Work Text:
Family:
noun.
1. A group of one or more parents and their children living together as a unit.
2. All the descendants of a common ancestor.
adjective.
1. Designed to be suitable for children as well as adults.
Notes 02/12/2018:
First (noun) definition makes most sense; although I am not Rosie’s parent. (Mary was the other in this case.) Perhaps Rosie and John are the family, and I am the third? More evidence needed.
Parent:
noun.
1. A father or mother.
Notes:
Could mean biological or adoptive parents. Since I am neither, the conclusion I had come to was that I am not Rosie’s parent: however the verb definition reads:
1. Be or act as a parent (to a child).
Notes cont:
I have been fulfilling the duties of a parent (alongside John), does this mean that I am her parent? This would lead me to conclude that I am part of the Watson family. On the flip side I do not know if John considers me part of it. Research at this point becomes opinion and not fact. Continuing this investigation would now involve speaking with John about it. Avoid.
***
Daughter:
noun.
1. A girl or woman in relation to either or both of her parents.
Notes 03/06/2018:
Nearly a month has passed. No answer from John. Investigation must continue. Definition of ‘daughter’ does not provide any answers, which brings me back to ‘parent’. Perhaps the only reason I included this was so I could add the biology definition of ‘daughter,’ which is an adjective, and means this:
1. Originating through division or replication.
Notes:
An example of the usage of ‘daughter’ in biology is daughter cells, which are a result of cell division in mitosis. If you do not know what mitosis is, you have clearly not been to school, but I will still explain it here. Mitosis is a process in which somatic cells, body cells (like skin cells, nerve cells, and blood cells, any cell that is not sperm or egg) reproduce by splitting one cell into two. The resulting cells are identical to the mother cell, and they are called daughter cells. Daughter cells can also undergo cell division and become mother cells. I believe that the human equivalent of this is watching your children grow up. Highly speculative, but of late John has been very emotional about Rosie starting pre-school. I do not understand why this is cause for misty eyes. When I told him this he patted me on the shoulder (I logged it in my mental list of: times John has touched me) and told me that if I had children, I would understand. Then he laughed. I think it was at the idea of me having a spouse and raising a small human.
***
Wife:
noun.
1. A married woman considered in relation to her spouse.
Notes 03/19/2018:
Only vaguely relates to the investigation of whether I am part of the Watson family. It is not evidence, more like me trying to be helpful. John has been sad recently. He does not talk about it, because he is John, and I do not bring it up, because I am Sherlock. But he worries me. I believe that he misses Mary, and her help in taking care of Rosie. No doubt he misses the period of ‘domestic bliss’ that he enjoyed while I was solving cases alone. He is better than he was after he discovered she was an ex-assassin, or when she died. However, ensuring John’s happiness is important to me to a remarkable degree. (This used to worry me. Now I have gotten used to it.) I have talked to Mrs. Hudson about how I can help him. I suggested trying to find him a new wife. At this point, she looked at me like I was missing something. I got angry at her and left. I have since tried to understand what I do not know:
Loss:
noun.
1. The state or feeling of grief when deprived of someone or something of value.
Notes:
Clarification– I know what loss is. I have experienced loss. (See: when Redbeard died Eurus killed Victor Trevor, when John left me for Mary, when John refused to speak with me.) What I do not understand is how to help John through the loss he is experiencing. Mrs. Hudson suggested I talk to him about it, but I do not know how t o do that either.
***
Notes 3/22/2018:
Investigation has devolved into something that reminds me of a journal/diary. Rereading this sounds as if I am using it as what John called a ‘coping strategy’ last night when we argued. (Logged in my mental list of: times John and I have argued, categorized into subsections: 1. Ended in reconciliation, 2. Ended in anger, 3. Ended in one or both of us crying (separately, of course), 4. Ended in anger but near-immediate guilt, and 5. Did not end at all, but lasted for weeks in which we did not talk to each other. Particular argument has been sorted into category 2.) This argument began, as they usually do, by one of us being in a bad mood and the other feeling impatient. It ended, as they usually do, with John asking what was wrong with me (Counterintuitively, see: times John has called me a freak: Zero!) and me saying something rude and witty. This time, two things were different than usual: first of all, John looked at me strangely– more on that later— and second of all, he asked me whether the “mundane experiments” I do are my “coping strategies.” When I asked him what I would need to cope with, he looked at me sadly. Then he did something very odd. He stepped forward slightly and then back again, in that John-movement that means he is hesitant or that he is angry (See: other common John-movements and their interpretations). He said, “Sherlock, I'm–” and then he cut himself off. I did not have time to respond, because he stepped forward fully and wrapped his arms around my waist. His hands were warm against my back, and I was just tall enough to rest my chin on his head. The hug lasted approximately 4.23 seconds (counting like one-one thousand, and on,) and then he pulled away. (See: times John has touched me: category 2: hugs. Hug count: 3 times. Once at his wedding, once after Mary’s death, once now, for a reason not yet deciphered.)
Notes:
Previous note split into two, because the first was getting too long. Continuing the events of John and I’s argument last night. He then smiled at me half-crookedly and went to bed. It seemed as if he had something to say. On second thought: I should have gone after him. Correction: that would have led me to his bedroom, so it is best that I didn’t.
***
Confession:
noun.
1. A formal statement admitting that one is guilty of a crime.
Notes 04/02/2018:
Mrs. Hudson told me to confess three days ago. We were babysitting Rosie, as John was at the clinic. I was not sure what she meant, so I decided I might as well have added it to my list of vocabulary. When circling back to the ambiguous statement that my landlady made, I can only assume that she could have meant two different things: 1. That I had done something John did not know about and would not like (See: the human head in the refrigerator, when I do not eat anything for days, various experiments that he deems ‘unsafe for children’.) or that I should tell him that I love him. (See: the reasons I love John Watson, dating from 1/29/2011. See also: important events in my life: meeting John Watson: 1 /29/2011.)
Notes:
I did not know that “confession,” or “to confess” meant that you were admitting to something bad in particular. If Mrs. Hudson was indeed referring to my love for John Watson, either she 1. Misused the word, or 2. She thinks that my love for him is not a good thing. This would be unfortunate, because Mrs. Hudson is the kindest person I have ever met and if she disapproves, then John will have little trouble dismissing it. IF she was misusing it, perhaps she should have used this word instead:
Admit:
verb.
1. Confess to be true or to be the case, typically with reluctance.
Notes:
This would be true, except it confuses me because it uses the word ‘confess.’ Maybe there are different connotations with the word, and what I have down in this notebook is simply the textbook definition. I find myself hoping this is true.
***
Care:
verb.
1. Feel concern or interest; attach importance to something.
Notes 04/03/2018:
John has told me that he cares about me. I believe I knew this before, like when he made me his best man, but it did not seem that way this time. I was sitting at my microscope and John was holding Rosie and rocking her. It was 4:23 in the afternoon. He had just gotten off his rounds at the hospital. It was very abrupt– “Sherlock, I really care about you, you know,” and then he swept into the other room. Referring to the definition, I do not know if John feels concern or interest in me, but I would think it was the former, when coupled with the hug and the mention of “coping mechanisms.”
***
Notes 4/05/2018:
I have done a google search: “Symptoms of Love.” The first result that this yielded was from a website called “Teen Vogue,” so I scrolled past. Under the first dropdown in the “People Also Ask” section (which is always more helpful than the top search result), it listed the signs that you are in love. They were: 1. A desire to know everything about them (check) , 2. A desire to be known in return, (yes) 3. Emotional intimacy (rarely), 4. Physical intimacy (no), and 5. Finding yourself wanting to take care of your partner. The previous vocabulary word: “Care.” Could John love me? As is in keeping with the rest of these note s, I must include a word.
Love:
noun.
1. An intense feeling of deep affection.
Notes:
There is no way to verify this without asking John directly. Tedious.
***
Loyal:
adjective.
1. Giving or showing constant support or allegiance to a person or an institution.
Notes 4/18/2018:
When asked, this was what Molly Hooper said was a staple of love. (I thought she might be a prudent choice to ask about this. Molly has a heart of gold and is also very sensitive.) Thankfully, she did not ask why I was asking. She just looked at me strangely. (See: times Molly has looked at me strangely. Count: I have lost count.)
Notes cont:
I am gathering all data possible, so my prat of a brother has also been questioned. As expected, he looked at me like I had suddenly transformed into a mass of squealing, mad ferrets. Then he asked me if it was about John, so I insulted him and left.
Notes, added 4/19/2018:
I do not think Mycroft knows what love is either.
***
Endearment:
noun.
1. A word or phrase expressing love or affection.
Notes 5/20/2018:
No updates in a month, because nothing has happened relating to my investigation in a month. However, today John called me “love.” This is what’s called a term of endearment, not just an “endearment” as the vocabulary suggests. I have never been called ‘“love” before. (See: number of times I have been called “love,” as of 5/20/2018: 1).
***
Proactive:
adjective.
1. (Of a person, policy, or action) creating or controlling a situation by causing something to happen rather than responding to it after it has happened.
Notes 6/02/2018:
I do not like advice. I do not take advice. However, good advice may have been given to me by Molly. Yesterday I was at the lab and she told me that she had ‘observed’ (not a real observation, or at least, a very obvious one. I told her this) that I was in love with someone. She told me to be ‘proactive.’ How this will help I do not know. There are several situations that I can see if I tell John I am in love with him, ranked from most desirable to least desirable: 1. He admits that he is also in love with me (unlikely), 2. He does not tell me he reciprocates, but he secretly does (how I would deduce this one, I am not sure), 3. He does not reciprocate, but he lets us continue to be friends (most likely), 4. He does not reciprocate, and things become awkward between us, but I get to keep him around (second most likely), 5. He does not reciprocate and he moves out because things can’t go back to normal, but he visits me occasionally (avoid if possible), and finally, 6. He is disgusted at the prospect of even reciprocating at all, he moves out, and we never speak again (avoid at all costs.) It is a 50/50 ratio from more desirable : less desirable. This situation must be carefully navigated. I may ask Mrs. Hudson. The only situations I am good at navigating are crime scenes.
***
Notes 6/03/2018:
I am going to tell him. I may regret this.
***
Notes 6/04/2018:
Tomorrow.
***
Notes 6/05/ 2018:
A word:
Hope:
noun.
1. A feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.
Notes:
I should not rely on this.
***
Surprise:
noun.
1. An unexpected or astonishing fact, event, or thing.
Notes 6/06/2018:
Experiment results concluded. A word to describe how I feel may be:
Happy:
adjective.
1. Feeling or showing pleasure or contentment.
Notes:
It was surprisingly easy to say. Although it was a bad time to say it. Rosie was wailing at 1:54 in the morning. I got to her crib first, because I had already been awake and it was more convenient to put her to sleep before she woke John, even though I am not good at soothing small children. But he came stumbling down the hall anyway, and he took Rosie from me while looking very handsome in his boxers, and I blurted it without thinking. John did not even look surprised. He only replied, “I love you too”, and rocked Rosie to sleep. (See: times John Watson has said “I love you” to me: count: 1). John Watson loves me. I did not expect this. (See: important events in my life: when John told me he loved me: 6/06/2018.)
***
Notes 6/08/2018:
There is still the investigation of whether I am part of the Watson family. At this point, I could probably ask. Tomorrow.
***
Notes 6/09/2018:
John has told me that I have the definition of family wrong. He tells me that it is actually this:
Family:
noun.
1. Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Rosie Watson.