(Sorry my Op.5 hype is off the charts: super long post up ahead with a bit of analysis into why Sherlock says the things he does to convince William to live)
Can I just say that Morimyu Op. 3 does a fantastic job at setting up the confrontation between William and Sherlock?
William sings, conflicted, about whether he can still find forgiveness. His mind is set on dying (alone), but there's a part of his heart that wavers.
AND THEN. AND THEN!!!!! SHERLOCK MEETS HIM IN DURHAM AND TELLS HIM
A crime is still a crime, no matter how noble the intention. He cannot forgive killing others and using the deaths of people, even despicable people. (Which is beautifully contrasted against the Jack the Ripper case btw). He will catch the Lord of Crime and punish him for his actions.
It's at that point that William turns a bit sorrowful and resigned (and Shogo's expression is so!!!! SO!!!!! wow his despair is palpable) almost as if he's thinking to himself 'as expected, there is no forgiveness for someone like me' and probably solidifies his idea that death is the only suitable recompense for him.
--
ANYWAY back to the manga itself
His sorrowful condemnation:
I think that it's precisely because of this, the only person whose forgiveness can change his mind is Sherlock.
It doesn't matter that Fred or Louis or what any others think. They can call him a good person all they want, but it doesn't change the fact that in his mind, he is already condemned.
(Besides that, his accomplices are all evil because their plan is inherently evil to him. Their words hold little weight. A sinner can't save another.)
That is, until Sherlock tells him this.
And suddenly his entire worldview is upended. Because all this time, he believed there was only condemnation to be found for someone like him.
Sherlock, his righteous actor in the stage of London's crimes, has deemed him worthy of redemption.
And if the one good person thinks that William can be saved...
But no! How can believe that? William James Moriarty is the devil incarnate. He is stained. His sins are unforgivable, no matter what Sherlock says. Murder is unforgivable, right?
So Sherlock flips the script.
He reminds William that HE is also a criminal and murderer. (It's a perfect crime in the eyes of the law, but William knows the truth)
He becomes the mirror reflecting William's image so that William can come to the realisation that they are all capable of good and evil.
The greatest evil is capable of good.
The greatest good (Sherlock - in Liam's eyes, at least) is capable of evil.
And if William can still think of Sherlock as good despite this,
And if William can forgive Sherlock for murder...
Then why can't William himself be forgiven for murder?
I think, in some ways, here Sherlock also confesses that he has lost the mandate or the right to catch William as a detective on the right side of the law.
He's not standing there as someone catching a criminal.
They're now standing as equals. Friends (or whatever you call that tension they have going on LOL), rivals, equals.
It's no longer "catch" in the criminal sense, but to "catch" a falling friend. A trust fall, if you will.
(It just occurred to me that the whole chapter is just a trust fall exercise on a large scale LMAO)
This changes the whole trajectory of what William believes in. That seed of doubt has been planted in him - that he could, perhaps, still find forgiveness.
More importantly, that he has Sherlock's forgiveness.
And that is what allows him to live on.
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Spones Day 2023 fic
Canon divergent universe where TMP never happened. Takes place a few years before TWOK (but if TWOK happens is in the stars). Kirk has retired from Starfleet (just so you’re not confused), because I like that tidbit from Generations.
#McCoy didn’t know they were dating #first kiss #strangely proactive Spock
~1000 words. | G
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The door to the Transporter Beam-up Center opened, and mixed groups of various species started to come out. McCoy moved to the side to not stand in their way, his eyes scanning the crowd for Spock’s familiar face. It was a few minutes before he heard, “Doctor McCoy.”
McCoy startled. “I need to buy you a cowbell.”
Spock lifted an eyebrow at him. “You’ve been saying that for years, Doctor, and I’m still waiting.” He raised his hand, fingers spread in a Vulcan salute. “We meet again.”
McCoy blinked and looked at his hand. His third finger quivered as he tried to connect it with the fourth one, hoping to form a V, but with no success. He gave up, shaking his fingers a bit, relieving the slight pain in his ring finger. One day, one day, he would succeed.
Spock held out his hand, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.
McCoy glared at him. “You could’ve done it from the beginning.” He clasped Spock’s hand, soaking in the warmth he hadn’t felt for three months. “How was the trip?” He let go.
“Commanding a ship full of cadets on their training voyage is hardly a trip, Doctor.”
“You visited Vulcan before that, didn’t you?”
Spock gave a stiff nod. “Sarek sends his regards.” He beckoned toward the exit. “Shall we?”
Spock led him to a nearby restaurant.
Even after three years, it still felt odd whenever Spock invited him out. Sometimes to a science or technical museum, sometimes to a restaurant, sometimes to an arboretum. Just the two of them. If anyone had told him that ten years ago, five years ago, hell, even three years ago, he would scoff and tell them not to drink anymore. But Spock kept reaching out, and McCoy kept saying yes.
“Have you spoken to Jim recently?” McCoy asked after they ordered. He kept his eyes on the tabletop, not wanting to see Spock’s judging expression.
“Not since before my trip to Vulcan,” Spock said. “He acquired a dog.”
McCoy raised his head. “Jim has a dog?”
“His name is Butler.”
McCoy blinked.
“You would know that if you called him,” Spock said, his eyes piercing.
“Well…” McCoy wet his lips. “He could call me.”
“You informed him rather vehemently you didn’t want to see him unless he comes out of retirement.”
“You can’t tell me you think he can just live on a farm in Idaho and be happy.”
“That is not for us to judge.” Spock sipped his tea. “He appears to miss you.”
McCoy’s stomach did a funny flip. He reached for his glass of water and clasped it in both hands. His argument with Jim was ugly, and they hadn’t seen or talked to each other for two years.
“So, uhm…” he started but was saved by the waiter bringing their meals. The plates were placed, and McCoy grabbed the utensils. He should not think about Jim. Spock had always made it clear that they should resolve it themselves and did not wish to discuss it.
“It’s good to see you, Spock,” he said instead.
Spock smiled.
They dug into their meals.
“My father offered me to work with him and accompany him to Ensis,” Spock said between bites.
McCoy frowned. “You want to leave Starfleet?”
“It would not immediately come to that, but it is an option I am considering.”
First Jim. Now Spock. McCoy had stayed in San Francisco because he wanted to stay close to them. Then Jim left. He stayed because Spock would have someone welcoming him back whenever he left on a training voyage. He stayed because… because he…
He swallowed.
“I wanted to ask for… your opinion,” Spock said, his eyes focused somewhere behind McCoy’s shoulders.
“My opinion?” McCoy put down his utensils. He didn’t feel hungry anymore.
“I have… always appreciated your company, Doctor.” Spock frowned. “Leonard.”
McCoy's heart skipped. He didn’t remember the last time Spock used his name.
“In the last three years, perhaps before that, the appreciation evolved, changed.” Spock looked him in the eyes. “I do not enjoy the thought of not seeing you for months.”
McCoy didn’t know what to say. His mind was flying at warp speed. The almost realization a minute ago. Every time Spock invited him to go somewhere. Every time McCoy invited Spock to his apartment, sharing meals, cooking together. The soft brushes of their shoulders, as they passed each other in McCoy’s narrow kitchen. The soft brushes of the back of their hands, as they walked down the streets or halls of the museums. Spock’s fingers on his elbow, demanding his attention. So common, so frequent that he didn’t even notice them anymore.
“Are we dating, Spock?” McCoy blurted out.
“As there hasn’t been an official agreement, we are not.”
“Do you want to?” McCoy asked before he could think about it.
The tips of Spock’s ears darkened. “That was the matter I wanted to discuss today. In order to answer my father’s offer, I first needed an answer from you.”
“Why?”
“I have already told you. I would have… missed you.”
McCoy could not hold back his smile, his cheeks growing hot.
“If you did not answer positively, creating a physical distance between us would be a logical thing to do.”
“The distance wouldn’t help,” McCoy murmured.
“Perhaps.” Spock inclined his head. “But it appears we do not have to test it.”
“But your father –”
“My father is aware.”
McCoy opened his mouth and closed it. “You…” He wet his lips. “You talked about us with Sarek?” Us. There was an us.
“My father thinks highly of you,” Spock said. “Mother too. She’d like it if you accompanied me next time I visit Vulcan.”
McCoy blinked.
“You don’t have to give me an answer today.” Spock bit his lower lip. McCoy hadn’t seen that habit in years. “But I would like to kiss you.”
McCoy nodded, lost for words. His heart beat loud in his ears. He raised his hand.
Spock leaned across the table and pressed their lips together.
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