Disclaimer: I do not own Meitantei Holmes/Sherlock Hound or the original Sherlock Holmes. They are the property of their respective creators.

Notes: I'm a new fan of the series, but a fanfic idea just wouldn't leave me alone after watching it all subbed and half dubbed (so far). To try to avoid confusion with Sherlock Holmes, I am keeping to having the detective as Sherlock Hound, just as he is in the dub.

This is a friendship fic, so no slash, just platonic relationships with a slight peppering of hints of Hound and Watson's crushes on Mrs. Hudson. They might be a bit OOC and for that, I do apologise, but I have tried my hardest. I am no medical expert and get squeamish so I did not describe anything concerning the wounds in great details.

I hope you enjoy this!

(Linebreaks hate me, so I will use SHJW.)

SHJW

It was the middle of the night, approximately one-thirty in the morning when the infamous detective and his associate returned to their residence of 221B Baker Street. They made sure to be as quiet as possible so as not to disturb Mrs. Marie Hudson who was surely asleep in her room.

Dr. John H. Watson was half-supporting his friend, Sherlock Hound, as they quietly made their way up the stairs. "Which room?" he whispered.

"The sitting room is best. I trust you have some of your medical kit in there?" Hound murmured in response. He grimaced as the pain of wounds he'd acquired on their latest case started flaring.

"Right, let's get those taken care of." He kept in perfect step with his partner as they turned, tiptoed cautiously through the hallway and into the sitting room.

SHJW

The room was lit-up and Hound sat on the green sofa. He was carefully shrugging off his coat, trying not to move his left arm too much.

Watson had found his suture kit and had placed it on the coffee table. He was then searching for some iodine to clean open wounds and bandages for any others. He was remarkably calm through it all, though his heart hadn't stopped racing.

The case they'd been on had been simpler than the usual, as Professor Moriarty was not the criminal responsible, but no less dangerous. If anything, it was far more dangerous seeing as they'd been assigned to track down a murderer. Three people had already lost their lives at his hands, but once Hound was hot on a lead, a whole family had been saved in the nick of time. Unfortunately, while helping escort the family out, the youngest child had tripped and cried out, getting the murderer's attention and he'd opened fire. One bullet was headed for Watson, but Hound had pushed him out of the way, taking the bullet instead. It had only grazed him, thankfully, but the shock of it had caused him to fall. It had happened on a flight of stairs so he'd tumbled down a few before coming to a stop. He was fortunate he had not broken his neck! Watson had wanted for Hound to go to the hospital for a more thorough examination, but Hound insisted he'd rather have the one doctor he trusted with his life to examine him. He was able to walk, his memory hadn't been affected, so it was likely the wounds weren't too severe.

Watson had gathered everything he needed and stepped over to the sofa. He could see the detective was having a little trouble with removing his vest and shirt that he often wore underneath. Wrapped around a bloody patch on his upper left arm was a handkerchief to help stem the bloodflow. "Need a hand, old boy?"

Hound looked up to him. He conceded defeat and nodded. "Much appreciated, my dear friend."

The doctor stepped forward and took the shoulders of the vest, carefully sliding them down. "You managed to unbutton this, at least."

"I'm rather surprised that it wasn't hard to remove my coat, yet these are a trifle more tedious."

"Well, no matter. You still need to be careful not to move too much right now."

"I take it you have experience with this?"

"Removing clothing from immobile patients, you mean?"

"Precisely."

He shrugged. "Well, we had a lot of patients to tend to in a similar manner in Afghanistan. Their wounds were far more severe. If it was impossible to remove them this way, then we had to cut them off."

"At least it doesn't have to happen like that here, hm? I'm quite fond of this outfit."

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I know that."

Hound noticed that while Watson had been trying to act casual about the whole situation, he had some anxiety shining in his eyes. He also noticed as his shirt was finally removed that the doctor was shaking slightly. He knew it wasn't due to cold, it wasn't a particularly cool night. Not to mention that being in a half-dressed state himself, he'd know it for sure.

In order to remove the shirt, Watson had had to remove the handkerchief. He only hoped he didn't cause Hound to lose more blood than he already had. "Right then, time to get started on this."

SHJW

The cleaning and application of iodine had been almost unbearable, but Hound just clenched his teeth, let out low sounds of dissatisfaction and endured it. He wished he had his pipe, but something told him that Watson would outright forbid him from having it, at least until his wounds had been seen to.

The doctor handed Hound a leather strip. "You'll need to bite down on this once I begin the suture. You thought that was painful..."

He accepted the strip and prepared to bite down. "No anaesthetic, Watson?"

"Unfortunately not. It's not something doctors just carry around." He kept an eye on his friend and waited until he'd ceased talking and was instead biting on the leather before he started. "Don't talk anymore, or you'll bite your tongue." He prepared the needle and thread and sighed. "I'm so sorry for this, my dear Hound."

SHJW

That had been an ordeal neither wanted to repeat. The wound had been stitched up, but it had been painful. It took a lot for Hound to not cry out in pain, and through it all, Watson could only repeat apologies. "At least that's been taken care of. Now, lie down so I can examine you."

"On my back? Or on my stomach?"

"Back, please. You can stand and walk fine, so I know your spine hasn't been damaged from that tumble you took down the stairs." He waited until his friend and current patient was lying down before gently applying pressure to anywhere Hound had remarked pain emanated from. He hummed in thought.

"I say, Watson, you may seem to be calm, but your paws are shaking. I can feel it. Are you quite alright, my friend?"

"Well...let's just say that it's a different experience tending to someone I share a bond of cameraderie with. I'm not able to be as detached."

"Detached? Hmm, I see."

"Quite. It's easier tending to the wounds or illness of someone you have a duty to care for but do not know on a personal level. It makes it a little easier to continue on if things should turn out for the worst."

He had a feeling the doctor was going to say as much. He wouldn't be surprised if a lot of the patients the doctor had tended to in Afghanistan hadn't made it, only able to return home in a casket. Not because he doubted his friend's abilities, but because even the greatest doctors couldn't save every life.

"I must admit, Hound, you gave me quite a fright tonight. I'm forever in your debt for saving me from that bullet, but in the end, you took it." He sighed. "It was fortunate it only grazed you. Another few inches and you..."

"All a part of the job, Watson, as I'm sure you're aware."

"Quite." He wrapped a bandage around Hound's right wrist. "Got a sprain there."

"I suspected as much."

"I am aware of just how hazardous our duty can be. Any case could be our last if we're not careful. I have never denied it for a minute, Hound. Still..." He let out a low sigh. "The fact that it almost became a reality tonight was a very harsh reminder of it all."

"Mm." His eyes fell closed.

"I must ask you how you are. I don't mean physically."

He opened his right eye and regarded his friend. He could see his eyes filled with concern. "You mean about the murder that occured before I had pieced together all of the evidence."

"Yes. I don't mean to pry, but as a doctor I must make certain you are of sound body and mind." He smiled slightly. "And as your friend, I want to help you."

"It is yet another occurence that you must be aware of for our duty. It is truly unfortunate that it happened before I could find him, but it has." Both eyes were open. He'd turned his head slightly so he could look into his friend's eyes. "I, too, have learned it is better to be detached from those I must assist. It makes it easier to cope after something like that occurs."

Watson had noticed that Hound wasn't always detached from clients. If anything, his kind heart sometimes got in the way and he came to care for them, sometimes greatly. It was fortunate for the detective then that he hadn't previously known the victims of the murders.

"Even though everything that has happened is to be expected, I still feel I should apologise." His gaze softened as he smiled tenderly. "I'm sorry for causing you such concern, and I thank you for helping tend to my injuries following."

"Well, you're my best friend, so of course I shall." He slipped off the detective's shoes and felt his feet and ankles. "Hmm, a bit of bruising on the shin there. It won't require a bandage, but take care with it." He checked the left ankle and noticed it was a little swollen. "You must've twisted it when you fell." He applied a bandage and moved up again. "Now then, I need to see if you've cracked any ribs."

"Please do."

He proceeded to gently examine his friend's upper torso, pressing into his sides and along his chest. "Hmm, not bad. How does it feel when I apply pressure?"

"Not too painful, just the standard pressure."

"Good. Again, it may be bruised so take it easy. It may still hurt a little but isn't anything too concerning."

SHJW

The examination was over. "Right, so you have a graze from a bullet, a sprained wrist, a twisted ankle and lots of bruising. Considering how things could've turned out, you've surely got the devil's luck."

He chuckled. "Not that I believe in such balderdash."

"Me neither."

"I do believe something though."

"Oh?"

"That it's a good thing I have such a good doctor as my best friend."

He blinked twice before clearing his throat, willing away the heat in his cheeks lest it show through his fur. "Glad I could help you, Hound. Now then, you may as well stay here since you should try to keep off that ankle for a few days. I'll get a cane for you to use for support in the meantime, but for now, we should both get some rest." He picked up the blanket lying on the floor and threw it over the detective. "I'll stay in here too tonight." He then stepped over to the table, turned on a portable lantern then made his way to the light switch.

"Hm?"

"In case you need anything." He let out a yawn, found another blanket and carried it to the chair nearby. "The flame in the lantern should die out soon, but just so we don't have two patients, I'm going to leave the light on."

"Quite alright." Hound closed his eyes. "The light doesn't bother me. Good night, Watson."

"Night, Hound."

SHJW

It was a couple of hours later when Hound shot up in alarm, sweat covering his forehead and heavy breaths escaping him. He'd had a frightful dream, one that he hadn't had before. He started to calm down as he heard his friend snoring from the chair nearby and smiled wryly. Come now, Hound, that was just a dream. Watson is quite fine, you saw to it yourself. He knew what had happened that night was to be expected in their line of work. Still, he found the thought of his good friend being shot while on a mission to be more than unpleasant.

Watson gasped as his eyes flew open.

"Bad dream, old sport?"

"Hound? Did I wake you?"

"Not at all."

"I see. I guess everything that happened tonight had shaken me up more than I thought."

"Well, that makes two of us."

"I don't understand..."

"It's elementary, my dear Watson. We've both had a frightful dream of what could've been. Mine concerned you, so I presume without any arrogance that yours concerned myself?"

"Indeed. The bullet not only struck you in the heart, but the tumble you took down the stairs...even if you survived the gunshot, the fall broke your neck."

"I see. As for mine, I was too late in getting you out of the way of the bullet and it struck you in the back of the head."

"Goodness."

"Indeed."

"Something tells me neither of us will be sleeping well tonight."

"We may as well try. I know I can't do very much for a few days, but I will need to stimulate my mind somehow between cases, and I can't do that if I'm far too tired."

"Quite true, and I do need to be at my best to make sure your wounds are healing nicely."

"Well, let's try it anyway."

They both closed their eyes, hoping to return to slumber with no more unpleasant what ifs filling their minds.

SHJW

As the sun rose, Hound stirred. His sleep had been too deep to experience any further nightmares, which was a great relief to him. He carefully sat up, careful not to put too much pressure on either of his arms. He looked over to Watson, smiling slightly when he noticed he was still asleep. The smile faded as he noticed something else. "Hel-lo..." he muttered, his standard phrase whenever he'd noticed something strange or new, usually when he finds a clue for a case. The situation calling for it to be said though was not one of those times. He'd noticed a dark streak in the fur under both of the doctor's still-closed eyes. Either he woke from a nightmare or expressed emotion without waking. He examined his friend's position and came to the conclusion it was the latter. I won't pry into it though, he may not even remember it. Something he did know was that it wasn't just his physical wounds that would require time to heal.

Their cases had always had some level of risk, but it felt like the night before was the closest either had truly come to a brush with death since they'd become crime-solving partners. There was little doubt that they had been shaken from almost losing each other, one way or another, but they were both resilient canines, it wouldn't take long for them to come to terms with what had happened and how everything had turned out alright in the end.

The door opened and in stepped Mrs. Hudson. "I had a feeling you were both in here," she whispered, careful not to wake Watson. She regarded the bandages that were visible on Hound's arms. "Are you alright, Mr. Hound?"

He nodded, smiling tenderly with eyes full of affection for the blonde. "I shall be, thanks to Watson."

"What happened?"

"Watson was almost shot. I pushed him out of the way but the bullet grazed my arm instead. I then took a bit of a tumble down a couple of stairs."

"Oh, my!"

"The worst I acquired was the bullet graze, a sprained wrist, twisted ankle and some bruising. It's worth it though for Watson to have been able to come home."

"Sounds like it was quite the dangerous case. I'm glad you're both safe. Would you like some breakfast, Mr. Hound?"

"If I could, please. Watson should awake as soon as he smells it."

"Then, I shall get something for both of you. Would you like a clean shirt to wear?"

"Yes, thank you."

With a smile and a nod, the lovely housekeeper left the room.

Watson stirred and slowly opened his eyes. "Was that Mrs. Hudson I just heard?"

"Indeed it was, my friend. She's getting breakfast ready if you feel up for it?"

"I must say I am a bit hungry. We didn't get a chance to have supper last night, after all." He got to his feet and stretched. "I'll give you a quick examination." He approached the sofa and started his examination of the recovery progress.

SHJW

Mrs. Hudson returned to the sitting room, a clean, pressed shirt in her paws. "Good morning, Dr. Watson."

He turned to her and smiled fondly. "Good morning, Mrs. Hudson. I hope we didn't disturb you when we came in last night?"

"Not at all." She stood by the sofa. "Are you re-examining each wound?"

"Yes, just to make sure they're healing nicely and to ensure the bullet graze hasn't started to get infected. So far, everything seems fine."

She handed the shirt to Hound. "I made sure it was one that's easier to put on by yourself while taking care not to strain your wounds."

"I thank you, my dear Mrs. Hudson," Hound responded with a gracious smile as he accepted it in his right paw, his left currently unavailable.

"Breakfast should be ready in a short while." She turned and left the room.

Watson finished applying a clean bandage to the sutured wound. "There. You get your shirt on, then I'll help you over to the table."

SHJW

As they sat eating breakfast and reading the newspaper, Watson grinned. "You're in the headlines again, my dear Hound."

He removed his pipe from his mouth so it didn't fall out as his jaw started to drop. "That was quite fast, I'd only solved it last night."

"Well, considering this was a big case, I would not be surprised if they'd stopped the presses to put in this story. Hm? Heh, old Inspector Lestrade had a few words too."

"Oh? And what does our dear inspector have to say?" The pipe was back in his mouth and he puffed out a small cloud of smoke.

"Praise for Scotland Yard's finest officers, some thanks to you and some pride at having caught the criminal. I dare say that fiend shall be behind bars for years to come."

"I'd expect so, that is, if he doesn't hang from the gallows instead."

"Hmm, true. He was a serial killer having taken the lives of three innocent people. I feel deep sympathy for all of their families."

"The third victim was engaged to be wed next week. Her fiance was rather distraught and repeated that as he wept over her corpse."

He paused in sipping his coffee. "I see."

Though his face appeared stoic, there was sorrow shining in the detective's eyes. He hadn't been able to find and apprehend the criminal in time, so that loving couple hadn't been able to make their vows as they tied the knot in holy matrimony. Instead, the next time they'd be in a church would be for her funeral. "Quite a shame, really."

His gaze turned sympathetic as he lowered the newspaper and turned to his friend. "You did what you could, Hound, nobody can fault you for that."

"Nobody, except myself." He shook his head. "I won't let it eat at me, Watson. I just won't allow myself to forget about it either. It will remind me of exactly why I must find the criminals much sooner than later, so something like that won't happen again. You have a similar motivation, don't you?"

He nodded. "Every time I lost a patient, I wouldn't allow myself to forget them. It is never easy, but in return, lives are saved."

"I understand that. So, from now on, my friend, we must work harder so it never happens again. So instead of tears of grief for a loss, we witness tears of relief."

"Understood, Hound."

"Right then, is there a puzzle in your paper? I'm already feeling like I need to stimulate my mind lest it go stagnant."

He nodded, opened the paper to the page and showed it to him. "Shall this do?"

"Perfect. When I'm back on the sofa, I'll work on solving it."

Watson nodded once more with a smile and resumed having his breakfast. They would still need a few days to heal from the aftermath of their last case, but he knew that it wouldn't be long before he and Hound would be back in action, saving lives and stopping criminals from getting away with whatever their fiendish plans were. "By the way, what do you think Moriarty's up to?"

"He has been rather quiet lately. I suppose we shall just have to wait and see, but I would not be surprised if it's more of an attempt at stumping me."

Watson laughed heartily at that. "I doubt that could ever happen!"

Hound smiled at the subtle praise his friend offered. "Well, we'll find out."

SHJW

After-notes: Looks like you made it to the end! I hope it was to your liking? The part where I mentioned Hound sometimes caring greatly for clients or those he had to help, I had Polly in mind (she's the young former-pickpocket). Throughout the episode, I got a strong feeling of Papa Sherlock, especially when after he and Watson have rescued her from Moriarty near the end, when she hugs him, he hugs her back just as firmly with a wide smile on his face.

Thank you for reading! You don't have to leave a review, but if you do choose to say something, please don't flame.