Boyfriend Development Program

John was woken up by the phone ringing.

He glanced at the alarm clock with dim eyes. It was less than 7 o'clock, and it was only more than an hour since he fell asleep again last night.Soon the phone was quiet, and before John could heave a sigh of relief, it rang again like a death urging!Supporting his cracking head, John picked up the phone, and a name was written on the caller ID: Inspector Lestrade.

John sighed, and pressed the answer button resignedly: "hello."

"John, sher..." I don't know if it was John's illusion, but Lestrade seemed to utter a familiar syllable, "Is Seamus here?"

"Lestrade, for God's sake, he has a cell phone, and you have his number." John moaned, "Why don't you just call him?"

"The Holmes family." Lestrade sighed on the phone, stating a fact in a "you get it" tone.

—Yes, yes, from the Holmes, how could he have forgotten!Damn the holmes family!

John cursed secretly in his heart, but his tone was very normal: "Is it very important?"

"Abigail went home, and then the ninth murder case appeared, and now we are rushing to the scene of the crime." Lestrade paused, with a hint of anxiety in his tone, "Tell Seamus to come quickly, and you, John. The address follows I'll text you guys."

"I'll tell Seamus." John hung up the phone, supported his head with a splitting headache, got out of bed and put on his clothes, shoes and socks - judging from what he knew about the curly-haired boy, the other party would never leave him Time to get dressed—go downstairs.Finally, he found Sherlock in the living room: the curly-haired boy was staring intently at the test tube in his hand, obviously he was doing an experiment. John's anger was almost palpable: "Did you not sleep?!"

"Obviously." Sherlock shook the test tube in his hand and muttered a word from the back of his throat.

"Fuck you 'obviously'!" John's drowsiness faded away, he leaned on a cane and walked aggressively in front of Seamus, "Seamus, you are human, no one can live on experiments and cases!"

Sherlock took his eyes off the test tube and looked straight up at John.The bright sunshine in the morning—a rare change from the gloomy weather in London—falls on the curly-haired boy's pale face and high nose bridge, and the high cheekbones glow with a subtle golden luster. The emerald green color looks weird and charming under the light. John's breath was suffocated, and his anger, like the morning tide, receded in an instant.

"Sleeping is boring." Sherlock looked at John, his tone was innocent like a child (of course, with his current appearance, it can also be called "worthy of the name" - provided that John has never seen the other person who is exactly like Sherlock. The words and deeds that come out), "John, when will people not need to sleep?" - Seamus is serious!The little man was almost defeated by the naked question in his eyes, his lips squirmed for a long time, but he still couldn't utter a word.

"What did Lestrade say?" Sherlock was the first to look away, and put the test tube on the shelf, "New developments in the case?"

John subconsciously wondered how the boy who sent the questionnaire would know, and swallowed the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. ——The boy with left and right curly hair will start from the hair, expression, gestures, mobile phone... down to his walking posture, analyze and deduce a lot of evidence to prove his inference.And, probably, um, should have deduced it the first time he walked in the door.That's the bloody holmes gene. John licked his lips and showed a short smile: "Uh, yes. Ninth."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Sherlock jumped up, flushed on his high cheekbones, and his excitement was beyond words, "I knew it! Ha! I knew it!" He grabbed his coat and scarf and put it on indiscriminately, wind The door of the living room was generally scraped out, but the words of the curly-haired boy remained in the air: "John, keep up! Quick!"

John glanced at his phone helplessly, thanked himself for his foresight again, and quickly limped along with a cane!

……

Inside the taxi.

The car window reflected Sherlock's face: excited, extremely excited, but secretly forbearing. John even noticed the unnatural, subconscious rubbing of the curly-haired boy's fingertips.He coughed and twitched the corners of his mouth: "You just said 'I knew it'. So, you expected the ninth case?"

"Yes, of course, very obvious." John's accusation obviously gave Sherlock an outlet to vent, the little man could see the tendency of the curly-haired boy to hold back his hands and dance, and he could even see her turn back to transparent A strange and ecstatic light flashed in the pupils, "First, according to Lestrade, someone called the murderer before, and then the murderer killed his wife and daughter... What a coincidence, based on the murderer's" Cannibalism', he will not do pure murder, plus the phone cannot be traced, - from a public phone booth, doubt [-]. Suspect [-], will's mental state, and what he said about the murderer before he died Description, it is obvious that Will has not recovered from the empathy for the murderer, despair, fear, what is the murderer afraid of? Death? Of course, everyone is afraid. But Will’s expression is more than that. Doubt [-], Abigail’s The look, the wandering eyes, the panicked look, she's lying, at least not honest in some ways. Think about what we asked her."

John couldn't help recalling...

In the ward, Will, Sherlock, John, and Abigail lying on the hospital bed.

"So, you killed my father?" Abigail turned to Will, forced a smile, choked up for a moment, and then hid all the emotions in his throat.She looked at Will with an almost calm expression, as if a relevant person had died. Sherlock frowned, he could clearly see the madness hidden under the girl's expression, just like the undercurrent hidden under the calm sea.And the eyes of the other party, who had a nightmare—or can use the sentence "recalling the past" to describe—the eyes of the past = nightmare?interesting.The corners of the curly-haired boy's lips rose slightly.

"Yes." Will smiled with difficulty, "but I'm not..."

"Who are they?" Abigail interrupted Will bluntly. She didn't know if she didn't want to hear an excuse or she didn't want to remind herself. She pointed to Sherlock and John, "...Father and son?"

"I'm sorry, we are not father and son. We just came here on behalf of Scotland Yard to see if you have any needs. My name is John H. Watson, and you can call me Dr. Watson." John pursed his lips, and a kind expression appeared on his face smile, "This is seamusholmes."

"Dr. Watson? Are you my new doctor?"

"Actually, I work in a small clinic." John shrugged, and the smile on his face grew wider. "I guess the hospital has better candidates for your doctor's appointment."

"What are your plans next?" Sherlock interrupted suddenly.

"I'm going to sell the house. I think it should belong to me now." Abigail smiled, and didn't take it lightly because it was a child who asked the question, "Then find a university, buy an apartment, and live a normal life. "

Seeing the movement on the girl's little finger, Sherlock paused slightly, and a faint light flashed in his eyes: Is she lying?interesting.He said without hesitation: "Abigail, you still remember your father killed your mother and tried to kill you, although the nurse said you don't remember."

"Seamus, Abigail has just experienced such a tragedy!" Will's expression became agitated, he yelled at the curly-haired boy, his spirit was on the verge of collapse, "Can't you ask again later!"

"It's okay." The girl paused, and after pointing to Will, she moved her eyes to the quilt, as if observing the pattern drawn on the quilt, "Yes. I still remember. So, he killed my father."

Will's face turned even paler.As for John, he saw the light glowing on Sherlock's pale face—the curly-haired boy who was at the crux of the case every time had such an expression.He had a bad premonition, and sure enough, Sherlock showed his anti-social personality again: "Did you help your father hunt those girls together?"

"Father said that an elk is very similar to a human being. Eating her is a respect for her, and killing senselessly is just murder, so he never wastes a single bit." Abigail answered irrelevantly.

Sherlock wanted to ask some more questions, but John stopped him in a low voice.

……

"You mean—?" John asked in surprise,—obviously he also thought of Abigail's last answer, and he frowned, "But we don't have evidence."

"Evidence. Yes, evidence!" Sherlock yelled over his shoulder. "We must get evidence!"

"I still can't figure it out, what does this have to do with this case?" John raised his doubts, and then doubted the conclusion, "Wait, Lestrade said that Abigail went home, and then the ninth case happened, And she has a very strong motive and familiar means of committing the crime, could it be... abigail is the murderer?"

"Excellent performance!" Sherlock looked at the little man beside him with a look of surprise and praise, "Except that the conclusion is all wrong."

"..." John felt that he should add another item to the list of "Holmes family's fucking badness": the meanest way he is best at - irony.Instead of being angry, he smiled, "I also ask Seamus, Mr. Hell, Mr. Holmes, to give me some advice."

"The murderer can't be Abigail, she doesn't have the guts to commit the crime." Sherlock gave John a sideways look, and made a final decision.

"Who is that?"

"You'll know when you see the scene of the crime."