Holmes wandered through New York City, vaguely heading towards a park, one thought on his mind. When the Titanic sank, John Watson had gone down with her. Holmes didn't have to be told; he knew. He knew Watson was dead in the same way he knew he would be if he were on the boat with him. Neither he nor Watson would ever use their fame to secure a lifeboat space for themselves ahead of a woman or a child, and Watson would not try to use his position as a doctor for a seat, either. No, even with the freezing water of the Atlantic growing near, Watson would have been calm, heroic, and perfectly brave and respectable.

He would have gone to the bowels of the ship if he had to in order to save someone if he'd needed to, and when the lifeboats were away he would have made rounds with the other passengers, urging them not to jump too soon, to put on their life jackets, to throw anything in the water that would float, to wait until the water was nearer and then swim straight out away from the ship. He would have bolstered their courage with a well-placed word and inspired them to believe in something greater than themselves, made them think that the world was yet beautiful.

Holmes knew that's what would happen because he'd seen Watson do it before. They'd been on several ships together in the past, and once, at the conclusion of a dangerous case, they had sunk. That had been one of the few times times in his life his nerves had nearly failed him and he almost given into panic. No amount of logic can solve the mystery of a ship with a hold in her side, and the art of deduction meant nothing when he would soon be dead. Thankfully, Watson slapped him out of that frame of mind quite literally and so hadn't given into panic, encouraged by Watson's courage. Most all aboard as well as he and Watson had survived that horrible wreck, but the water hadn't been frigid and rescue had been close. By all accounts, the Titanic hadn't been so lucky, and the ship that had come for her, the Carpathia, reported over a thousand souls were still missing. Homes was sure Watson was among them.

It would have been exactly like Holmes remembered. Watson would have acted valiantly. Then, the ship would have been gone and Watson's old war wounds would have seized up and made it impossible for him to swim for more than a few minutes. Except this time, he wouldn't have Holmes there to bully him onto a piece of debris. This time, Watson would try and drag someone else to a table or chair order he'd find floating in the water, hoping against hope he could save just one more life in the time he had left. And then, cold and alone and paralyzed by pain, Watson would die.

There would have been plenty of death last night, Watson may as well have been among them, Holmes mused. He stopped on a bridge and peered into the water. There would have been worse deaths than Watson's. There would have been easier deaths. Some men would have been braver than Watson, some would have died cowards. In the end, it only mattered to the living, and the water had claimed the rest without discrimination.

He took the newspaper from his pocket. It was suddenly heavy, and he let the inside contents flutter away into the water until only the front page and headline remained. Reaching into his other pocket, he found the tickets for their concert, three days hence on the evening of the eighteenth, and for their train.

"Ashes to ashes," he murmured as he gently folded them inside the paper. He removed his tie pin and stabbed the bundle through. "Dust to dust." the brilliant green emerald glinted in the light. Such a heavy little stone. Such a heavy little bundle of papers. It occurred to him vaguely that he may have kept it once. Even yesterday, the emerald pin was the pride of his museum. How silly of him, keeping mementos as if they meant anything in the face of eternity.

He dropped the little brick, watched it carried along the river, slowly but surely to sink. Homes tore his eyes away from it, not liking the strange feeling in his chest as he watched it float away.

"For dust you are," he whispered, "and to dust you will return." He turned away from the bridge, but the feeling in his chest remained. He watched sunlight filtering through the needles of great pines as if he was secluded in the country and not in the arms of the busiest city in the world. "Behold, I am the Alpha and the Omega. See, I am making everything new." Holmes wasn't exactly sure if that whisper had come from himself or for the wind.

He had a distinct feeling, however, that it had come from someone far greater than himself or the wind. His wandering footsteps took him to an old wooden bench with a good view of the sky where he sat and smoked, watching the busy city move around him as wispy clouds moved above him. He tilted his head back, listening as far off someone was playing the violin. His chest lightened, and he was at peace.

Author's Note: As I edit this, on the morning on April 15, 2021, 109 years ago the survivors of the Titanic would have been boarding the Carpathia. She arrived shortly after 4 in the morning and the last survivor, Charles Lightoller, the second officer on the Titanic, boarded around 8:30. She looked for persons still living in the water, but none were found.

Thank you to the kind guest who reviewed the first chapter.

Historical Clarifications:

The Carpathia, the ship who picked up Titanic's survivors, ignored messages from the press. Wild rumors flew throughout New York City, and all that was known was that the Titanic was gone and only a few hundred survived.

Sadly, the Carpathia was sunk six years later by a war-time torpedo, but she will always be known as the ship who maneuvered through dangerous waters in the early morning to affect a rescue of Titanic's survivors. In fact, she should not have been able to go as fast as she did, nor arrive as early, especially considering the dangerous water she was going through to reach the site of the wreck. When asked, her captain, Arthur Roston, who almost never granted interviews about the Titanic, said, "A hand other than mine was on the wheel that night."