Prompt #238. Falling (however you want to interpret or extrapolate from that, is up to you)


Cold. Crashing. Falling. Yes, I was falling. Falling after him. Falling with him. Falling instead of him. Falling. Just like I had so many times before.

"Watson, can you hear me?"

Water fell with me, small droplets mixing with larger ones, each lingering seconds longer than I needed to see every color of their rainbow. I fell slowly this time.

"Come to the settee. You need to lie down."

Slowly enough to look around. I could see him now. Below me, in the water. Above me, doing nothing. Beside me, utter scorn twisting his face. We both knew this was my fault. I had abandoned him. Deserted him. Murdered him just as assuredly as if I had pushed him over the edge. I deserved the scorn.

"It is the middle of the day. Why are you sleepwalking?"

I deserved more than scorn, though he would never voice as much. I had betrayed him. Falling.

"Watson!"

Rocks joined the spray, knocking into my knees as they accelerated past. The impacts hurt, but I deserved no less.

"Watson, listen to me. You are safe. You are dreaming. Wake up."

More rocks joined the fall. Bumping my face. Squeezing my arms. Nudging me back and forth. Some hurt. Some did not. None of it mattered.

Falling.

"You are in London. I have been home for nearly a fortnight. You stubbornly refuse to move back but agreed to take luncheon with me."

Holmes hit the water first. Scorn became an instant of pain, then stillness. He floated on the surface, wide eyes accusing me even in death. I would join him soon.

"We have spent the last two hours in the sitting room. Mrs. Hudson promised to make a pan of shortbread, and Lestrade mentioned wanting help with a case later. Can you hear me?"

More water surrounded me. Spray rose from the pool to mingle with the drops still falling. Rocks jostled me more and more.

"Wake up, Watson. We are safe."

I braced for impact as the bottom loomed. This would hurt. I knew it would hurt, but only for a moment. Would I be able to apologize to Holmes before eternity separated us?

"Whatever you see is not real. You are dreaming."

Maybe, but I pushed the thought aside as the fall's constant spray washed my vision in white. I bounced off a rock to fall face first towards the pool—

"Watson?"

And woke with a jolt, desperately grabbing for something, anything that would halt my fall. The rocks would hurt. I deserved to die, but I did not want to. Not like that.

"Watson, look at me."

Panic abruptly died. A familiar hand gripped my arm. I sat in a corner. Holmes knelt in front of me. My friend made no effort to disguise his concern.

"Are you awake?"

Yes. Maybe. A nod made the restraining grip become something closer to supportive, but I checked my surroundings. Where was I?

The sitting room. Holmes' sitting room, since I no longer lived here, and memory returned. A midday visit. Two hours of comfortable silence. A luncheon for which I had no appetite.

"Why are you sleepwalking in the middle of the day?"

Because I knew better than to sleep at night, at home. A moment's quiet had both negated my attempts to stay awake and sent me back to the falls, as usual. I knew that dream's many variations well by now.

Though I could not tell Holmes that. Rotating my arm persuaded him to let go.

"Watson?"

"Don't worry about it." He did not need to know how little I slept.

A twitched frown announced he had seen some of it anyway.

"What were you dreaming?"

"Don't worry about it," I said again. My cane remained near the fireplace, but I would not ask for help. Heavy concentration let me use the wall and the nearby table to reach my feet, and furniture substituted for my sleep-deprived balance until I reached the other armchair.

"That is not a valid answer."

It was the only answer he would receive. We did not need to discuss this. I had maybe a quarter of an hour before I would have to go back to my empty house, and I did not want to spend that time talking about me. I was here to see Holmes, to enjoy as much time with my friend as I could without overstaying my welcome.

Though I might have done so already. A strange element of worry leaked into his words.

"How much have you slept in the last week?"

This nap made barely eight hours scattered around the clock, but I studied him without saying as much. What about a sleepwalking episode would make him want me to leave? He had never minded them before.

"Watson?"

"I did not attack you, did I?"

"No." He finally moved to his armchair though his attention never left me. "I found you leaning against the corner. You stared through the wall until your knees buckled, then you stared through the floor. Even shaking you received no reaction."

Good. My war-related nightmares were more dangerous than any of the others, but even the falls could have made me react poorly to his presence. I would never forgive myself if my own selfish desire for a few hours' company rendered injury.

Except I still did not know why something suspiciously like fear threaded his words. He knew I sleepwalked on occasion. What made this one different?

"Are you going to answer my question?"

No more than he would answer mine, even if I could find a way to ask. Silence dragged for nearly a minute before he changed the topic.

"Mrs. Hudson put a pan of shortbread in the oven, and Lestrade will be by later. Stay for supper?"

For…supper? I made no answer, trying to decide if I had heard him correctly. That did not match wanting me to leave a few minutes earlier than planned, but why else would a sleepwalking episode scare him if not the potential danger?

And why would he want me to stay if Lestrade was coming? He did not need me to solve a case. He did not need me at all, as I well knew. Had he misspoken?

Probably, I decided, which meant "stay" should be "return for." That was better than leaving permanently.

A gesture prevented me from retrieving my cane. "I said 'stay for supper,'" he chided, leaning forward to let me see the sincerity behind his words. "Not 'leave and come back later.' The experiment I intend for this afternoon is quiet. You would be able to finish that book you started the other day."

Without interrupting, that promised. He wanted to complete his experiment, but my silent presence would not bother him. That might also let me catch an hour or two of sleep.

Not that I would say as much. I had not dared to plan more than a couple of hours for today's visit. Two visits made an unexpected gift.

"It's alright," I promised. "I can come back later."

A shake of his head still refuted my plan. "Why walk all the way to Kensington only to walk back?" he returned. "You already admitted to having no patients today."

I had, however indirectly. I would have to better watch what I said.

But if I stayed quiet and did not disrupt his experiment…

"You are sure?"

He waved the question away as if not worth the attention. "The extra warning will let Mrs. Hudson make that roast she bought yesterday."

I nearly agreed before his wording registered. While I enjoyed roast, he had never cared for it. As I no longer lived here, why would she have purchased one?

He pulled a face at my raised eyebrow. "Apparently, mentioning how many things I tried abroad made her think my tastes have changed. She refused to leave me alone until I promised to try some."

I feigned the smile that never reached my mouth. "How much of that 'mentioning' was boasting?"

Most of it, based on his scowl. Three years had evidently not taught him when to stop talking, but I saw no indication of duplicity. More than not wanting me to leave early, he wanted me to stay longer. Could I risk increasing my one- to two-hour visits to three or four hours?

Unlikely. I would watch him this afternoon before making my decision, however. Lestrade's case would tell me far more than a silent sitting room.

And the shortest cases averaged about four hours. I had not watched my friend solve one of his puzzles in far too long.


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