All the superheroes I played are revived [Comprehensive Yingmei]

"..." John's eyes widened unconsciously, and his eyes wandered back and forth between the neon little kelp balls showing off his might above Dan's head and the group of small kelp balls crowded together and chirping non-stop on the ground. The expression on his face became a little softer, obviously thinking that this group of bluffing little things looked cute.

Dan decides not to tell John about the fact that these cuties just made you faint with their tentacles.

He put the hot milk into John's slightly trembling hands on the quilt, after all, John seemed to need this cup of hot milk more than he did.

"Thank you." The temperature of the milk spread to the palm along the glass wall, and John's hand finally stopped shaking so much.

"Can you tell me about it?" Dan obediently sat down on the chair beside the hospital bed, touching half of the chair, sat upright, and opened his eyes wide. "About... the miracle you want?"

John's hand shook again.

This military doctor, who had been to Afghanistan and never backed down from the most treacherous criminal consultant in the world, had already been tortured by the grief that had destroyed his spirit and will like a winter wind in his chest. painfully.When he heard Dan's question, it was like grabbing a life-saving straw—although he knew very well in his heart that even if he told everything about the past, the young man in front of him would not be able to pull him out of the quagmire. rescued.

The dead cannot be brought back to life, not even Professor X.

But he still couldn't help himself to open his mouth, and poured out all the feelings, all the thoughts, all the nightmares in his heart like an inverted bamboo tube to this young man who obviously just came to comfort him—he It's like a desperate traveler under the abyss, when he sees the only rope hanging in front of him, he desperately wants to reach out and hold it tightly, even if it's just a dream.

John closed his eyes tightly, as if he could resist the grief that followed him: "...I know. If I want to come here to find miracles, I have to tell everything. But, sorry, it's too difficult , It’s too difficult for me. I don’t want to recall those things in the past, I want to simply pack up the past and the memories with Sherlock, like an ordinary adult who sends away friends, Get yourself in order, let go of the past, and move on...but I can't."

"I can't do it." John bent down in pain, his forehead pressed against the mouth of the glass, pressing a deep red mark, "I can't let it go! These memories are always crazily in my mind Emergence, I can't control my brain, my emotions, or even my hands. I am like an empty shell dominated by emotions. Every day, the shell is filled with memories of the past, like a shadow of the old days. Wandering in 221B!"

"So... you want to put him down?" Dan tried to reach out and put his hand on John's shoulder, trying to give him some comfort.

"No, I don't want to. If I wanted to, I wouldn't come here—I want to bring him back. If I have any hope, if there is any miracle in this world, I will go. I want Sherlock to come back. Come to me." John jerked his head up, looking at Dan.

There was suffocating grief in John's eyes, which could almost overwhelm people.But hidden under this ocean, there is still a little light, which is continuously and persistently flickering. It is John's firm determination to break through this thick and thick negative sea.

John quickly wiped his face with his hand, then took the bag he was carrying from the hospital bed, and took out a laptop: "I met Sherlock through a friend's introduction. At that time, I just Back in London, looking for a suitable roommate. At that moment, Sherlock showed up."

"I'm a military doctor, a soldier who was on the front lines of the war in Afghanistan. At that time, I was still not free from PTSD in the field, so my counselor gave me a suggestion to keep a diary once a day. I just wrote my experience on the blog and posted it." John clicked on his blog and showed Dan, "From the day I met Sherlock, until he... the day he left One day, I recorded it all."

Dan was a little surprised to find that this blog was no stranger to him.In fact, the owner of the children's theater who took him in and helped him often clicked on this blog during his lunch break, soaked up coffee and read, and killed the noon break.But in the past six months, the owner of the children's theater stopped watching it. When Dan asked, he sighed sadly, saying that the world lost another superhero.

"Uh, this Sherlock you're talking about, is he also a superhero?" Dan tried hard to read John's recorded lines belonging to Sherlock, and was successfully blinded by Sherlock's long analysis.

"No—" John paused, with a bitter smile on his lips, "but he was to me, yes. To a lot of the people he helped, yes. He could have a lot of bad things." The problem is that he can't read people's eyes, can't read the atmosphere, and speaks so sharply that people want to beat him, he is a natural atmosphere destroyer, but...he is very good. "

"He will protect the landlady, vent his anger on the hostage and injured landlady; he will play a song that drives people crazy on the day before Christmas, but he will play a beautiful carol on Christmas Eve; he has a talent that no one can match. Brain, he is smart, sharp, and has excellent mobility, so powerful that no one can compete in his field of work." John said, the smile on the corner of his mouth became real, and the look of memory appeared in his eyes, "You will always You won't know how many times he saved Great Britain, how many lives he saved, because he never liked to brag—not even to be boasted by the goldfish."

"I should be there." The smile on the corner of John's mouth disappeared, and the despair, self-blame, and regret filled his chest, causing him to bend his back overwhelmed, "When he confronted Moriarty Well, I should have been there with him. I know he's a jerk—but not an emotionless bastard, and he said those things on purpose just to get me away, but I—”

"I left him."

John's eyes were silently red: "If I hadn't left, if I had been with him..."

Maybe the ending will be different?

John can't help thinking about this possibility after he wakes up from a dream in the middle of the night.Even if he knew in his heart that he stayed, it wouldn't change anything, and there might even be another corpse on the downstairs—but at least he was with Sherlock before he died, and Sherlock wasn't alone. Man is against the world, not alone to meet all malice, not alone to die.

"I'm downstairs... I'm downstairs! I watched him jump down in front of me!" John yelled, breaking down.

Dan could feel the collision and burning emotion of despair and enthusiasm that John suppressed in his chest, which was exactly the same as when he left Gotham in a panic and shame, but couldn't forget the dark knight who fell in front of him.

Dan couldn't help but think of how self-loathing and regret he had spent in his daily life for the past three years. Even if he knew that even if he didn't sign up for the tour group at that time, other people would sign up, Batman would still protect him. That person died, but he still couldn't forgive himself so easily.

As a boy who grew up in a big city, the most sad setbacks Dan encountered were being excluded by his peers and denied his acting skills by various people. He didn't even go to the hospital once. , the saddest time was when he met the owner of the children's theater and gave him a job in a Superman stage play-so Batman's death was really too much responsibility for Dan to bear.

He died to save himself.Dan couldn't help thinking that. "If only I hadn't been on that tour. If only I had stood in front of Batman."

Just like John now - "If only I was with him" "How could I just stand there and watch him jump off the stairs?"

"Do you want him back?" Dan gently supported John, who was almost convulsed with grief, as if looking at another self, "Do you want Sherlock back?"

Dan was a little nervous. This was the first time he wanted to take the initiative to resurrect someone with his own ability. He didn't know if he could succeed, but he wanted to try for John.

I also really want to give it a try for this "superhero" who has saved countless people with his wisdom, who can be praised as highly by John and the owner of the children's theater at the same time.

He looked timidly at the laboratory where the door diagonally opposite was still tightly closed, and made sure that he would not be seen if he made his own assertion this time, so he whispered to John: "I want to try to see if I can help you, but I don't know." Make sure... I'm not very good at controlling my own power. Do you have Sherlock's video data? That is, the kind that is particularly memorable, and can show his image in one go."

This is his own ability, how to use it and how to develop it, he can't completely leave the responsibility of these brainstorming to others, this is his own business, of course he has to rely on his own efforts!

Thinking of this, Dan shook his head vigorously, then puffed out his chest forcefully.

The little neon-colored kelp ball on top of his head was dizzy from being shaken, and he clutched Dan's hair in panic: "吱吱吱吱@[email protected]"

"I only have one..." John gently clicked the video in the notebook that he watched countless times and Sherlock left him at the end, "No, No, please...don't watch it next to me."

John covered his eyes, the glass of milk in his hand was shaking because of his trembling hands.

Dan quickly picked up his notebook and sat in the corner: "I will wear headphones...give me 10 minutes, no, half an hour!"

He can't call too many spectators, because the only spectators that can be called here are the students of the X Academy and the X-Men. After they discover his ability to try, they will definitely tell Hank and the others. If they are not sure, he can't. tried.In other words, this time his audience was only John.

If there is only one audience, can he resurrect Sherlock?

If the quantity is not good, only the quality can win!

While thinking about it, Dan carefully watched the computer carefully.

From the image of the character, to the posture and manner.The tone of language and the accompanying actions are also an important part of shaping the image. What is the bearing of this person when he speaks?What is the look like?What is the attitude?What about the emotion hidden in the words?What about his subtle expressions?

Dan carefully observes everything about the man in the suit in the video, making sure that he can express the spirit of the other person.

I just don't know why, the more you taste, the more something is wrong with Dan.

But I just can't find anything wrong.Dan scratched his head in doubt, wondering whether his observations were not careful enough, or his understanding had gone wrong, but it shouldn't be possible...?

But he didn't have much time to prepare. Hank and Batman who were having a small meeting next door could come out at any time, so he had to seize every minute and every second without wasting any time.

Half an hour later, Dan put down the notebook with some trepidation in his heart.

"...I...I'm not so sure, that...I'm not sure it's going to work." Dan was a little frustrated.

He still couldn't figure out where his feeling that something was wrong came from, but when things came to an end, he had no choice but to force himself.

He put down his notebook and stood up from the small stool in the corner. The Dan Kerry expression on his face faded in an instant, and was replaced by another special, contemptuous look with a bit of arrogance.

Dan strode out from the corner, his footsteps were strong and firm, as if there was wind behind him, and he stood suddenly in front of John.

John slowly opened his eyes.

Dan turned around quickly on the spot a few times, waving his hands as if expressing his discomfort and resistance to the upcoming self-disclosure, as well as his indifference to cover up his unfamiliarity with this behavior: "So that I—what do you want me to do in the end?"

"Am I going to laugh and wink?... People seem to like me more, to make me human... Never mind."

"Oh, no...no..." John stared blankly at Dan dangling in front of him, as if he saw the arrogant curly bastard who always acted in front of him, saying He wanted to cry and laugh at the words of these beatings.

He felt his heart being torn in two.He wanted to ask Dan to stop.

But a sore throat stopped him.

Dan went on, as if it wasn't a show at all, but that he was the private eye who wanted to say what he really wanted to say to John, and after so many circles and so many detours, he finally sat down. Come down: "Okay, I'm ready."

"...Sorry I'm not here right now, I'm a bit busy, but—happy birthday to you..."

Dan even imitated Sherlock's unique, low-pitched voice very similarly. His expression on the sofa and the tone of each sentence were like the Sherlock Holmes on the screen who put on a new shell. stood in front of John.

"Well, don't worry—"

John softly echoed Dan's voice, and said the last sentence, which seemed to be on his heart every time he heard it: "We will see each other soon."

"No, liar." John said in a daze.

Dan quickly broke away from Sherlock's state, looked around, and asked nervously: "Is there?"

"What...?" John said a little unresponsively.

Dan looked at the empty medical room in disappointment: "...Oh, no."

No three-headed body appeared here.

He blamed himself and said guiltily: "Sorry, I seem to have lost—"

"biu~"

The milk glass in John's hand suddenly became heavy.

A thumb-sized, curly-haired little man in a suit suddenly appeared out of nowhere and fell into John's milk glass with a sound of water dripping into milk.

Sherlock suddenly appeared in a white lake inexplicably: "Wh-where is this?!"

Dan's eyes widened in shock, looking at the little curly hair in the milk glass, about the size of a thumb, struggling to splash the milk flower, scolding something in a super soft voice while being submerged in the milk in horror, throwing the little one His hands were patting on the wall of the glass and he was dying.

Thumb Sherlock: "What the hell--grunt--help-grunt-help-grunt-"

Sherlock Thumb: "Gurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Sherlock Thumb quietly spit out the last bubble at the bottom of the cup: "."

The author has something to say: Sherlock at the Bottom:. 【Death is not in peace】

sad mulberry.

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Seeking favorites and comments every day is hot~~[Rubbing an angry thumb curly cat]

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Thanks to Yun Shichangan and Leng Yue x 2 for mines!Pooh!I also want to thank my boss Jitai, Zi'an countless people, Wu Xixuemiao, and Eggy for the nutrient solution irrigated! Mua!