"I've always imagined that I would die first," he says finally, his voice quiet yet rough, still looking at Watson. "Whether meeting my end at the hands of a suspect, or merely being in the wrong place at the wrong time...or succumbing at long last to my addiction. In my will I leave everything I own to Watson. She is my constant. My North Star, about which the entire sky rotates. Seeing her like this...forces me to imagine what it would be like if for all these years I was wrong, and it is she who will leave this life first. I do not wish to imagine a world without her and yet I am compelled to."
no subject
"I've always imagined that I would die first," he says finally, his voice quiet yet rough, still looking at Watson. "Whether meeting my end at the hands of a suspect, or merely being in the wrong place at the wrong time...or succumbing at long last to my addiction. In my will I leave everything I own to Watson. She is my constant. My North Star, about which the entire sky rotates. Seeing her like this...forces me to imagine what it would be like if for all these years I was wrong, and it is she who will leave this life first. I do not wish to imagine a world without her and yet I am compelled to."