ivyblossom:

cumberbreeches:

 #childish sherlock is the most hilarious thing. #get angry: curl up on the couch in a rage. #get lazy: walk over the table instead of around it. #all while neglecting to pull up one side of your robe that has fallen off of your shoulder. #not complaining btw.

I love this as a typical 221b spat. It’s beautifully dysfunctional and is a nice demonstration of the essential characteristics of both Sherlock and John, even in such a tiny moment.

Sherlock tends toward melancholia, and this is what happens when he does. He doesn’t bother to get dressed or get off the couch, and he gets abusive with people he cares about for no good reason. I doubt he actually means to lash out at John, really. I doubt he’s even actively angry at John. His state of mind makes him frustrated and tetchy with a shortened fuse. He doesn’t have much ability to manage his feelings at the best of times, let alone when he’s already feeling down. He just reacts, and woe betide anyone who’s close by. His directionless anger and frustration pour out of him at the slightest provocation. What’s normally friendly and well-meaning banter between Sherlock and John easily shifts into something more pointed and hurtful when he’s in a blue funk like this. He may not be able to tell the difference in the moment. This time he’s taken it too far without even noticing.

John, on the other hand, isn’t really prone to outbursts. He doesn’t return Sherlock’s abuse at all. It’s not banter, so he doesn’t engage with it. Sherlock’s crossed a line here. John doesn’t argue back, he doesn’t tell Sherlock to stuff it. He’s obviously upset. He’s angry. What Sherlock’s saying has hurt him. But he doesn’t say anything at all in response to it. He just gets up and leaves. Enough, his face seems to say. I’ve had enough of that

This is early days, of course. This is series 1, and John isn’t entirely settled into his role in Sherlock’s life and work. He still seems to have some anxiety about it. He’s starting to see his role as being the one who writes up the cases and brings them to the world, so Sherlock appearing to tell him to stop doing it probably puts him in an uncomfortable spot. It’s one of the few things that makes John feel like he’s actually useful and contributing to the cause rather than just a hanger-on. He wants to feel needed, doesn’t he. He needs to feel like he belongs somewhere, and has something practical to do. So Sherlock’s words hit a bit too close to the bone. 

Would he walk out if they had this exact same interaction in series 2? I doubt it. He’s far more comfortable in his role by then, and Sherlock’s petty lashing out wouldn’t wouldn’t affect him the same way. He’s more rooted and certain of himself in relation to Sherlock by series 2. But now, at this point in their relationship, it’s too much for him. And John doesn’t say so: he doesn’t say anything. He just gets up and leaves. He needs some air, apparently. Air that Sherlock isn’t sharing. He doesn’t want to argue. He doesn’t want to reveal anything. But of course he’s revealed everything. He’s hurt; Sherlock hurt him.

And Sherlock doesn’t know it until that moment. He doesn’t want to get dressed, he doesn’t want to get off the couch, but he does want to stand at the window and watch John leave. Why? Is it just to know where he’s going? He probably already knows where John is going, before he even closes the door behind him. Is it the beginnings of an apology? He didn’t mean to drive John away. Does he immediately go to the window in the hopes that John will turn and look up at him, and he can be there, looking back at him? Being there is enough of a message, I would think. I didn’t mean that. Come back. That’s regret there, I’m sure of it. Because he very deliberately takes those words back later on. Of course I need you, John. Keep writing. Keep writing about me.

Sherlock is brusque and rude at the best of times and tends to lash out angrily about nothing when depressed, but has the capacity to regret it; John keeps most of what he thinks and feels to himself, no matter what. John’s face, his hands, and his body say far more about his state of mind than he ever does. Those characteristics are consistent from the very first scenes to the very last ones. 

It’s nice when even the tiniest scenes demonstrate the care that’s gone into a story and depth of understanding the writers have for their characters. That kind of consistency is what happens when you really know your characters well and construct stories not for them, but with them.

I love this analysis.  And I love how it points out that Sherlock is the expressive one.  There are things he may not talk about, but he never holds back on showing the world how he feels about anything and anyone.  John is the quiet one, the repressed one, the one who puts up a mask for the world.

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