Prompt: Blood on snow is too vivid to miss…

By W. Y. Traveller

"You never give up, do you?" A man snarled at me

"Yeah he's done nothing except trying to free himself the past hour." Agreed another.

"Well, that's why you were told to keep an eye on him." Said the first, impatiently. He turned to me, who was looking around for a way out of this dank, miserable cell. Outside, the moon shone her silver dress upon the snowy ground, and the stars twinkled in admiration. But unlike the stars, I had no time to appreciate the scenery outside, as I was in a very ugly predicament.

"Now," he said. "No point trying to escape. You're quite trapped in here. Where is Mr Holmes?"

I said nothing in response. I just gave what I hoped was a steely glare, even though my stomach was rapidly turning itself inside me.

A cold hard slap was all I got for my troubles.

"Well, where is he?"

I grimaced. My cheek was stinging from the blow, and yet I managed to keep back tears of pain that formed in my eyes. And yet, I still had some defiance left in me. I kept up my glare.

"Suit yourself." Said the first man. The two then gave me a threatening look, as if to say "We warned you. Now you will suffer the consequences."

"Oi, Donaldson! Francis! Get out here now!"

My hero, I thought, dryly.

"Ughh, coming." they moan in unison. They both glared -and gave a few choice words- at me before running out to join the other guards.

Up to this point, I had been standing within the confinements of my cell, but my legs were shaking badly now, and my wounded limb was starting to weary me, so I sat down with some difficulty, as my feet were tied up as well. I bury my face into my knees as I remember the argument which Holmes and I had earlier.

It had been a hard day. Holmes and I had arrived at the Silver Key Inn and were shown to our room. It was small and damp, but we were only going to be there a night anyway. Once we were settled we had started conversation.

"So, Holmes any leads on the case so far?" I inquire, sitting on the bed. It groaned in protest as my body mass sank into it.

I have a theory, Holmes replied, but I will need to test it first. Now if you will excuse me, I need to go out and-"

"Oh no, you don't." I say, firmly, like a mother about to scold her child. I'm coming with you.

"I would prefer to this on my own Watson. Do not make it difficult for me." He replied.

"Holmes I insist that I accompany you-"

"It is too dangerous Watson; I am afraid I cannot-"

"Have you forgotten," I hissed, "that I have been shot in Afghanistan and survived? And also that I have been near death on several cases? Does that not tell you that I am capable of this one as well?"

"You are not going, and that is final." Holmes voice was showing that I was treading on very dangerous ground indeed.

"Well in case you haven't noticed, you excluded me from this case so far. It was one of the most complex affairs I have ever come across. Do you not care about my company anymore?"

Holmes just stared at me for a split second- and then his palm flew right into my cheek with a blow.

Now, in this particular moment in time, my face throbbed. I gave Holmes a brief look, before I snap.

"Well I guess you don't need me here anymore. I shout and with that I storm out of the inn…

"And then… it'll be 'Goodnight Mr Holmes!" Laughed a man from outside. His chortles freed me from my thoughts, but my blood ran cold. Were they…

"Ohh, I can't believe we get to murder Mr Holmes!" Another man squeaked. He sounded like he had on overdose of helium.

"Shh, Perky! Be quiet! We don't want that Watson fellow to get any ideas." Burone, the man in a deep, smooth voice, hissed.

"What? He's locked up ain't he?"

"Well yes. But we can't have him go out and save Mr Holmes or the boss will kill us. Right, let's go."

Once the door slammed, I frantically tried again and again to get free, for Holmes sake, but to avail

Oh Holmes I'm so sorry, I thought, I'm sorry we fought. My only fear is that I'll never-

No Watson, You survived Afghanistan, survived Holmes you can do this. I admonished and so, I wriggled on my side for a moment. If I could stay still, maybe I could free my hands by wriggling one out of the rope at a time. I had no time to lose.

I drove myself harder and harder, aiming higher and higher, to get myself free of those wretched ropes which were chaffing my poor wrists. My good cufflinks kept receiving new patterns on them as I cursed and fought to free my right hand in order to untie my feet, escape, save Holmes, apologise and get some supper as well.

I continued on doing this even when my hands were both freed, as it took me a good half hour to get the rope off, I think.

And with that accomplished, I untied my feet, with many curses and reknotting, picked the cell lock with one of Mary's needles and ran out for the door.

….

Panting, I knew that, some twenty minutes later, I was lost. So I decided to stop, and look for the North Star.

That was when my heart froze.

The moon was shining down on… blood.

At this point in time, dear readers, I felt myself beginning to hyperventilate. Where was Holmes? What had happened and why?

Was he… still alive?

I felt my knees begin to buckle for the second time that night. But I didn't care. I felt worried about Holmes.

A hand manifested itself upon my good shoulder, and squeezed it tightly.

Startled, I whip around, falling as I do so.

A familiar face smiled at me in amusement, moonlight casting a soft glow on the features of none other than

"Holmes!"

Indeed. Are you alight Watson? He queried.

Somehow, I knew he wasn't talking about my fall, or the fight.

I I'm fine Holmes. I manage to say. Are you...

"Yes, yes," he said, waving a hand dismissively. And that was when I noticed.

"Holmes! Your arm is bleeding!"

"Oh what an excellent observation, doctor." He said sarcastically. But his expression soon softened to one of worry.

"Watson, he whispered. "I'm sorry, for not including you in this case. And, um, for slapping you." He added hastily. I noticed he was looking on my cheek.

"No, I think that was justified." I said firmly "I'm the one who's sorry Holmes. You know better than I do, and I should have trusted you."

You are forgiven. He said. He suddenly pulled me into a tight embrace.

For the first two seconds, I could barely breathe. But, regardless, I wrapped my arms around my friend, not caring if blood was getting on my jacket.

I would have to treat his arm anyway.

A/N: Well there you have it! Third day, already! A bit of a longer story for you dears, seeing as I had a bit more time on my hands! Thank you to those of you who have reviewed BoB so far, I never got so many reviews for one story before, and I am very thankful. Also, thank you to Hades, Lord of the Dead, for coming up with an awesome challenge! Thank you to Lucille, Temporarily Abaft and W.Y Traveller, for coming up with these prompts. Thank you KnightFury and Mrs Pencil for the follows (and to the former for the favourite as well) and thank you everyone for reading! And now that have expressed my gratitude, I will be quiet, except for one last teeny little thing. I hope you have enjoyed this story, and that you will leave a review.

Silvermouse :D