he could tell that what Watson desperately needed was a good night's sleep.

The rain that had been raining all night finally came to an end before dawn, and the first ray of sunlight pierced through the thin fog and gradually brightened the London sky.

Shaking his head and rejecting the detective's persuasion, Watson waved his hand to stop a passing taxi after saying goodbye to Lestrade who was standing at the door, and then got in.His hand in his pocket gripped Sherlock's phone tightly.

"Good morning, sir! Where are you going?" the taxi driver politely asked for the address.

When sitting in the back seat of the taxi, Watson was a little dazed. Sherlock and Sherlock used to sit like this and ran around the city for the case. Along the way, the other party always answered questions he didn't understand, speaking very fast, sometimes Will laugh at him, with Holmes' unique sense of humor.

"Sir? Where are you going?" the taxi driver asked again.

When he came back to his senses, Watson realized that the address he mentioned just now was not where he lived now, but 221 Baker Street forever.

Familiar street, familiar house number, familiar landlady.

"Oh, my God, Watson!" Mrs. Hudson opened the door, and when she saw the man standing in front of her, she gave him a big hug with surprise on her face. "Great, you're finally back! Great, great! Charlotte...no, nothing!" Seemingly thinking of something, Hudson hurriedly pulled Watson into the entrance, "Watson, since you're back, why don't you come back?" Go up! It's so cold in the morning, I'm going to prepare hot drinks and a filling breakfast for you! You must wait up there!" Mrs. Hudson seriously urged, and then went to the kitchen inside.

"Mrs. Hudson, thank you!" Thanking the lovely landlady who was busy making arrangements, Watson stroked the wall opposite the banister of the stairs, raised his head and moved his gaze upwards, and then stepped on the steps.

Watson stretched out his hand and slowly pushed open the half-closed wooden door of the living room, his heart suddenly beating violently.In that sofa behind the door... would Sherlock sit there?Is he meditating with his hands folded and his eyes closed, or is he stroking his violin?

The wooden door was completely pushed open, just like before leaving, the papers were thrown on the table in a mess, the violin was erected on the table against a stack of books, and the strings were discarded on another chair.The laptop he didn't take away was quietly pressed on a stack of papers. Since Sherlock's death, he hasn't updated his blog anymore, and even deliberately left it in this place full of memories.

Watson stood by the door of the living room, looking around at everything in the room, the two emotions of disappointment and despair came to mind at the same time, devouring the delusion of anticipation.Nothing here has changed, except that there is nothing he most wants to see.

His mobile phone, which was in the other pocket, suddenly vibrated, bringing Watson back to his senses.

"Welcome back, my Watson.Xia Fu

Unfamiliar number, familiar name.

Sherlock, Sherlock...

Staring at the information on the screen, Watson opened his mouth and tried to make a sound, but his throat seemed to be blocked by something and he couldn't make a sound.After taking a few deep breaths, finally "Sherlock, Sherlock, Xia..."

"Here I am, Watson." A low and familiar voice with a smile came from the stairs behind him.

Watson held the mobile phone in one hand, and held the handle of the wooden door firmly with the other, not daring to turn around.He was afraid that all this was his hallucination, or just a rare dream. Once he woke up, all the happiness would disappear.

"I'm here. I'm back. My Watson." The familiar voice was close at hand, and then Watson saw a hand with distinct knuckles and warmth covering his hand holding the handle, with gentle movements, With a conciliatory meaning.

Watson turned slowly, and finally saw the miracle he had been waiting for appear before him.

Without hesitation, he hugged him fiercely, exhausted all his strength, and feared that he would lose again.Being able to see this Sherlock is already the greatest gift from God, and now he doesn't care whether he will be gossiped by others.

Sherlock Holmes responded to the hug without any hesitation.

For the first time, Sherlock felt that there is nothing wrong with being an ordinary person once in a while, at least these emotions made him experience different and strange feelings, and he didn't hate it at all.When he heard Watson express his feelings and beg him not to die in front of his grave, he also felt heartbroken.I don't want to see Watson sad again, once is enough!

Mrs. Hudson was carrying the tray. When she passed the turntable leading to the second floor, our lovely landlady raised a smile of relief when she saw the two people upstairs standing face to face. With a smile, he quietly went downstairs, not to disturb the two who finally met again.

Without unnecessary actions or words, the great detective Sherlock Holmes and John Watson just stood in front of the living room door on the second floor of 221B and embraced each other like this.The embrace of two people seemed as long as a century.

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