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I shifted in my bed till my war wounds stopped aching. I had taken an early night to soothe the protests my leg and shoulder gave me. I could faintly hear Holmes play a soft tune on his prized violin. A signal of victory.
We’d been running through the streets all day, chasing and eventually catching the burglar turned murderer. Holmes couldn’t stop smiling as he eyed the outside and explained his tricks. His skills never cease to amaze me. I made sure to give him enough compliments to hopefully last till another case were to come to us.
I shifted again and stared at the ceiling, the tune slowing to a stop before I heard Holmes sit his instrument down to take a drag from his pipe. Happiness still evident in the air around.
Holmes was infectious when it came to his smile. I could never see myself mad at him, even if he were to bring home the tabacoo brand I couldn’t stand the smell of.
I closed my eyes and warmed my wounds. Letting the warmth of 221 get familiar with my scars. We are home. We are safe.
I felt my eyes open, but everything was wrong. Instead of my bedroom, I was sat in a space similar to mine and Holmes. But something was off. The wallpaper wasn’t exactly the same. The fabric on Holmes chair looked much more well taken care of. A painting above the fireplace I’d never seen before.
The room changed. The rugs were suddenly very different. The wallpaper much darker. The chairs changed in hue. Before I could catalog what was happening the room changed again. Wallpaper black to yellow to red to brown. The rugs changed in size and shape. The chairs changing style. I heard the crash of something of glass on the ground and covered my ears.
I was stood in the middle of a white endless void. I tried to talk but nothing came out. My mind felt heavy.
I walked forward. My leg protesting silently. And out in the distance was… two men?
I hurried my way over till my body stopped listening to my inputs and stood still. I could only see the back of their forms. Dark. One tall another shorter. They stood in silence. Their heads facing forward, looking into the distance.
“Shame huh Watson?” One of the men spoke. His voice dark and without any emotion.
I tried to answer but my mouth only produced a tiny whisper. The other man answered his friend.
“It’s fine Holmes. The best is that you’re here with me, safe and sound.” The other hummed in agreement and took his arm.
That’s not me. And judging by the lighter hair on “Holmes” he wasn’t actually Holmes. I felt a cold wave send down my spine and I felt my own body start working again.
I took a careful step before running the opposite direction.
But my running came to a halt right as two other figures appeared in the distance. Just like the pair before, they addressed each other by my name and Holmes name. I sprinted away before two pairs appeared in my vision, facing me. Addressing each other by Christian names that weren’t theirs.
I turned around to see another unfamiliar pair walking towards me. Their eyes sending fear down into my core. I was frozen in place as these impostors surrounded me. Their gaze fixated on me.
I broke free from my paralysis, ready to shout and fight. But everything went cold and silent.
All the people were gone. And the only thing left in their wake was a strange box. A glass screen in the middle. A noise hummed as I looked curiously at it.
I watched as the box showed pictures of the pairs I had been surrounded by.
Their gaze looking into the others as they embraced.
I watched carefully as the pairs seemed to be pulled out from the other’s grasp. Their eyes watering. Crying out for help. Reaching out to cup the other before. Only the Holmes of the pair remained. Their eyes filled with sorrow. Some more emotional than others. Others on the brink of breakdown.
I watched them silently yell at me.
And then everything was loud. Their voices overlapping. Screaming. Begging. Guttural sounds of agony. Begging me to bring their other half back. I turned around as a new group of voices beckoned me to do the same. The same looking box showing of agony and pain but of Watsons.
I held my head in my hands. I closed my eyes as hard as I could. I tried to scream. The voices didn’t stop.
And then everything was silent.
I opened them to see a Holmes. Not mine. But one very similar. Like an actor.
“Please reunite me. Please make the public remember us as a pair.”
I got off from the floor and looked into his eyes. He shared similarities with my Holmes, but I’d rather it be the Holmes I know instead of this one.
He wasn’t as handsome.
He held my hand. Cold. And lead me out of the void. Uttering a simple request.
Bring me my Watson.
Woke up. My head spinning with pain. I could hear the voice linger in my ear.
I heard a faint sound of Holmes pacing around our shared space.
I got up and stared at the door leading out from my room.
I closed my eyes for a second and saw all the new faces of me staring back. I opened my eyes and sighed.
This was for them. Not for me…
I got up on my feet and walked away, opening the door and carefully sliding downstairs.
Or was it for me?
Whatever I was feeling before I’d had my dream had intensified as I peeked through the open door into the room. Holmes was laid back, his hands rubbing against one another as he stared in the fire.
I didn’t think I’d be so nervous about asking Holmes something like this. But now I was stood here thinking about a nightmare that was simply a nightmare and had only been a nightmare. Not an actual look into the future lives of whatever these Holmes and Watsons were up to.
But I did believe in one thing.
I really needed an embrace after that.
I walked in and Holmes looked up. His eyes meeting mine and I suddenly felt very awkward.
“I was wondering when you’d walk in here. You stood out there long enough to make me think I should go fetch you myself.” The pipe between his lips moved out and into the palm of his hand as he talked. I sat down in my own chair and let the heat of the fireplace warm me up and bring me back to reality.
“Sorry. I had a terrible dream.” I wasn’t lying. But was evident that something else was on my mind.
Holmes simply waved his hand for me to continue but I felt my vocal cords give out.
Had he always looked this good in his robe?
I sighed.
“Do you ever think about how others will see us in the future?” The impression I’d gotten from my dream was something about relaying our life to the public in some kind of future. I at least hoped it was that. Holmes took a drag from his pipe and let the question rise in his head.
“I had never thought of it. How come?” His eyes met mine and I felt blood rush to my face.
“I had a dream of us. Of us as lovers. And the world separating us only because there were no clear sign of us being… in love.” Holmes looked at me and I saw a small glimpse of hope in his eyes.
“You don’t find our situation fulfilling? Watson if that’s what you’re saying, you didn’t need to make a whole dream about it.” He smiled and I could feel his gaze land on my lips.
“I’ve seen how you draw me up as some machine made for crime. I’ve seen the looks you’ve given me. I’ve seen the look you give the letters at my door asking for my hand in marriage. I was wondering when you’d realise your drive for waking up in the morning is to look at me.”
I felt like I had been opened up by an external force. Prying my pages out and revealing my secrets. Taking them out and showing them off to the detective I had thought about long after the sun had set.
I simply nodded and asked the only thing I could think about.
“May I kiss you?”
He gave a sweet smile.
I rose from the chair and stood up on unsteady feet. Walking over to stand beside Holmes chair.
“I would love nothing more.”
I leaned down and pressed my lips softly to his cheek. Feeling his lips turn to a smile. I could faintly hear all the voices from my dream celebrate. Their voices filled with hope and glee.
“Does this make us lovers” He whispered softly. I simply looked into his eyes.
“There’s more to being lovers than kissing just once, may I show you?”
I gently moved to sit down in Holmes lap. His arm’s coiling around my waist pressing us into each other in a close embrace. My lips caressing his neck as long as I could before his lips caught mine.
That night, I could hear distant voices cheer and call one anothers name. Embracing and gently pull one another into soft unspoken silence of pure love.