Disclaimer: I dont own Holmes, Watson, Mrs Hudson or indeed 221B Baker Street! But i am having alot of fun borrowing them for a while !!
Authours Note : This story was orginally submitted to the brilliant new LJ Community Watson's Woes, please do go and take a look, there are some excellent stories there for all to read !! .com/watsons_woes/
The Break In
Dr Watson sighed as he sought a more comfortable position on the couch. He had had an exhausting day at his practice after an outbreak of influenza had seen many patients seeking his help. Coming back to Baker Street he had been near collapse and gave Mrs Hudson a fright when he slipped and fell to one knee as he tried to climb the seventeen steps to the shared lounge. Watson finally made it to the lounge where he sank back on the couch and closed his eyes shutting out the pain that now steadily throbbed in his shoulder and leg. He smiled as he remembered the conversation he had earlier with Mrs Hudson who had been concerned about him despite her scolding of him.
"Mr Holmes has been out all day and heaven knows what time he will be back, but Doctor if I may say so you will do yourself no good running yourself down like this" said Mrs Hudson as she watched Watson sit heavily onto the couch as she stoked the coal fire and put on a few more lumps of coal.
"I just need a few hours sleep Mrs Hudson, I'll be fine, thank you" replied Watson wearily.
"You are NOT fine Doctor; you need food and plenty of rest. I will bring your supper up shortly; Mr Holmes would never forgive me if I neglected you when you are clearly exhausted!"
Watson smiled and chuckled replying mischievously
"Ever thought about a career in medicine Mrs Hudson, you would make a very good nurse".
Mrs Hudson looked at Watson poker faced responding
"I have enough trouble looking after the worst tenants in London!"
Mrs Hudson did indeed bring up his supper and shortly afterwards announced that she was staying with a friend for the evening and would not be back until the morning. That had been several hours ago. Just as Watson felt the arms of morpheous begin to reclaim him again he was startled by a noise on the stairs. He lit a candle and looked at his pocket watch; it was nearly one hour after midnight.
Watson silently picked up the poker, knowing that whoever was coming up the stairs was not Holmes. Holmes would never creep up the stairs, and besides Watson would have been awoken by the bang of the front door being shut if Holmes had returned. Baker Street was witnessing a break in.
The thieves opened the lounge door and whispered amongst themselves. Watson turned up the gas surprising the thieves who stared in astonishment for a moment and then one of them whisked out a gun and fired.
Watson felt the burning pain of the bullet hit him as it entered his side, he let out a groan and collapsed, his legs giving way and the poker he had been holding dropped to the floor with a metallic clatter.
"Whatcha do that for Mikey? Now we'll get the rope for sure!"
Mikey looked at his partner in disgust and went over to the trembling form of Watson who was curled up in pain on the floor. He gripped Watson's hair and lifted his head up roughly and saw Watson grimace in pain.
"He ain't dead Jack, just bleeding, look"
Mikey kicked Watson in the stomach hard and Watson let out a cry as the fire within his body became an inferno. Watson however had no time to recover from the blow as he felt his hands being tied behind his back and his legs tightened securely as well. The pain in his side tormented him and Watson shut his eyes trying to block the pain. He tried to speak but to his distress he choked as a gag was placed in his mouth.
The thieves laughed mockingly as they saw Watson bound and gagged on the floor, shivering with pain and from blood loss as a small pool of blood began to trickle down from his side from where he had been shot. Confident that Watson was no longer a threat to them, Jack picked up the poker that had fallen to the floor and brought it crashing down on Watson.
The thieves looked round the room, helping themselves to items and packing away into their bag some china and a clock on the mantelpiece. They had been so immersed in their crime they failed to notice the figure standing in the doorway until it was too late.
"I suggest you stop what you are doing immediately and put the bag down-NOW"
The thieves turned round and for the first time saw a tall thin but commanding figure in the doorway. His face looked thunderous as he noticed the still form of Watson lying still on the floor.
"Watson!" shouted Holmes as he rushed towards his injured Boswell.
The thieves grabbed Holmes stopping him in his tracks. Holmes fury was suddenly unleashed as he saw that his closest friend was hurt and most probably in pain. There was a swirl of fisticuffs as Holmes fought the thieves, felling one in a knock out blow and chasing the other who had managed to run out of the lounge and onto the landing, Holmes caught him and delivered a crushing left hook. The thief staggered and fell back knocking his head on the banister of the stairs and fell to the floor. Holmes wasted no time on the thief and from his pocket produced a pair of derbies and snapped them on the wrist of the now unconcious thief. Holmes went back into the lounge and hurried to Watson's side.
The first sensation Watson felt as he opened his eyes was intense pain as he felt himself being lifted up and felt the gag being taken out of his mouth. Disorientated, confused and in pain, Watson tried to move away and cried out with the pain. Watson felt strong hands holding him tightly and a voice softly called out to him.
"It's aright t Watson, I have you, they will not hurt you again".
Watson fought past the swirling fog that pressed down on him and forced his eyes open to see the concerned face of his friend watching over him. Watson lifted his hand and weakly gripped Holmes wry arm.
"Holmes, I-" Watson was cut off by a sudden fit of coughing that only served to jar his injury further and he struggled to regain his breath.
Watson faintly heard the frantic cries of his friend calling out to him. Watson opened his eyes again to the blurry image of his friend who was shaking and looking considerably paler. Watson smiled weakly before sucming to the blackness that reclaimed him once more.
Holmes cried out as Watson lost consciousness in his arms. Gently gathering Watson up he lifted him and staggered down the stairs and out into the street. He saw a constable walking down the street who saw Holmes carrying Watson and hurried over to him. The constable took charge and blew his whistle for assistance. Two more policemen came and Holmes informed them of the break in and of the two thieves lying unconcuious inside the flat.
Confident that the constables would look after the flat, Holmes called a passing cab which stopped Holmes opened the door and gently placed Watson on the seat and sat next to him.
"Charing Cross Hospital Cabbie and hurry!" called out Holmes.
As the cab moved off and hurried down the busy streets, Holmes took off his long overcoat and gently placed it over the shivering form of his friend. He gripped Watson's cold hand and placed it in his.
"Hang on Watson, please, just for a little while more". Whispered Holmes.
Holmes buried his face in his hands, afraid of what the next few hours would bring for his badly hurt friend and Boswell. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to his friend and Boswell.
OOOH! Will Watson be alright? All will be revealed in Chapter Two !! :)
