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*falls to floor*
*rolls out door*
*blasts off to moon*
Forget the phone call, forget the fall, forget John alone at Baker Street.
This is what broke me.
This change in demeanour, the nod of “get yourself into check, soldier on” and the military turn, is John: destroyed.
This is whitewashed John, boring John, bored John…John Before Sherlock.
Except now it’s John After Sherlock, and he knows exactly what (who) he is missing.
WHAAAAA FUCKIN FUCK