Disclaimer: I do not own Meitantei Holmes/Sherlock Hound, nor do I own the original Sherlock Holmes series, or characters. They are the property of their respective owners. I do own Charles and the medical staff.

Notes: Yet another angst fic from me, what is it with these this year? Anyway, this one is slightly different as I shall explain in the warnings. How did I come up with this one? Well, after watching this series, the Granada adaptation of Sherlock Holmes and reading fanfics about Holmes and Watson (not many for this series exists), it was entirely plausible for me to have dreams that lead to new fanfics.

Warnings time! This one actually does have a pairing in it! The pairing is Hound x Watson, though I think the proper term would be Johnlock. There's no further than passionate smooching in this version (the other version not being uploaded here contains lemon). Also, OC death, mentions of blood and wounds. Potentially OOC but I've tried keeping them in character. Thing is, when it comes to almost losing Watson, Holmes does become quite emotional, so it more than likely would apply to their canine counterparts. Mrs. Hudson is kindly and open-minded (remember how she responded to Moriarty and his men abducting her?) so she's okay with what's going on.

I hope you enjoy this!

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

SHJW

It wasn't supposed to end that way. They were supposed to find the criminal, have them apprehended and then return to their home in Baker Street for a nice, warm supper prepared by their housekeeper.

Instead, things went horribly wrong, and so it was that Sherlock Hound was seated beside the bedside of an unconscious Dr. John H. Watson, holding his paw with a fierce grip and murmuring to himself.

The scene repeated over and over in his mind, it seemed it may never depart from his memories.

"The place is surrounded, Charles, just come along quietly," Hound had declared in a bold voice. He knew his words were not a bluff, as he'd planned for Inspector Lestrade and the officers of Scotland Yard to block all potential exits.

Charles snarled, his lips curling to bare yellowed teeth. "I ain't done in yet!" he roared as he whipped out his pistol.

Watson was right by Hound's side. Instinct forced him to bring out his own revolver. "Drop your weapon, Charles," he ordered in a firm voice. His finger rested on the trigger.

Hound was prepared to make a move when there was an opening. He kept his gaze on Charles, waiting for him to drop his guard for a split second.

Charles' snarl became a sly grin. "You know, Hound, I gotta wonder...who is the one with the fastest trigger-finger, hm?"

Hound clenched his teeth and tensed, though otherwise did not show any signs of Charles' words getting under his skin.

He took aim. "Let's find out." At that, he pulled the trigger. Almost immediately after, he collapsed to the ground, blood pooling around him.

Hound didn't feel any pain and was certain Charles had missed. A quiet grunt from beside him claimed otherwise. It was as if time had slowed down as he turned and saw Watson, his paw clasping his stomach. "Wat...son?" There was no mistaking the blood escaping through the doctor's fingers.

Watson chuckled before his legs gave out from under him. "Looks like...another..." Before he could finish, his eyes fluttered closed and he flopped to the floor.

Hound's eyes widened, his pipe dropping from his mouth as he hurried to his best friend's aid. "Watson! Wake up!"

Inspector Lestrade burst into the room. "I heard a couple of gunshots, what happened?!" He quickly got his answer when he saw Charles lying dead on the ground and Hound trying to wake Watson. "How's the doctor?"

Hound looked up. His composure was slipping. "Inspector, we must get him to the hospital immediately, he's losing too much blood!" His tone wasn't urgent, it bordered on hysterical.

"Right, let's go!" He hurried outside to order for a police wagon to meet them at the entrance.

"Don't you die on me, John Hamish Watson..." Hound scooped up the doctor carefully and hurriedly made his way to the exit. "Hold on, old boy..."

The bullet had been removed and thankfully, there were no early signs of infection. But, Watson had not yet awoken and it was still far too soon to know what the outcome would be. Hound had sent a telegram to Mrs. Marie Hudson, alerting her of the situation and that it might be a while before he returned home. He wanted to stay by Watson.

Doctors and nurses had flittered in and out of the room, ensuring Watson was comfortable and observing his vitals, informing Hound of any particular times he must call for them without hesitation.

Hound's forehead rested against their paws, eyes squeezed shut. He was not a religious man; if anything, with there being no proof of a God outside of a book penned by mankind, he refused to believe. But, for maybe the first time in his life, he hoped there was a God up there, someone he could ask to please spare his dear Watson.

If it hadn't been confirmed that Watson's shot at Charles had, indeed, been fatal, Hound would've stormed right to Scotland Yard, insisted on seeing him and then killed him with his own, bare paws. There was no doubt that anybody who dared hurt the few he cared so deeply about would invoke his wrath. Alas, revenge wasn't possible.

Instead, all he could do was sit there, pleading to whoever was listening that Watson would pull through. "It should've been me, not you..." he whispered furiously.

SHJW

A nurse entered the room, a slip of paper in her paws. "Mr. Sherlock Hound, I have a telegram for you," she voiced gently.

He broke from his vigil long enough to turn to her, smiling graciously as he accepted it and watched her leave again. He saw the telegram was from Mrs. Hudson. He couldn't help but smile tenderly as he read her words of hope that Watson would recover as soon as possible, and reassurance that she understood why he wished to stay with Watson at that time. Her message ended with her saying she would stop by the hospital within the hour to bring Hound some fresh clothes for himself and Watson (for when he could be discharged) and a warm, comforting meal. He pocketed the telegram, took Watson's paw into his two and rested his forehead against them again. If Mrs. Hudson had hope that all would be well, then he had to as well.

SHJW

There was a knock on the door and Mrs. Hudson entered the room, closing the door after herself. She frowned in concern at seeing Watson unconscious and Hound gripping his paw. "Mr. Hound, I am certain that Dr. Watson will be alright," she whispered as she approached the seat.

He looked up and regarded her. He noted the concern in her green eyes and forced himself to smile for her sake. "I received your telegram, Mrs. Hudson. You're quite right, we shouldn't lose hope."

"I brought some fresh clothes as I said I would. I hope you don't mind my assumption that you will be staying here for a while."

"Not at all. Rather, I appreciate it." His gaze shifted to Watson. "I would really prefer not to leave him at this time."

"I understand, Mr. Hound." She handed him the suitcase that contained some clean clothes for himself and a spare outfit for Watson. She then offered him a paper bag. "I realised the food would not stay warm between home and here, so I prepared some sandwiches instead. I thought some home-cooking might bring you some comfort at this time."

"I greatly appreciate your kindness, my dear Mrs. Hudson." His smile became a bit more melancholy. "If Watson was awake, I am certain he would express likewise."

"Until the day both of you can leave, I'll return every day with more home-cooking when I pay a visit. But, Mr. Hound, would the staff allow you to stay?"

"They'd have to throw me out to get me to leave here."

She noted the sharp glint in his eyes, his sad smile becoming a frown. "I fear I may have overstepped a boundary by asking that."

"Never, Mrs. Hudson! I apologise for my shift in mood, it's just...it shouldn't have been Watson."

She nodded in sympathy. "I understand." She'd lived with the pair long enough to know just how strong their bond was. It reminded her of herself and her late husband Jim. "Would you like to be left alone for now?"

He shook his head. "I know you care about him too, it would be heartless of me to ask you to leave when you're also concerned." He turned back to Watson. "I may not make the best company though."

"It's quite alright, Mr. Hound. Oh, I just remembered. Inspector Lestrade sent a telegram that arrived a minute before I left the house." She brought it out and handed it to him.

He accepted it with words of thanks and scanned the text. "It seems that since He was headed for the gallows anyway, Watson will not be charged with His accidental manslaughter, considering it was in self-defence and the response to being shot while his own finger was on the trigger. It finishes with well-wishes for Watson on behalf of all of Scotland Yard and understanding that I won't be taking any cases at this time." He handed it back to Mrs. Hudson.

"They really considered charging Dr. Watson?"

"I had overheard it being discussed on the way here. They tried to keep their voices down, but I'm afraid they were still loud enough for me to hear."

"Did you have to give a statement?"

"It was done in a private room while Watson was in surgery."

"I see."

He sighed before resuming his earlier position.

"I won't force you to do anything, but I ask that you please remember to eat and rest. If you were to fall ill during your vigil, I am certain it wouldn't please Dr. Watson in the least."

He chuckled quietly. "Quite so. Our dear Watson would be quite annoyed indeed." Another sigh. "Terribly sorry, Mrs. Hudson. I am afraid that from this point, I really will not be pleasant company to keep."

"We don't have to converse, just sit here together."

He nodded quietly.

"There is one more thing I'd like to ask of you before our conversation comes to an end."

"What is that?"

"Please don't force yourself to smile. If you want to be angry, then be angry. If you want to cry, then cry. If you want to do that in private, let me know and I'll give you some space."

"I shall heed those words. Thank you."

"The way you are with Dr. Watson is very similar to how I was with Jim. I can understand what it is that you're feeling right now."

"Were we that obvious?"

"No. I've lived with you long enough to notice it."

"...I see."

At that, the pair lapsed into silence.

SHJW

"I shall return tomorrow, Mr. Hound. Please remember to get some rest," Mrs. Hudson whispered before bending down and giving him a gentle kiss on his temple. She did the same for Watson. "Goodbye for now."

"I shall see you tomorrow, Mrs. Hudson. In the meantime, if there are any changes to Jo-Watson's condition, I shall let you know."

"Thank you, Mr. Hound." With a last goodbye, she left the room, closing the door after herself.

"There are many who want for your recovery to be swift, John," Hound whispered. It was far too familiar of him to use his friend's first name when addressing him, but he knew they were alone in the room. "Mrs. Hudson has you in her thoughts. All of Scotland Yard are hoping you'll be well in no time. As for myself..." He squeezed his eyes shut as they started burning. He pressed his lips to Watson's knuckles in a silent kiss before returning to his earlier position. "I can't go on without you. I can't lose you. Both you and Mrs. Hudson helped me open my heart to others, I can't lose either of you. Please, John, I am begging that you not leave me..."

The room was deathly silent. Shallow breathing sounded from the individual in the bed. Hitched yet quiet breaths sounded from the occupant of the seat at his side.

"Please...John..."

SHJW

The night grew late and cold. One unfortunate doctor tried to get Hound to leave and was growled at in return. The nurse accompanying him had noticed the continual vigil since Watson had been admitted and took pity on the pair. She asked the doctor if it would be fine for Hound to stay, as long as he got a good night's rest. The doctor had sighed in resignation and agreed. After all, Hound and Watson had once solved a case for him, it was the least he could do.

Hound hadn't noticed the nurse draping a blanket over his shoulders before she lit the lamp in the room and set it to a low light. But, the warmth was helping with personal physical comfort. He'd managed to eat the sandwiches Mrs. Hudson had brought for him but still refused to leave Watson's side unless absolutely necessary. As the hours grew later, he found he couldn't fight off sleep any longer. His eyes fluttered closed and he dozed, still in that same position.

SHJW

The next morning arrived and Hound was awoken by urgent voices. "What's happening?" he asked a nurse as she moved to his side. "Is something wrong with Jo-Watson?"

She took pity on him and spoke in a tender voice as she asked him to please leave the room as they needed room to work. She didn't make him leave without any information.

He kind of wished she had. When a doctor had come in to check on Watson's condition, he'd noticed he was burning up and had an erratic heartbeat. So, Hound stood outside the room, silently pleading they save Watson. He broke from his thoughts long enough to remember his promise to Mrs. Hudson and hurried to have an urgent telegram sent to her.

SHJW

Not half an hour later, the golden retriever was right by the detective's side and holding his arm. "Please don't fret, Mr. Hound, I am certain Dr. Watson will be alright," she whispered. Hope was needed right then, she had to make sure she could give some to the silently devastated man.

He turned to face her and took her paws in his. "It was so sudden. I didn't even notice and I was there with him all night. All night, Mrs. Hudson! I was asleep by his side and yet I failed to notice when something had gone wrong."

She pulled her paws out of his and did something that would be considered quite forward if they weren't dear friends. She embraced him, one paw on the back of his head gently lowering it to her shoulder. Her other paw was rubbing his back tenderly.

He gripped her firmly, knees bent so he could be at the right level. He didn't cry, but he was shaking. He could not bear the thought of losing his Watson. "I...I just can't lose him!" he whispered fiercely.

A doctor emerged from the room and saw the pair. "He's stable now. His wound had developed an infection but it wasn't too severe so we were able to treat it in time."

Hound and Mrs. Hudson turned to him, relief shining in their eyes.

"I am afraid he is still unconscious at the moment, but if all goes well, he just may wake up tonight."

"May we see J-Watson?" Hound asked.

"Of course, Mr. Hound. We've done what we must so you may return to his side."

"Thank you." He released Mrs. Hudson from his embrace, feeling her release him from hers, and took hold of her paw for a bit of physical support for both of them as they entered the room.

SHJW

Mrs. Hudson didn't stay very long as there was much she had to do, but promised to return later in the day. While she was by Watson's bedside keeping vigil, Hound had taken the opportunity to change into fresh clothes.

"You gave us quite a scare, John," Hound whispered, his tone a mix of relief and exasperation. "You're always the one lecturing me about close calls. Heh. I think that if you were awake right now, you'd be pouting at my turning the tables on you." He sighed. "But, you're not, are you? Hopefully, you will be. Mrs. Hudson will come back this afternoon, will you be awake to greet her then? It would surely be a pleasant surprise for her if you were." The only response was steady, yet shallow, breathing coming from the Scottish terrier. "It would also bring me great relief to look upon you with open eyes and a smile on your face, even if your bushy moustache were to hide it." He perked his ears up and listened carefully for any approaching footfalls. He heard none, so he rose to his feet, bent over his slumbering companion and pressed his nose to his. "We can share a proper one when you wake up," he murmured before returning to his seat. "So, now you have another incentive...so, please pull through, John..."

SHJW

As promised, Mrs. Hudson had returned that afternoon with more sandwiches and a slice of cake for Hound to eat. They were both silent, her paw resting on Hound's shoulder as he returned to his earlier position.

A quiet grunt sounded.

Mrs. Hudson lifted her head and gazed at the occupant of the bed. "Dr. Watson...?"

Another grunt.

Hound felt the fingers of the paw he held start to twitch. He sat upright. "John..." As his hopes rose, he forgot himself in how he addressed the other in company. Thankfully, it had only happened around Mrs. Hudson, someone who supported them.

His eyes fluttered open. "Did...we get...him...?"

Mrs. Hudson clasped her paws to her mouth as she let out a loud gasp. Tears of relief pooled in her green eyes.

Hound felt tears in his eyes too. His prayers had been answered. He didn't let go of Watson's paw as he shakily whispered, "you got him".

"I'll get a doctor!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed, dashing out of the room.

"Sherlock...why are you crying, my friend?"

"My dear John..." He couldn't say more, so overcome with relief as he was that his voice escaped him.

Mrs. Hudson returned with the doctor who proceeded to give Watson a check-up.

SHJW

Watson was in the clear, though he still couldn't be discharged from the hospital yet. "So, I was shot?" Watson asked, his voice a little less hoarse thanks to him having a glass of water.

"In return, that criminal received your bullet between the eyes. He died instantly. Inspector Lestrade has already said you won't be charged for manslaughter upon reviewing my statement," Hound informed.

"I see. Well, that's another scar to add to my collection."

"This morning, you weren't doing well."

"What do you mean?"

"Infection set in, but it was taken care of before it could become more severe. Nevertheless, it was enough to give you a fever and had upset your heart rate."

"I see." He turned to Mrs. Hudson. "Such a shame, my dear, I can't enjoy your home-cooking just yet."

She giggled. "We'll make up for that when you are able to."

"Mmm, I can hardly wait!"

Hound's laughter mingled with Mrs. Hudson's. It sounded like Watson was returning to his old self.

SHJW

Hound still refused to leave Watson's side, so Mrs. Hudson had left the hospital on her own. It was just the two of them in the room, both wondering how to say what they needed to.

"Were you hurt?" Watson asked.

"No. Thanks to you, I was spared from a second shot."

"Words can't express how relieved I am to hear that, my dear Sherlock."

"John... I felt like I was going to die when I saw you were the recipient of his bullet. We rushed you here as fast as possible, and the whole time, I was just hoping I would soon wake from a nightmare. After you were released from surgery, I was adamant in my refusal to leave your side. I'm not a religious man, but I prayed for you to recover."

"I know."

"How could you know, my dearest John?"

"Because I am sure I could hear you."

He bowed his head. "I don't quite understand, but I believe you."

"Sherlock..." He reached his paw to his and gripped it. "I felt you beside me all this time. I felt your grip, similar to this, I felt your kiss."

He lifted his head slightly to return his gaze to Watson. "What happened to you shouldn't have happened at all. I was careless. I should've stopped him before he had a chance to fire."

"If you had made a move right then, you would've been the one to receive the bullet."

"It should've been me."

He frowned. "That couldn't be farther from the truth!" He lowered his voice. "My Sherlock, know that I wouldn't have felt like dying if that bullet pierced you, I would've died right then and there. I'm glad it was me."

"John..."

"Though, at the same time, I wish he'd missed completely. No wound is worth your tears." He reached his other paw up and rested it on Hound's cheek.

He hadn't even noticed he'd started to silently shed them until Watson had pointed them out. "You, my dear John, are worth more than all the tears I can shed."

"Come here, Sherlock, I can't move quite yet."

He rose to his feet and bent over his Watson. "John?"

He leaned up and pressed his nose to Hound's. "Nobody's coming, are they?"

He perked his ears and listened very carefully. "We're safe," he whispered before leaning in closer, his lips touching those of the doctor he so loved.

Watson's eyes closed. The taste was a little salty, but at least it could still happen.

He pulled back and returned to his seat. "Someone's coming." He hurriedly scrubbed at his eyes.

He nodded and rested his head against the pillow. "Probably for another check-up."

SHJW

Hound was still able to stay that night. When all was quiet and still in the building, the pair shared a few more kisses. "I'm glad we can still do this," Watson whispered.

"Indeed," Hound murmured. He couldn't embrace him yet, so he held his paws tenderly as he moved in for another kiss. The feelings of the events of the past two days were put into it as he deepened it.

Watson not only felt Hound's love, he could feel his fear of almost losing him, the relief at him being alive, the passion he puts into every single kiss they share and more.

"John...we should stop soon."

"Mm. It's alright, Sherlock."

"We'll have to be cautious not to get caught." Yet, he couldn't stop kissing his Watson.

SHJW

After a couple more days, Watson was permitted discharge from the hospital. He still had to take it easy for another couple of weeks, but he was quite fine with that. He could be home with Hound and Mrs. Hudson again.

SHJW

After-notes: So, that's where this version ends. I may or may not upload the lemon version to another site, I am undecided. Anyway, I do hope you enjoyed this. Mrs. Hudson may not have been in the story a lot, but I feel her role in this was still important as the support Hound needed; someone to remind him he's not alone and to never give up hope. Hound only addresses Watson by his first name in private, as first-name basis was considered far too familiar and intimate in those times.

Thanks for reading! You don't have to review, but if you do choose to say something, I only ask you please do not flame this. Constructive criticism is perfectly fine and welcomed.