This is the prequel to conclusions. I just wanted to say thank you to my one reviewer! Your comments were so nice and very much appreciated; I hope you enjoy this one too! Obviously I do not own Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson
John Watson knew how ill he was. He was going to die there was no doubt about that, but he worried, not for himself, but for Holmes. He was not sure he was strong enough to cope with his death. They had always been close but never too close, Holmes had always held back, not that John begrudged him for it, it was just the way he was. Still. Now would be a good time to talk.
Holmes approached the hospital where his only friend lay dying and a chill came over him. He stopped and looked at the sombre building that could destroy his life. He approached his friend's bed and saw him sleeping, he almost turned back but felt he should say something, they had not seen each other for nearly six years. No-one's fault, they both just assumed there would be time. Slowly he approached and looked down on Watson's sleeping figure. How old he looked and how small. Holmes had never thought of Watson as vulnerable but seeing him there…it was too hard, he span on his heel and walked away.
Watson woke feeling more tired than when he had fallen asleep, he struggled to sit up and looked around. The ward was empty, silent as the grave. He shuddered as he thought that would very soon be his next destination. Why had Holmes not come? A case? No, he had stopped all that long ago. Maybe he didn't care, maybe he was ill? A thousand questions rushed in and out of John Watson's head quicker than it takes to read them. He sighed and sank back on his pillows. There was no-one else but Holmes, without him, he would certainly die alone.
Holmes was racked with guilt, he wandered around his Sussex farm unable to focus or fix on anything. He had to see Watson. Once more he approached the building with dread but this time his resolve held and he went in, fearful but determined. As he approached the ward he could hear Watson laughing and he almost felt hopeful. He didn't allow the feeling much time however, hope was a dangerous emotion; it built you up then watched and laughed as you fell. Holmes had never given much time to his emotions and now was no different. His eyes rested on Watson, he was talking to a pretty blonde nurse of about twenty and Holmes smiled, he always did have an eye for a beautiful woman.
Watson's eyes fixed on Holmes and the laugh caught in his throat. Emily turned to see what he was looking at and nearly fainted. It was him, the one they had been waiting for, she smiled as she knew now it would not be long, this is what he had been waiting for. She turned as she left them and a tear came to her eye as she saw the two men take each others hand and look deep into the other's eyes. The tear rolled slowly down her cheek as she watched this reunion because she knew it would be for the last time.