Brine
Apologies for not updating in forever! I should have more time once summer starts.
Water – on my skin, in my eyes, in my mouth. Something dark and heavy struck me, and I flailed out, trying to catch hold of it. It was long and sinewy, and my grasp slipped a little as the current tugged at it. It slid past, and my fingers clutched a human hand. I screamed, as I had not done even at Maiwand, and saw bubbles of air escape to the roiling surface. My lungs were burning.
In my horror I had let go, and now I could see nothing but a faint dark shape, rapidly vanishing. I swam after it, frantic now. I was drowning, but if I surfaced to breathe I would lose him. Holmes. Let it be Holmes and not Moriarty. Now that I was trying to swim I could feel the full force of Reichenbach's current. It spun me over and sideways and into branches and rocks. There was no time now to reach the surface. I screamed my friend's name uselessly, and my last breath of air left me. I curled my body into a ball and waited to die –
And woke, coughing and gasping in great draughts of air. I was in my own bed, tangled in the blankets, but my face was wet. A drop trickled into my mouth – not river-water. More like brine.