This story is about the friendship between two men, which happened in London. There was a man called Sherlock who lived in London. He was the only consulti ng detective in the world. He had frighteningly meticulous eye for detail that he could always look at you and tell you your whole life story. He could hardly consider others’ feelings, so he frequently drive people crazy with his rude tone. Many people thought he was a freak. He’s so resourceful, dynamic and enigmatic that he frequently felt bored. He didn’t get on well with his brother, Mycroft, which is the British Government when he wasn’t too busy being the British Secret Service or the CIA on a freelance basis. Sherlock was so alone but he didn’t seem to care about that.
This story is about the friendship between two men, which happened in London. There was a man called Sherlock who lived in London. He was the only consulting detective in the world. He had frighteningly meticulous eye for detail that he could always look at you and tell you your whole life story. He could hardly consider others’ feelings, so he frequently drive people crazy with his rude tone. Many people thought he was a freak. He’s so resourceful, dynamic and enigmatic that he frequently felt bored. He didn’t get on well with his brother, Mycroft, which is the British Government when he wasn’t too busy being the British Secret Service or the CIA on a freelance basis. Sherlock was so alone but he didn’t seem to care about that.
There was a man called John, an Army doctor with a psychosomatic limp, which have been invalided home from Afghanistan. He’s not just a marksman but a fighter with so strong moral principle and nerves of steel. His therapist thought he was haunted by memories of his military service that he suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. In fact, he missed the war. However, he was also warm, patient and personable. He’s willing to put up with a great deal from those he cared about and he was intractably loyal. To be honest, pretty much everyone loved him. John just returned to London and he met his old friend, Stamford. Known that John was looking for a place to live, he took John to find the first person who said that. And then, they met. John was shocked by Sherlock’s deduction about his family. Sherlock and John were in 221B Baker Street flat-share. They solved crimes together, walked along the crowded street and watched the stars in the sky. They fought against a gang of international smugglers called the Black Lotus. As the time passed by, they’ve changed a lot. Sherlock has become more human. He gradually learned to consider others’ feelings, though most of the time he was still so aggressive that made other people feel embarrassed. But anyway, it’s better than before. John’s psychosomatic limp got recovered without his therapist’s help. Because when he walked with Sherlock, he saw the battlefield. He has seen it already. But one day, their peaceful life was broken.
算了,我不管了,发英语的就是痛苦TAT The day came soon, one day, the children of the ambassador were kidnapped. Sherlock solved the case, but when the rescued girl saw him, she screamed just like that Sherlock was the kidnapper. This was part of Moriarty’s scheme that he wanted to destroy Sherlock inch by inch. Many people were confused by the scream. Moriarty planted that doubt in people’s head, then the poLIce came. First the scream, then a photograph of being taken in for questioning, Moriarty was burning Sherlock slowly. There was news that Sherlock was a fraud, and it spread quickly. Everybody wanted to believe it. A lie was preferable to the truth. Sherlock and John escaped and found the news resource, a newswoman, the one that Sherlock has landed a dig at her. They met a man called Richard Brook which meant Reichenbach in German. Moriarty aliased Richard Brook, and pretended to be an actor that hired by Sherlock to prove that Moriarty was invented by the detective. Mycroft tried to find the computer code, so he blabbed about Sherlock’s entire life to Moriarty. That’s why Moriarty could sell a big lie. He wrapped it up in the truth, then people took it at face value. Eventually, Sherlock and Moriarty met at the top of a tall building. Both of them wanted to solve the final problem. Moriarty said that there was no computer code and he has broken into those three places with the help of the willing participants. This was the truth.Sherlock always wanted everything to be clever and that was his weakness. Moriarty wanted Sherlock to kill himself. He told Sherlock that his friends would die if he didn’t jump. There was no stopping gunmen unless his people saw Sherlock jump. Sherlock drew a conclusion quickly that as long as Moriarty’s alive, then he could save his friends. Because Moriarty could stop his people. Sherlock said, “I am you.” “You want me to shake hands with you in hell? I shall not disappoint you.” But Moriarty didn’t believe his words, thought that he talked big. “I may be on the side of the angels, but don’t think for one second that I am one of them.” said Sherlock. Moriarty laughed, “No, you’re not, I see. You’re not ordinary. No. You’re me. You’re me. Thank you... Sherlock. Thank you. Bless you. As long as I’m alive, you can save your friends, you’ve got a way out. Well, good luck with that.” Then he pulled the trigger and died. It happened in a second. It was too soon to stop that. Sherlock was confused then he made a decision; meanwhile, John arrived there. Sherlock saw him and phoned, “John.” “Hey, Sherlock, are you OK?” asked John. “Turn round and walk back the way you came. I’m coming in. Just do as I ask! Please.” “Where?” asked John. “Stop there. OK, look up. I’m on the rooftop.” “God.” said John. “I...I can’t come down, so we’ll just have to do it like this.” “What’s going on?” John was confused, having a bad feeling. “An apology.It’s all true.” “What?” asked John. “Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty.” “Why are you saying this?” asked John. “I’m a fake. The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade, I want you to tell Mrs Hudson and Molly. In fact, tell anyone who will listen to you... that I created Moriarty for my own purposes.” “OK, shut up Sherlock. Shut up.” John’s voice was trembling and his bad feeling was getting stronger and stronger. “The first time we met... the first time we met, you know all about my sister, right?” “Nobody could be that clever.” “You could.” said John, in a determined voice. “I researched you. Before we met, I discovered everything that I could impress you. It’s a trick. Just a magic trick.” “No. All right, stop it now.” shouted John.
Sherlock and Moriarty, they were so similar, just like seeing another self from the mirror. Both of them prepared to do anything. Prepared to burn. Prepared to do what ordinary people won’t do. They were so similar, just one be on the side of angels while another be on the side of devils. Or maybe Moriarty stands for the dark side of Sherlock. “I am you.” and “You’re me.” Sounds like that they were made for each other. They were enemies or friends in some sense. Both of them felt bored. Quiet, calm, peaceful, isn’t it hateful? Hardly can people understand them. They usually called those who like them freak or maniac. And the big mad world didn’t give them a way out. “Staying alive! It’s so boring, isn’t it? It’s just staying. All my life I’ve been searching for distractions.” Moriarty used to say that. They were so alone, but fortunately, Sherlock has John. Then what did Moriarty has? Nothing but his intelligence. All he has seen was the boring world so he has become the consulting criminal. Sherlock and John, it seemed that they were not the same kind. However, they have become bosom friends. Most people blunder round the city and all they see are shops and cars. But they were different from those people, all they have seen was the battlefield. Sherlock was a lucky man, because he met John. John could be the making of Sherlock... or make him worse than ever. Then he learned more things. He has become more human that he wasn’t just like a sophisticated case-solving machine any more. Sherlock used to say that alone was what he has and it protects him. But John retorted him, “No, friends protect people.” Standing the top of the building, Sherlock, the one could risk his life to prove he was clever, told John that he was a fake and all his deduction of John’s family was the result of research in the last few minutes. Maybe he understood John’s words. Friends do protect people, and Sherlock could protect John, by killing himself. Caring is not an advantage. Love is a dangerous disadvantage. And every person has his pressure point. Someone that they want to protect from harm. “I don’t have friends. I’ve just got one.” Sherlock used to say that. John found his therapist again. In the end, standing in front of the tomb, John said, “You... you told me once... that you weren’t a hero. There were times I didn’t even think you were human, but let me tell you this, you were... the best man... the most human... human being that I’ve ever known and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, so... there. I was so alone...and I owe you so much. But, please, there’s just one more thing, one more thing, one more miracle, Sherlock, for me, don’t be... dead. Would you do that just for me? Just stop it, stop this.” It was a friendship. That became a secret. There are places we can’t return. There are lies we have to tell. There are truths we can’t deny.