Standing in the wake of devastation, Sherlock Holmes looked out onto the ghost of a wide, wide sea. He had been balanced on the edge of the unknown for the entirety of the storm, and now his foot dangled playfully over it. It was the last day.
It was the one place he could think clearly, up on this jagged rock. The one place he felt himself to be impossibly alone. Today, Sherlock had promised himself, he would indulge in this selfish delight just once more. Tomorrow would bring whatever tomorrow brought. It was seldom of use to dwell on it.
He was aware that the dark-haired man had approached, but ignored his presence. Sherlock closed his eyes and let the wind lick his hair, breathing in the cataclysms which shattered rocks beneath his feet for what he perceived to be the last time.
"All things must come to an end, Sherlock."
The distant voice reached him on some level, the words lingering in his head. Abandoning his thoughts, Sherlock turned from the sea and headed back towards the grass. The man called out again.
"I never said you had to like it."
As Sherlock mounted the incline, his brother followed. At the top, they joined the path that ran along the edge of the cliff, and for a time walked side by side in silence. As the path veered to the left, Sherlock got a full view of the bay. The tide was low, and he could see where the force of the river water had left a gorge down its centre. Clouds parted, and the moonlight glided over the placid bay, as if to make amends.
A/N: Hi. This is my first story, so I would find it really helpful if you reviewed. Any and every criticism would be very much appreciated! Thanks. :)