A/N: Many thanks to KCS, who allowed me use of the premise of her 221B, "Back II".
The story itself is dedicated to a dear friend, with whom I have not spoken in far too long. Enjoy, estuncloche.
"Inspector, are you certain you're all right?" I asked, noting he was lacking his usual energy after our narrow escape.
"Yes," he said, through gritted teeth. As we passed under a street lamp, I saw he was clutching his side.
"You're hurt! That man with the knife- you said he'd missed you!" I exclaimed, turning him towards me under the light.
He squirmed a bit uncomfortably under my glare. The man wasn't used to such emotion from me, but I'd promised our ill Doctor that I would watch out for Lestrade. "Yes, well…"
"'Well,' what?" I moved his arm to get a better luck at his injury. He bit back a cry of pain as I felt for the cut. I blanched as I realized his whole side was drenched in blood.
Seeing my face, he reassured me, "Not all of it is mine, Mr. Holmes. I managed to use his weapon against him."
I sighed. "And why, pray tell, did you not alert me as to this development?"
"I didn't wish to distract you in the midst of your case." He squeezed his eyes shut, his breathing becoming increasingly shallow. "And I promised the Doctor I'd watch out for you. But anyhow, I think- I think I need to get to a doctor."
I was startled, both by his answer and his concession of wanting a doctor. Lestrade didn't particularly like physicians, Watson excluded, telling me more about his condition than the growing stain on his shirt. I quickly determined the best course of action.
"Come then, Lestrade." I made to support him. "We're under a block away from Baker Street. We'll seek medical attention there."
Cautiously accepting my arm, he questioned my choice. "But the Doctor isn't-"
"I know. We'll send for Anstruther. Shall we?"
"Lead on, Mr. Holmes."