Six Definitions.
Or, the three adjectives, two verbs, and a noun in John has used to describe Sherlock.
1, adj.
Brilliant, adj, noun.
(Figurative)
1. Splendid; magnificent.
2. Having great ability.
a. (SYN) accomplished, talented.
3. Extremely favorable.
4. (Music) clear and vivid in tone.
"That was…brilliant."
It was the first, the very first word John used to describe Sherlock (at least to his face). It was not the word Sherlock was expecting; as he told John, most people told him to piss off.
But Sherlock, above (almost) all else, is a show off.
He showed off for the unusual man with the psychosomatic limp, who was curious, not repelled. John hadn't been insulted, even though Sherlock had been fairly insulting, nor had he been scared, which was another common reaction.
Brilliant was a word Sherlock had only ever associated with music, with his violin.
Being brilliant was not the same thing as being smart, impressive, or intimidating.
All three were easily turned into bad things, which was a process Sherlock was intimately—cruelly—affiliated with.
Brilliant was less easily turned dark. It even had light words in the definition.
2, adj.
Late, adj, adverb.
1. Happening, coming, or developing after the usual or proper time.
2. Happening, coming, or developing near the end.
3. Not long past, recent.
4. Recently dead.
"What would you describe me as, John? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?"
"Late."
Perhaps it was a twist of fate, or maybe it was actually fate, that the second meeting of the word grew to be true, too.
John had been using wit to allay the fear, something he picked up in the army. Sherlock was very nearly 'coming after the usual or proper time', and close to 'coming near the end'. At least, the end for Sarah and John.
That didn't stop the word from running through John's mind, one day, standing stiffly next to a stone set in the ground that was meant to represent the final resting place of a great man who may or may have not been a good man.
Late. Late. Late. You machine.
John's leg hurt like hell, but it couldn't compare to the sharp tearing-shredding-breaking-feeling in his chest, where he knew the heart cavity to rest. As a doctor he knew the pain he was feeling was psychosomatic, but then again, it was same with his leg and he had never been able to stop feeling that.
Until he met the (late) Sherlock Holmes, that is.
3, adj.
Best, adj, adverb.
1. Most good, excellent, or useful.
2. Largest.
a. (SYN) greatest, most.
3. Chief.
4. In the most excellent way; most thoroughly.
"You were the best man, the most human human being, I have ever met."
'Best' was a good word, for Sherlock. 'Good' was too much pressure, and not accurate. He was not good. 'Great' was a bit pretentious, and brought to memory various historical characters that were not actually all that great in character, only in deeds.
It was a good word by itself, but put it in front of the words 'man' or 'friend' and make it a title, and the word becomes precious, unfathomable, a gift.
Best man. It was not a title Sherlock deserved, he knew, but it was one John elected to give him because John knew it to be true.
Best friend. That was more malleable, because John had precious few friends, and Sherlock was the closest one. Up until the point he faked his death, and even after, maybe.
And perhaps, in this case, John was the better man, for knowing there was nothing Sherlock wanted so much in the world as to be John's best friend again, and for giving that to him.
1, verb.
Dedicating, verb.
1. The act of setting apart for a reason.
a. (SYN) consecrate.
2. To give up wholly or earnestly to some person or purpose.
3. To address to a friend or patron as a mark of affection, respect, or gratitude.
Sherlock set apart his own life, his intelligence, his mind for the sake of the mystery and the puzzle and the game. He didn't become a scientist or a philosopher, rightly so, because he never would have been happy there. He didn't become a pirate, either, but that was primarily because of a great deal of research and a well-worded argument on Mycroft's side.
He became a detective, and dedicated his time and energy to solving the mysteries.
Sherlock gave up the respect people had for him for the sake of Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade, and John. He gave up his audience—genius needs an audience—for his friends. He dedicated, gifted, that to him.
He dedicated a phone call to John, as a sign of affection, of respect, of gratitude. A goodbye note, as he said, to show John that even if he was lying he trusted him and loved him.
2, verb.
Sleeping, verb.
1. Restful in mind and body; be without ordinary thought or movement.
2. To rest, as in the grave; lie buried.
It was a rare time when John saw Sherlock sleeping, as in to be restful in mind and body.
He was always without ordinary thought or movement, his being more powerful and more graceful than an ordinary person's.
But sleeping? That was rare, indeed.
When it did happen, like the last time John used the word in regards to Sherlock, he had come home from hospital to find Sherlock utterly out of it in the chair. John was still working at the hospital, despite falling asleep on duty more than once, and venting frustration out on a chair after Mary and all that came with her. John had been tired, but had looked at the pile of pale skin curled up in a cushy chair, with one limp hand clutching at a violin bow, and turned right around.
He fixed himself a cup of tea, grabbed a novel he'd been working through, and sat down across from the slumbering detective. He looked a lot less drawn, less taught, when sleeping. His brow smoothed out and the muscles unwound, no longer supporting the lanky frame. He was less intense, like this.
So John sipped his tea and read the book, being quiet as not to wake the other man, and enjoyed knowing that—for the time being—Sherlock wasn't tense, was sleeping softly without the nightmares that plagued them both, curled up like a cat in the chair, knobby bones sticking out from under silken robe.
1, noun.
Soul mate, noun.
1. An intimate associate or companion.
2. One who completes another, either by romantic or platonic connection.
If he's said it once, he's said it a thousand times: John Watson is not gay. As Sherlock so eloquently put, he is married to his work.
But the two need each other, more than anything else. They provide something no one else could, because there is no other John and no other Sherlock, and the two complete each other, like the Asian Yin and Yang and two interlocking pieces of puzzle.
Sherlock needs the audience, needs the comfort, and needs a companion. 'I need an assistant', in his own words. He needs a John to get the milk and make him be nice to the stupid people and to wake him up when he has nightmares.
John needs the war, and the adventure, that follows along in Sherlock's wake. 'You're not haunted by the war; you miss it.' as the bloody git Mycroft pointed out. With Sherlock there's no cane, there's the desire to eat, they're the adrenaline rush accompanied by a half-a-dozen different chemicals John could name but won't.
It's the man with the pill and the man with the gun. It's the ex-cocaine addict and the new addiction. It's the man who's never had a lover and a man whose lovers keep hurting him.
In one story there is red thread around the pinky fingers of soul mates that connect them. Sherlock could tell you where the story originates, and tell you it's a fallacy, a fable. John would shrug, because he's heard a dozen others like it.
Somewhere, someone laughs, because the two of theirs' thread is all sorts of tangled, but it is there, and it is connected.