Dr. Warren is a little busy

There is a five-hour time difference between London and New York, so Ashe, who stepped into the time-space gate after dinner, found herself in the wee hours of the morning when she got home.Finding herself jet-lagged again pains Ashe.

After only leaving for a week, the house is still the same, and nothing has changed.For several years after Ash returned to London, she lived alone at 356 Hill Street.This is the property under the name of Professor Xavier, and Ashe borrowed here to save a lot of rent for herself.Her parents had left an inheritance for her, but for some reason they couldn't be inherited by her.She was too young and on the verge of collapse, so she didn't take this into consideration.Later, she didn't want to recall too much about her happy life, it would only make her depressed or even out of control.

This small house in the downtown area is not only her home, but also her working place.The first floor is the living room, kitchen and bathroom. On the second floor, there are three rooms, one as his own bedroom, one as a study and work room, and one as a guest room that is almost useless.The size of the house is small, and it has nothing to do with luxury. It is even a bit old, but it is enough for one person to live in, and it even occasionally makes Ashe feel too empty.

Ashe doesn't want to sleep, in fact she has been sleeping almost the past two days, but she doesn't know what to do.The disadvantage of living alone is that it is easy to suddenly feel lonely when there is nothing to do.She turned on the computer and checked the work emails accumulated for a week. There was a lot of work accumulated in the past few days, and she had to finish these appointments as soon as possible.Although the generous Mr. Stark paid her a large amount of outpatient fees, she doesn't have to worry about making a living in a short time, but she is single, and she has to plan for her own future. She can't always borrow the professor's house.You must know that housing prices in London are not at all close to the people.

Ashe answered work emails, did some housework, and took a comfortable bath to wash away her tiredness.She only lay on the bed for a while before getting up, planning to go for a walk at sunrise, and then go to the supermarket to replenish the empty refrigerator.

The temperature in London at the end of winter was still very low. Ashe wrapped her coat and scarf tightly, and stepped into the cold morning air.The atmosphere of London is quite different from that of New York. For a long time, it was called the city of fog, and the air is famous for its cold and damp air.The bricks and tiles in the streets and alleys of London seem to carry a strong historical atmosphere, like a gentleman who is elegant and decent from head to toe.But when you're in trouble, he often just looks on gracefully.

For example, now, Ashe shrugged her shoulders and wrapped her coat tightly, and was walking slowly alone in the sparsely populated street, but she was accidentally bumped and fell, but the perpetrator ignored her, even Not even an apology.

She got up from the ground, regretting that she was stunned while walking, and turned to see who was so rude, only to find that the person also fell to the ground and hadn't gotten up yet.

Ashe patted the dust off her body, a little hesitant about whether she should help this tall-looking man.But the other party fell to the ground and did not move for a long time. Her kindness defeated the hesitation and gained the upper hand.

She stood not far behind the man, bent slightly to check if the man was still awake.He was lying on his side on the ground, only half of his face was exposed, but Ashe felt that this person looked familiar just based on that half of his face.

"Sir, are you all right? Can you hear me?"

In the early morning at the end of winter, the sun has not fully risen, and there are few people on the street.In another hour or so, the road will be full of traffic and people, but it is far from the morning rush hour.Aixi then asked the question several times, the man finally moved, and Aixi took advantage of the opportunity to see the familiar face clearly.

It is Mr. Sherlock Holmes, a consulting detective who once became famous and became popular in London. After disappearing for two years, he returned to London.

From his curly and messy black hair, Ashe could tell that this man was definitely not Mage Strange.And Mr. Mage must still be in New York.

"Mr. Holmes?" Ashe was very surprised. She only heard the story of his resurrection a few days ago, and she did not expect to see him now. "Do you need help? I can call the police for you, or contact someone .”

Sherlock Holmes struggled to get up from the ground, but he was still a little unsteady.Ashe caught his arm in case he fell to the ground again.She didn't know why the detective bumped into herself early in the morning and fell to the ground, but she could see that his condition was very bad, and his face looked so bad that he hadn't slept for days and nights.

"no need."

The detective resolutely rejected Ashe's offer, and staggered forward alone.Ashe looked at his not-so-straight walking route and the traffic on the road less than one meter away from him, sighed helplessly and followed.

"I can help you contact Mr. John Watson. I happen to know him and have his contact information. Or do you want someone else to pick you up? You cannot act alone in this state."

"I said no! Leave me alone, lady, is that okay?"

The detective's words were not polite at all, and Ashe could clearly feel his resistance.She speculates that the detective has serious psychological problems, and may even be a problem of the mental system. Depression or bipolar disorder are both possible.She usually recommends such patients to go to the psychiatric department of the hospital. This is not a problem she can solve.

Ashe decisively took out her mobile phone, called John, and told him that she had met Mr. Holmes who almost fainted.John immediately said that he would be there immediately, and he was on Baker Street not far away.

Ashe followed the detective and watched him in case he suddenly fell to the ground or fell into the traffic on the road.The detective's footsteps were flimsy and he walked very slowly. The two of them didn't go far, one after the other, when John, who was running wildly, arrived.

"Thank you, Dr. Warren." John supported Sherlock, who was staggering, and thanked Ashe out of breath.

"Let me help you. Or should I hail a cab for you?"

"No, there are very few taxis at this time. We are not far away."

John, who was a full head shorter than Sherlock, looked struggling, and Ashe offered to help.

Two people supported the detective from left to right and arrived at 221B Baker Street very hard.The landlady who came to answer the door was startled by Sherlock's appearance, and also surprised that Dr. Warren, who had helped him a lot, would appear in front of his house.She followed behind them worriedly, watching Ashe and John help Sherlock, who was standing unsteadily, up the stairs together, and then kindly served black tea for Ashe and John.

After placing Sherlock, John sat panting in the armchair, and Ashe sat across from him.

"He doesn't smell of alcohol, so he's not drunk. But his mental state looks worse than that of a person who has been drinking for years. I think it's best for him to go to the hospital for a physical examination as soon as possible."

John nodded and said helplessly, "I understand that Sherlock has never been normal. But he refuses to go to the hospital. The only place he is interested in the hospital may be the morgue. Actually, you don't have to worry, Dr. Warren. I think There must be a reason for him to be the way he is, maybe he found another case that required getting into a drug ring."

Ashe and the detective were neither close nor close, so she didn't want to force him to pay attention to his health.She felt that it was not surprising that a genius like Sherlock Holmes was different from ordinary people. People with superior intelligence were often abnormal, let alone a person like him who actively claimed to be a high-functioning sociopath.

"Then, I'll take my leave first. Oh, by the way, I think I have to congratulate you on your happy wedding in advance."

John showed a surprised smile. He was still worrying about Sherlock who was obviously very wrong, but he didn't expect Ashe to suddenly mention this.

"Thank you, Dr. Warren. Well, I'd like to invite you to my wedding on the first Saturday of next month."

Ashe was a little surprised, she had never developed such a friendly relationship with a patient before.According to the usual standards, as a competent psychiatrist, she should not develop any relationship with patients beyond consultation, not even friends.

But this time she didn't want to refuse the invitation.After all John was done with his treatment and his detective was back, Ashe didn't think he'd need to turn to her anymore.

Above all else, what a fascinating scene a wedding is.The door of happiness is opened, two people who love each other swear to spend a lifetime together, and all the people present sincerely give their blessings.She has seen a lot of pain and despair, and it is difficult to refuse such a pure and happy scene.

"If I have time, I will attend. I wish you a happy life again."

Ash chatted with Mrs. Hudson, whom she had treated in the past, and then left Baker Street.On the way, she was still seriously thinking about whether the detective named Sherlock Holmes and the mage named Stephen Strange had a mysterious blood relationship.

Sherlock wasn't drinking, and there was nothing wrong with him.In reality he was just taking some kind of drug, and it was voluntary.

After he was sent to the bedroom, he did not fall asleep.He heard the conversation in the living room clearly.alcoholism?boring.Body check?no need.unusual?That's called extraordinary intelligence.mortuary?Oh well, John, you're finally right once again.

Mr. Detective heard that John had invited this unknown woman to his wedding.He didn't understand why, they didn't meet more than three times, they weren't that familiar, didn't they?John doesn't have any good female friends, and he's not gay.

Sherlock staggered out of his bed, opened the door to the living room.John watched him throw his body into the armchair he used to sit in, and then his attention went somewhere.

Female, young, single, living alone, well-educated, known to John, called Doctor Warren, does not sound like a pure British accent, has lived in the United States for many years, but from the appearance of clothing and hairstyle, it seems to be only intended to Walking around home, shoes are clean, not like going through a long walk...

"Your counselor?" Sherlock briefly analyzed the woman he had just met in his mind, and then looked at John who was sitting opposite him, "You live on Hill Street not far away, right? You should Glad she's just an ordinary counselor and not some liar or criminal."

John looked at him helplessly and said, "Of course Dr. Warren isn't some crooked criminal. But that's all you're thinking about? You didn't even hear what I said, did you?"

"So what did you say? I guess it doesn't really matter, it's like why I'm there in that state or something."

"You know everything." Watson has long been used to Sherlock's unusualness, and he stopped talking to him about these things, but talked about more important things, "Then please give me an answer, why do you Looks like an overdose of hallucinogens. If you have any common sense you know how dangerous that is, and if Dr. Warren hadn't happened to meet you, you'd probably fall in the middle of the road , or get hit by a car, or fall into the Thames. You can't expect Mycroft to pick you up from the ground anytime, anywhere, even if he keeps his eyes on you."

Sherlock looked at the angry John and fell silent. He could tell that the young counselor was not in danger, but he didn't want to put her in the position of a savior.And his brother from the British government, he couldn't be more free. He should spend his extra time on fitness instead of staring at his younger brother.

Sherlock ignored John's question and said, "Where is Mary? Why are you here? I thought you should be preparing for the wedding with Mary now. You should go to order the dishes for the wedding or try on clothes today." Dresses or something."

"You're avoiding the important ones again. Speaking of weddings, do you want to be the best man? We've discussed this issue several times."

John let go of the hallucinogen question, Sherlock obviously didn't want John to question him too much about it.

The detective didn't respond, and now he needed to free up part of his brain to ponder his latest discovery: why the city of London's criminal elements, which should have been scattered after Moriarty's death, suddenly became active again, as if they had a leader again.

He had witnessed Moriarty's death, a shot that could not have been faked.He would not consider such nonsensical things as Moriarty's resurrection from the dead. What he needed to think about was who inherited Moriarty's mantle, and what this person wanted to do.