Thoughts in the Night.
The rain beats ceaselessly on the windows, I do not look up. I focus only on the screams in my head, the screams that will not stop. I look at you and you are sleeping, how I envy you your mind. To sleep peacefully would be a blessing indeed, I do not think I have ever slept peacefully; the screams and the nightmares have always been there. Even before Reichenbach. I smile, a cruel smile, as you shift in your sleep. Why are you here? Why do I need you? I often think I over-complicate my life. Perhaps. Perhaps I am nothing more than a shadow, hardly real, needing your presence to link me to reality. Why does the night bring on such ponderous thoughts I wonder? The enveloping darkness that brings with it a kind of madness?
Standing I walk over to my desk, on it are scribbled pieces of paper with words and phrases written upon them that I can't decipher. I sit and take out a battered notebook with my initials upon the cover in gold; delicately I run my finger over them. How often have I done this in the past? I turn to you to make sure you are still sleeping, and smile as I realise you are. Slowly I open the book, you, dear friend, would be amazed at what is contained in these pages, all my thoughts ranging from boyhood to man hood, all in one volume. I can imagine your surprise when I tell you of all my past cases, how within these pages is written tales about my first love. Yes Watson, my first love, at little more than seventeen! How you will laugh as you realise your friend is nothing but a man after all, not some infallible machine, but a man; who wants nothing more than to be a man.
I start as you groan but turning to face you I find you still sleeping. Running a hand through my hair I realise how tired I am. Tired of fighting, tired of maintaining this exterior that I feel so necessary. Necessary for what I wonder? To fool you? Others like you? It started not long after that first love, this mask, this façade I constructed – and now it is too late to change it. I sigh, sinking my head into my hands I sigh. A sound that encompasses all I have lost, all I have let myself lose, and yet I regret none of it. Nothing would I change. Not Irene Adler, not you, not…but that is something else entirely that I can not think about now. I can imagine your raised eyebrow at this conundrum. But it is painful, and my mind rebels at pain.
Still, in spite of all these late night musings I am what I am. As confusing as that may be to an outsider. I am happy – to a point, yet restless. Always restless, never satisfied. That is my curse, to be never at peace. To never know what it is I am searching for. To be alone. Always alone. Never to have taken a chance on another human being other than you is a sin. A grave sin Watson that I cannot be absolved of. I have abandoned those I have loved, I have lost love.
My eyes rebel at being open and the screams inside me urge me to sleep. I walk over to where you are and place a blanket gently over your shoulders. You do not stir. Tears form in my eyes as I look upon you. I will lose you one day, as punishment for all I have done I somehow know I will lose you and I am afraid. Stay with me. My one and only prayer, the only one I have ever uttered leaves my lips as I climb into my cold bed. Dear Lord, do not let him leave me…do not take Watson for my sins. I drift into unconsciousness as I always do with your name upon my lips. Watson…just as my eyes close I see you standing before me, the blanket looped around your shoulders and disapproval upon your face. You know I am dying and it is of my own doing, yet you love me still. Do not leave me…the words form this time and I feel your arm lowering me down, speaking softly that after al these years you will not abandon me now, in my hour of need. I want to laugh but the sound will not form. Old age is unforgiving, unyielding. Do not leave me Lord…Do not let him leave me…
As soon as I am sure Holmes is asleep I take my place by his bedside, my usual place. His voice continues long after his voice drifts into sleep. It is always the same. My name, always my name pronounced with such fear that I cannot bear to leave him. Old age is certainly unforgiving, but I have stayed with him through worse and I will not leave him now. We will fight this together as we have always fought, and I pray as I have always prayed since the ay I met him. Lord, do not take him from me, do not let him leave me…..
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Just a little one-shot to get back into the habit of writing! Reviews would be much appreciated as I know this, and my writing in general, can be a little confusing, any suggestions would be greatly appreciated! And as always, I own neither Holmes nor Watson.