A Police constable standing nearby, helped summon a cab for me and lift Holmes inside. I jumped in the hansom cab and we were off in the direction of Baker Street. It wasn't long before doubts started forming in my head. Maybe I should be taking him to the hospital instead, he was my best friend and if something happened to him whilst under my care I doubted very much that I should be able to live with myself.
" No Watson, no hospital please." The voice from beside me grunted, as though he could read my mind. Nothing ever got by Holmes.
" Don't worry Holmes we're going straight to Baker Street." He nodded his head weakly before leaning against my shoulder.
The cab soon arrived at its destination, although it had felt like it had taken hours. I quickly paid the driver before leaping out of the cab holding Holmes. It was raining and the thick fog that resided in Baker Street soon engulfed us. I hurried up to the front door as fast as one can when they are supporting someone else's weight, and knocked urgently on the door.
Within a few seconds it was opened by the long suffering Mrs. Hudson.
"Oh Hello Doctor..." She broke off her sentence as soon as she saw that I was holding the body of her famous tenant.
" Goodness gracious, quick bring him inside, I'll go and fetch some warm water and towels." She said hurrying off in to the kitchen.
"Thank you Mrs. Hudson." I called after her.
Getting Holmes up the seventeen stairs to 221b took quite a bit of effort and time but finally I succeeded. Ignoring the pain in my shoulder I managed to carry Holmes in to his room and place him gently down upon the clean bed sheets. I quickly undid the blood stained jacket and dress shirt, and removed it from his body. Poor Holmes was freezing so I draped a blanket over his torso and began to take a closer look at the bullet wound in his shoulder. Although it had caused him to lose a lot of blood, the wound itself was not to severe, however the bullet was still lodged in his shoulder and it was necessary that it be removed as soon as possible.
I ran and grabbed my medical bag from the study, and almost ran in to Mrs. Hudson who was marching quickly to Holmes' room, carrying the water and towels. She placed the water basin and towels on the bedside table before taking her leave.
I lit a candle and removed my surgical scalpels and knives from my medical bag as well as a syringe of morphine. At the sight of the syringe Holmes shook his head.
" No Watson, no morphine, please." I smiled and understood immediately, I had been trying to get Holmes to stop using those dreadful drugs and he had been doing so well. He was reluctant to give up yet.
" Are you sure Holmes, this will hurt a great deal." to which he nodded weakly in reply.
Instead I pulled out a bottle of very strong liquor and poured a small glass which he downed quickly. I retrieved my needle and thread from my medical bag and handed Holmes a piece of hard wood to bite down on.
" Sorry old friend." I said as I began to clean the knife wound on his stomach with alcohol. He grimaced in pain. It was a nasty wound, about 7 inches long.
And next came the more painful part, the stitches. I worked slowly and methodically and was somewhat satisfied with the end result, I did a decent job I thought proudly to myself. I quickly bandaged up his stomach in an attempt to keep the wound safe from infection.
Next came the part I was most dreading, the part that had more potential of going wrong; the removal of the bullet. I picked up the scalpel for the dissection tray and held it over the candle flame until it was red hot. I waited a moment for it to cool down before beginning the slow and methodical process of removing the bullet. With the bullet now successfully removed I set about removing shrapnel from the wound, this took quite a while but is was very important to get right. Holmes' breathing was ragged from the pain, sweat formed on his forehead and his face set in painful grimace.
With the bullet and shrapnel finally removed I cleaned out the wound and picked up a blunt knife from the table. I held the knife over the candle flame until it was hot and then pressed it against the bullet wound. Cauterizing the wound would stop the blood flow and seal the bullet wound at the same time, but I also had to be very careful about burning the skin. I could only hold the knife to the wound for a couple seconds at a time, I repeated this process several times. Finally satisfied with the job I bandaged up the bullet wound and collapsed into the chair by his bed, exhausted and relieved. Now the main concern on my mind had shifted and it was now focused on making sure none of the wounds got infected.
A/N: To be continued. Please review if you get the chance, thanks for reading.
