Sherlock paced relentlessly in the darkness. He couldn't sleep, especially not tonight when the moon's glow was at its strongest.

He found himself standing in front of the window, the moonlight only just leaking from behind the curtains. A unexplainable emotion caused his blood to boil and his heart to race and he ripped the curtains apart.

He stood there for a moment, his pale skin illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon. He slowly glanced down at the street below, finding himself watching the night-life of the city just as she once did.

She would appear in the night and he would find her here, serenely watching the going-ons below as if she were a goddess and the city was her toy. They would stand together, linked only by their contempt for the stupidity of mankind. The moonlight would reflect in her steely grey eyes, and make them seem like they glowed.

And as nightingale vacated its throne for the lark, she would slip away once more.

And with the sun high in the sky, another building fell, another government was broken into, another country left in chaos.

And Sherlock was called on find this mysterious "Night Watcher".

And he would be right on her tail when she would disappear.

Only to reappear again at night, to watch the city from his window.

But he always knew that their game would never last.

As much as it caused him an unexplainable pain in his chest to say, he knew he would win.

And their game would end.

And there would be no more people-watching in the moonlight.

Or watching the glow of the moon reflect in the silver of her eyes.

And there would just be him in the night,

Alone

She looked into his eyes for one last time, marveling at their blue.

and wished they had been born someone else.

Someone simple minded enough to let their lives be changed by love.

And let a warm hug, a loving kiss, and a promise of forever change all they had stood for.

But they were both to hard set in their ways and wishes were the actions that a weak man never took.

And he pulled the trigger

The stupidity of mankind mourns for the dead.

Yet, in the haze of its idiocy, mankind failed to notice that

it was those left behind that suffered the most.

His eyes had been burned out by the glowing of her eyes and the moonlight leaking in the window.

Her image was forever burned into his sight.

And the moon would never glow again

—

Sherlock is an amazing show. The characters are not just round characters, but they might as well be every other shape out there. But Sherlock is perhaps the most complicated character to understand.

A lot of people hope that he can grow to love, that he would slowly change for that someone.

But from what I understand of Sherlock Holmes, I don't think he is capable of love to that extent. After all, we are taught love, we don't know how to care and dote without being showed what is caring and doting.

Feel free to disagree.