John shuffled quietly into the flat, breathing heavily. He was getting far too old, and the stairs were far too steep.
A strange feeling came over him as his eyes searched for Sherlock, finding him by the window. His skin, pale and illuminated by the light of the moon, was etched with lines and scars.
Sherlock turned his head and met his gaze, a shadow of a smile across his lips.
"It's time, John."
Years ago, they had spoken about this very moment.
Life had once been cruel to them. But as their separate paths became one, addictions were broken and wounds were mended. Pain became no more than a distant memory.
And so they spoke of the next adventure.
When we go, we go together.
What are you suggesting, Sherlock?
Nothing at all. I am simply stating what I know to be true.
When we go, we go together.
They are no longer young and strong. Their bodies ache and their hair has turned to gray.
And yet, when they look at each other, they can still feel it all as if it were yesterday.
The thrill of the chase, the blood pumping through their veins.
They look at each other now and still see the beauty of their youth. In each other's eyes, they do not grow old.
The two of them: against the world, always.
John does not question it. As soon as Sherlock has spoken the words, he feels it too.
He won't be far behind.
What do you think is on the other side?
You.
They do not cry.
Together, they have been happy. They have lived a life less ordinary, simply by knowing each other.
It is more than either of them could have imagined.
Greater than their wildest dreams.
They do not speak of regrets, for there are none.
Instead, they speak of the friends who have gone ahead of them into the light. Sisters, brothers, confidants, and comrades.
In time, they will be together again.
In the end, they do nothing to initiate it. It is simply a truth, as Sherlock knew it would be.
And so, they give themselves over to it. They both know that to fight against it would be futile.
John pours them both a cup of tea, and they go to bed.
Their eyes are heavy with impending slumber, but they do not look away.
There in the darkness, they make their silent declarations.
When they fall asleep, it is for the last time.
Let us raise a parting glass, John. To you.
And also to you, Sherlock.
When they wake, they wake together.
This time, there will be no more partings.