Water. Trillions upon trillions of gallons of it.

Crashing, pounding, cascading.

It had to be the most magnificent waterfall I had ever seen in my life. Towering for hundreds of feet above and below the path upon which I was standing, the roaring crashing cacophony rang in my ears like the noise of a thousand steam engines all pounding in unison.

I stood in awe of the colossal work of Nature and turned to my companion.

"It certainly is magnificent, eh Watson?" he shouted over the noise of the Falls, peering carefully over the edge to the chasm below, and I agreed wholeheartedly.

"John!'

I heard a voice from the path behind me, and I turned to look.

And there she was, my own angelic Mary, her golden hair glistening with the spray of the Falls, her blue eyes dancing with merriment, the very picture of rosy health.

"Mary!"

"Come along, John," she said with a laugh, taking my hand and tugging me along the path.

I was ready to follow that angel anywhere, do anything for her – but wait.

There was a reason I was not supposed to leave the Falls. What was it?

"Now, John! Come along!" my wife cried playfully, her lovely voice tinkling like a clear bell over the noise of the water. She tugged once more at my hand and I at last followed willingly.

But what was the reason I was not supposed to leave? Was it really that important?

No, surely not. I was perfectly happy, at long last, in the company of that miraculously lovely creature standing in front of me.

I followed her down the path, reveling in her perfect beauty – but then I looked back.

And saw to my horror that the companion I had left behind was now engaged in a hand-to-hand fight with another man – and they were both struggling dangerously close to the edge of the Falls.

"No!"

I pulled my hand from Mary's and started back toward the two men, knowing that I had to help.

"Wait, John!" she pleaded, catching hold of me once more.

"I cannot wait, Mary!" I cried, jerking free, a sick feeling forming in my stomach as the men struggled fiercely on the edge of the narrow path.

"After all this time, and you cannot stay for even a moment?" Her lovely blue eyes filled with tears, and my heart melted at the sight of it. I wanted so much to hold her – just once...just once more...

But I tore my gaze away from her and turned again – only just in time to see the two men go crashing over the edge of the path with a united terrified scream, tumbling, falling, two limp bodies turning over and over...down...down...into the crashing cauldron of water and foam below.

"Dear Lord, please no!"

I sat straight up in bed, breathing so hard I was nearly hyperventilating, tears running down my face, my stomach churning with a roiling, sickening nausea – but wait, I was not at the Reichenbach Falls, I was - I was in bed?

It had been a nightmare.

Holmes had not gone over the Falls.

And Mary had not come back to me.

I did not know which realization was causing the tears that had unconsciously started.

I tried desperately to control my breathing, still utterly terrified by the reality of the dream. I had not had such a vivid nightmare – especially that nightmare – in over a year – why now? On the first night I was back in Baker Street?

I was shivering all over with the very realistic remembrances that were still flashing through my mind, and I got up, hastily threw on a dressing gown and slippers, and headed for the door – I could not stay another moment in that bedroom, for it was pressing in upon me terrifyingly with its darkness.

At the sight of the cozy hall lamp below me, the blackness of the Reichenbach Falls and seeing Holmes's death and Mary's resurrection seemed to fade slightly, but the visions were still so very, very real. I sank down on the top step of the stairs, drawing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms round them. And then I buried my face and tried to get hold of myself, so shaken was I by that horrid dream.

I was trying desperately to stop the tears from rolling down my face, trying to calm my shaking nerves, and so engrossed was I in my battle for control that when I felt a tentative hand on my trembling shoulder I started violently, gasping in sudden fright.

"Easy, Watson – I am sorry, I did not mean to startle you so," I heard Holmes's voice beside me, quiet with concern.

I took a shuddering breath and looked up at him, and when he saw my face his eyes darkened with worry. He sat on the step beside me and looked at me.

"Did I – did I wake you, Holmes?" I asked, wishing to heaven that my voice were not trembling so.

"It is of no consequence, my dear fellow – though you did frighten me rather when I heard your cries from downstairs. I only just got back a few hours ago," he said gently. I flushed with embarrassment, but he stopped my apology with an upraised hand.

So I said nothing more, just sitting there hugging my knees, staring down the steps without seeing anything, still shaking all over from what I had been witness to in that nightmare.

"Watson, I am sorry," I heard Holmes say with a sigh beside me.

"For what?"

"This has all been very much of a shock to you – I – I should not have pushed you to move back in here so quickly," he said, his eyes downcast, "I should have realized that it would be rather much for your nerves."

"You think - sleeping in my old room was the cause of the dream?" I asked, the idea not having occurred to me before.

"I think it likely, Watson – the same thing has happened to me since I moved back into the flat," he said, his voice quiet with empathy.

I shuddered – I had no desire whatsoever to try and imagine what Sherlock Holmes's nightmares consisted of. I breathed in a long, shaking breath and let it out slowly, feeling slightly better in the knowledge that I was not alone in what I was feeling right now.

"How did you stop the nightmares from happening, Holmes?"

"I didn't, Watson – tonight was the first night I have been without one," he said, glancing at me with a look that I did not quite understand.

I was puzzled – was he implying that his nightmares had stopped with the knowledge that I was once again back in my room upstairs, prepared as I had always been in the past to fight his demons if necessary?

His face was as always a mask of calmness, only his eyes betraying his sympathy and his concern over my unusual nighttime disturbance.

The clock struck half-past three below us.

"Are you going to go back to bed, Watson?" he asked.

"No!" My breath quickened involuntarily at the thought, and he nodded understandingly.

"Why don't we go for a walk, then?"

I stared at him, my amazement for the moment drowning out my other emotions.

"A walk? At this hour?"

"Yes, it will clear your head of those frightening visions – and I shall tell you what I have discovered from Gregson about this case of Eckerton's. Hop to it, Watson – into your clothes and let us be off."

I closed my mouth, which was gaping open, as he grasped my arm and pulled me to my feet, gently shoving me in the direction of my bedroom.

"But, Holmes!"

"Ten minutes, Watson!" he called, already on his way into his own room.

I stared after him – a stroll about London at three-thirty in the morning? Even for his irregular habits, that was unheard of!

But as I turned to re-enter my bedroom, my mouth turned upward in a small smile, the first shock of the horror of my dream dissipating somewhat at his behavior and the knowledge that his own nightmares had disappeared with my arrival in the house. Perhaps mine would cease as well soon.

But I realized with some ruefulness that Holmes had just inveigled me into taking a walk with him – the very thing that I had declined to do earlier in the evening!

I sighed and began to change into a warm set of clothes, for I could hear the wind outside. The rain appeared to have stopped, however, a fact for which I was grateful.

Ten minutes on the dot, I appeared outside Holmes's bedroom in the hall, still wondering why in the world I had agreed to this excursion. But I truly did not want to go back to sleep – not with that dreadful image still replaying in my mind's eye.

Holmes handed me my coat and hat without a word and we left the flat quietly so as to not awaken Mrs. Hudson. I turned my collar up against the wind and wished that my leg would cease that throbbing. Holmes stalked along the gaslit streets for several minutes in silence, and I was afraid to break into his thoughts.

I was surprised by the number of people that actually were up and about at four in the morning – early workers on their way to the docks, late revelers on their drunken ways back home, street lads looking for sleepy travelers to relieve them of their watches and so on – and the bracing air and unusual sights woke me up a little and banished some of that horrifying nightmare.

"You are, as always, Watson, the ideal companion," Holmes ventured at long last, throwing me a sideways glance, "that gift of silence is rather a unique one."

I said nothing, for some reason slightly uneasy in his company – I never had been before, why was it awkward now?

"At any rate, I saw Gregson just before he was about to leave for the evening. He was not overly thrilled that Eckerton had taken the case to me instead of leaving it in his not-so-capable hands."

I chuckled at that colossal understatement.

"He reluctantly gave me all the information about the Stewart girl's disappearance. And after three hours of searching all the crime reports for the last fortnight I found out something that is very highly suggestive, Watson."

I was trying to hide the fact that I was limping now – we had been out for nearly an hour and I was in considerable discomfort. My reply was slightly breathless, but my companion did not seem to notice.

"The Stewart woman was the third young lady who has been abducted in the last nine days, from a moving train direct from some port of call to London."

I started. "Three girls?"

"Three, Watson. Eckerton's fiancée was the third. That is highly suggestive of a connection."

"Indeed," I agreed breathlessly.

"The first recurring pattern, besides the fact that they were all young women, is the fact that all three trains were direct," my companion went on, "and the second point is that all three were abducted when en route to London, not going from it."

"You believe that is significant?"

"It is a fact to remember, at the very least. The first girl, Violet Harwicke, was on the train from Canterbury to London, and the second, a lady named Elizabeth Walsh, was on her way from Dover. I have been looking over the information Gregson had about the girls, and I do not think I can get any further data until I speak with the women's families."

"Have you – any theories?" I asked, attempting to disguise the fact that I was now very out of breath.

"I have six, actually, each of which is equally plausible at the present time. And none of them are very pleasant thoughts for the girls involved," he said, his voice sobering.

For a moment neither of us said anything, the chilling thought freezing our minds as well as the weather was doing to our bodies. Then so suddenly that it startled me, Holmes stopped and grasped my arm.

"Watson, why did you not tell me we were walking rather too fast?" he asked – he had heard the uneven sound of my steps upon the pavement.

"Because – you were explaining a theory, Holmes," I gasped, very much relieved now that I could catch my breath and take some weight off my leg.

"Well, for heaven's sake, you could have interrupted me! Did you think I would not care to know that you were in pain?"

I was startled by his defensive tone of voice – so unlike what I had remembered of him.

"No, it is not that, Holmes," I said hastily, "I – I just did not want to bother you, that's all."

"You will never bother me, Watson," he said, scowling blackly at me.

"I shall remind you of that – the next time you are irritated when I pester you about eating regular meals," I said, trying to ease the tension that had suddenly sprung up between us like an invisible wall.

I was very, very much relieved to see him laugh and then slip his arm through mine and turn our steps homeward.

I breathed a sigh of relief as the matter was left and sighed a little ruefully with the knowledge that we were not just going to be able to drop in where we left off three years ago. This was not going to be an easy path back to normalcy.


To be continued...thanks for reading!