Watson glared coldly at the man in front of him as they stood in the pouring rain. "I hate you, Holmes. I hope you realize that," he growled out.
"Oh shut up, Watson. You know you enjoy it," Holmes replied simply, avoiding his gaze. He flinched slightly as Watson slammed his hand against the wall next to Holmes.
"Dammit, Holmes! Have you no sense of humanity?" he snarled, turning away from the man. He ignored the rain that ran down his face as he rubbed his forehead slightly. As he pushed some of the wet hair out of his face, Holmes leaned against the stone wall. "I really thought you couldn't get any lower..." Watson muttered finally.
"Is there really such a thing as rock bottom?" Holmes muttered as he started to walk away and down the street. Watson quickly grabbed him by the arm, stopping him. Holmes turned back to look at him, his face emotionless.
"Why did you do it, Holmes?" Watson finally asked, looking him straight in the eyes.
Holmes finally broke the gaze as he looked at the ground finally. "The same reason I do everything, Watson," he began simply and with a shrug. "Because it felt good to me. I needed to do it..." Watson looked surprised at the response and his grip on Holmes's arm loosened slightly. Holmes pulled his arm free quickly, taking a step away from Watson.
They looked at each other momentarily before Holmes finally turned his gaze to the ground and started to walk away. "You're wrong, Holmes!" he shouted, noticing the slight pause in the other man's gait. As Holmes continued walking, Watson snarled, "There is such a thing as rock bottom. And you're sitting on the lowest edge of that rock."
Watson watched Sherlock Holmes walking down the cold and narrow street before finally rubbing his forehead and turning away. As he started to walk in the opposite direction, he didn't hear Holmes as he muttered, "I hit rock bottom long ago, dear Watson. I got here when I lost your love. Now I just wonder if I've jumped off the edge..."