Prompt for the 3rd of December from Ennui Enigma - 17 Steps

I do hope that Holmes is out or else deeply engrossed in something. There is nothing more humiliating than finding oneself unable to manage the few steps to one's own sitting room. How many did Holmes say that there were of the wretched things? Seventeen? It had might as well be a hundred and seventeen!

One step... Two... Ouch! Take a deep breath and remain quiet. Don't want the servants to hear or see me. Another step... Only fourteen more to go...

I am not even midway up the stairs when my damned leg gives way beneath me and I half collapse and half kneel onto the step I had been attempting to climb with a muffled curse. Even with my heavy stick to support me, I can go no further. I am altogether too cold, too weary and much too weak. What would Holmes think of me were he to see me like this?

The front door opens and slams shut. I hear footsteps in the vestibule and then the hall door opens, allowing a chill draught to assault my back and cause me to give a violent shiver. My wretched bladder now decides to remind me that it has been rather a long time since I last had an opportunity to ease myself and I grimace. That will have to wait.

"Watson! My dear chap! Are you all right?"

I hastily nod as I wipe the tears of anger and weary frustration from my eyes so that I can see well enough to try again. My game leg shakes as I attempt to stand on it and I hear my companion gasp a curse.

"No! Do not move! Wait there - I am coming."

I hear Holmes ascend the stairs behind me, feel his arms steady me as he assures me that all is well.

"You work yourself much too hard Doctor," he gently chastises me. "You know that you would shout at me were I to come home in such a condition - and you have done so before now."

It is true. However, it takes Holmes days of neglect to become as weak as this, while it has taken me mere hours. A long day tending my patients, followed by what should have been a short walk home in a rainstorm was all that it took. I most certainly do not have my friend's strong constitution.

"Watson? Are you quite well? You have not spoken a word as of yet and you are shaking dreadfully. Is there anything that I can do for you?"

If I were to say anything, I would more than likely tell him to go away. However, even without my companion's logical mind I can see the flaw in sending away the only thing keeping me from tumbling backwards down the stairs. And so I remain silent, save the occasional gasp or grunt of pain.

"Watson? I trust you would tell me if you were nauseous?" The fellow's tone does sound frightfully nervous.

"I am not feeling sick Holmes," I grate back at him. "I am simply weary and... and somewhat angry."

I feel him freeze and his cold hand grips my good shoulder. "What have I done?"

The tone sounds much too vulnerable to have come from Sherlock Holmes, but the voice is most certainly his.

"Watson? What have I done this time? Have I offended you in some way?"

I shake my head as we at last reach the landing, my damned leg still shaking and attempting to fold up beneath me even with the help of my fellow lodger.

"It is not your doing Holmes. I am frustrated."

The fellow pats my shoulder. "You need a restorative drink and perhaps a short siesta. You shall soon be all right. Is there anything else that you require, besides the obvious?"

I shake my head as he deposits me on the sofa and pushes it closer to the hearth. I have my pride and would prefer to be left alone.

"Here, wrap these about yourself - you look terribly chilled. Drink this - it is brandy; it will warm you. Now, I shall soon have a cheerful blaze going and then I dare say we shall both feel much improved. You are not the only fellow that has had a bad day, you know."

I immediately cease my self-pitying and self-deprecating in equal parts and for the first time look at the fellow. He is hunched beside the hearth, clearly doing his utmost to keep himself from shivering, and he does indeed have a dejected air about him. His clothes are also at least as wet as my own and I recall how very icy his hands had felt as he assisted me. How could I not have noticed?

The moment that the fire is lit, I urge the fellow to sit beside me a moment and to warm himself. I even share the blankets that he has been thoughtful enough to swathe me with, for I am already feeling considerably better now that I am warmer.

"Thank you Watson. I must confess that it is pleasant to be shown such consideration after such a day as I have had. Though I perceive that yours would likely trump mine. Incidentally, you should change your clothes before you catch a cold."

I shiver as I recall the dampness of my clothing and attempt to stifle a sneeze, cautiously squeezing my legs together as I do so.

"Precisely," says Holmes with a sniff. "I presume that you had as much fortune in finding a cab in that deluge as I did."

It has been pouring a near-freezing, unforgiving rain over the city for most of the day, hence much of the difficulty with my damned leg.

"There was not one to be seen," I confirm. "I had to walk home. It was not far..."

"Far enough," the detective mutters, hurting my pride more than he is likely to ever realise. "Well, never mind that now. I shall get you a change of clothes - you had best remain here in the sitting room until your leg sees fit to behave itself. And then..."

"And then you are going to change your own clothes - for you are also somewhat damp and are just as likely to catch cold as I am," I interject quickly. "We shall then ring for a nice, warming dinner."

He sniffs again, gives his head a rather strange jerk forward, almost as if he were giving an impossibly perfectly silenced sneeze, and then nods in agreement. "Very well then Doctor. I shall bow to your logic. However, you look somewhat... uncomfortable. Come with me."

I am taken through to the washroom, where Holmes ensures that I am able to tend to myself without incident before withdrawing to find me the promised change of clothes. I cannot help but wonder again at his powers of observation, for I was quite certain that I was not making this embarrassing need at all obvious.

We are soon both warm, comfortable and enjoying a good, hot meal. I smile at my new friend, feeling quite glad now for his support and patience. It was not in the least what I would have expected from the fellow.