Slightly melancholy, this one. :(
I've always wondered why Holmes blatantly ignores Watson's advice. That also caused the question to be raised about how our gentle Doctor felt about it.
He studied, and studied some more.
He stayed up all night reading medical journals as Holmes was off Heaven-knew where.
He snuck into classes, his heart in his mouth.
He volunteered under a pseudonym at a hospital on the far side of town.
He forced himself to read until his eyes became red and he couldn't tell how many fingers he was holding up.
He did it all out of fear of failure. He feared to fail, not himself, but Holmes.
He tried so desperately to never let him down.
So when he finally got the courage to talk to Holmes about his cocaine use, his heart nearly broke at the sarcastic tone. "I'm sure I'll be forgiven if I don't take your advice Watson. After all, you must admit you're not a doctor." His heart throbbed brokenly to the odd tempo of Holmes's chuckle, and he silently left to go upstairs, his leg jarring him painfully.
He told himself that his leg was the reason for his tears.