Spoilers for "Final Problem" and "Empty House." Triple drabble.
Written: 2-3-13
Absence
Three years are longer than some would think.
Holmes could not help a feeling of relief when Watson exultantly accepted his apparent revival, but noticed the adjusted blanket when he woke up, the fact that Watson had apparently not left the room the entire time he slept. Watson wasn't going to let him out of his sight.
Holmes found himself gripping his friend's wrist like a lifeline as they entered the empty house across from Baker Street. And if he sent a few furtive glances of his own his friend and comrade's direction, no one would notice in the dark.
It was only once they were back at Baker Street that Holmes fully realized the difficulty of their situation. After discussing the case, both fell into a brooding silence that left a pressure in Holmes's chest. Watson's wife was dead, but he had found a new life for himself at the Yard – would he even care to return beyond tonight's activities?
At last, Holmes broke the silence. "What do you plan to do?"
Watson met his gaze directly, the same steady gaze as before. "It will take time, Holmes. But whatever happens, do not expect I'll leave your side again."
Watson agreed to spend the night in his old quarters, bereft of his belongings but uncaring. Holmes somewhat apprehensively entered his own room, so unchanged he couldn't help a suspicious glance at the picture over the fireplace to reassure himself that the shrouds on the portrait of Reichenbach Falls were still there.
And if Watson's bed still looked unslept in while his chair held a betraying warmth, or Holmes's slippers were worn from catching unawares on a sliver of wood in the dark, or Mrs. Hudson's gaze betrayed a sleepless night, no one mentioned it.
At last, they were home.