An Argument and a Rescue
3/13 Edit Note: My apologies if those of you that have story alerted this story get a new chapter message again. I was just fixing a typo that was pointed out by a kind reviewer. Thanks!
"Watson… Watson. Come now, wake up old fellow. Watson!"
The voice I remember broke through the ether of my unconscious state slowly, but gradually I became aware of my surroundings once more, and regretted it instantly when a throbbing pain accompanied that awareness.
"Ugh," I groaned, moving my hand tentatively to inspect the damage done to my head when it was instantly smacked away.
"None of that, Watson! I've already taken care of it, just lie still."
Suddenly recognizing the owner of the voice that spoke, however, I shot up from my prone position, adrenaline fueling my remembered anger of previous events.
"Holmes! How could you keep something like this from me?!"
"Watson, keep your voice down! I am not supposed to be here, and if someone is alerted of my presence all this pretense will be for naught!"
"Pray, explain this pretense to me, Holmes, as this is the first time I've heard of it!" I hissed at his scolding, glaring at him best I could with still clearing vision and the only light source being from a lantern turned as low as possible.
"I could say the same to you, my dear Watson! Do you have any idea what danger you have put us in?"
"I put us in danger?" I scoffed in disbelief; "I was trying to help a friend and nothing more whereas you purposefully put yourself in harm's way! So I ask again why didn't you at the very least warn me of your plans, Holmes?"
"Because of the danger of this very situation happening! I knew you would want to help despite any logical arguments I would make to the contrary so felt it better to leave you out of it altogether. It appears, however, that I was not the only one of us keeping secrets," Holmes spat, looking every inch capable of brutally hurting someone in that moment as before as one of Harrison's men.
I felt my face flame in a mix of residual anger and embarrassment in that moment, but my pride would not allow me to concede defeat.
"I kept my meeting with Edgar secret because he asked me to not tell you, and so I promised not to as a gentleman. Not to mention after hearing your description of Harrison later I was afraid that if you knew of Edgar's association with the devil you would force him to be bait for one of your elaborate traps to catch the blackguard! The man has, as you have already pointed out, murdered in cold blood to stay in business, and I could not in good conscious let that happen to a friend for the sake of another!"
"So you value his friendship more than mine, do you?!"
Swearing that I could have heard jealously slip into Holmes' tone for only that instant, I quickly brushed the observation off as absurd as I tried to rise from my prostrate position on the hard dirt floor of what I could only assume to be some kind of unused cellar. Having someone of Holmes' already impressive height towering over you while engaging in an argument with him was hardly fair, so despite my dizziness I wished to level the playing field as much as possible.
This was, however, much to Holmes' dismay as I nearly lost my balance several times in trying to attain a standing position, and he was finally forced to assist me to my feet.
The humiliation this caused bruised my pride however that much more, and I pushed his hands away as soon as I could manage on my own.
"It is not because of that and you know it!" I exclaimed finally, though my winded breathing lost much of the force I tried to put behind the statement.
Swiping a hand across his face in frustrated fury, Holmes gave a low growl behind his hand before facing me once more as cool and collected as I've ever seen him.
"Be that as it may Watson, this quarrel of ours does nothing to help the problem at hand. Harrison will surely dispose of you both by the time the night is out if we do not act now. My hands are tied as one of his men and I am taking a great risk even now talking to you. However, we do have an ally at our disposal that I will call on to deliver you from this predicament later tonight. I'm afraid it must be tonight as only then when the ratting sports are at their peak that all attention will be taken from your prison. I must leave now to avoid any suspicion on my part as well."
I could only nod curtly in acquiescence to my aloof friend, trusting him with my life as I had done so many more times before despite the anger I still felt, but I could tell even then by his eyes that our little "discussion" was far from over. What came first, however, was getting out alive for such a conversation to take place, and in executing this feat my faith in Holmes was implicit.
He went for the thick wood door with lantern in hand, after this silent communication, and hearing the bolt move solidly in place to bar the door, a throat clearing that was not my own suddenly drew my attention to the other inhabitant of the room for the first time. The argument Holmes and I had been so embroiled in had apparently made us both forget the presence of Edgar.
"He's a good chap, that Mr. Holmes," Edgar swallowed nervously, unsure of his place with me and for good reason, "willing to get us out of this mess."
"Who said anything about 'us'? He only mentioned helping me escape and I have a good mind to leave you to the wolves."
"What?! John, you must believe that I had nothing to do with this! I was told to pay what I asked of you and nothing more! Please, John!"
Grabbing him from the position he'd taken on the dirt floor in disbelief and fear, I managed to pull him up by his shirt collar with my good arm and looking him square in the eye while doing so, my unresolved ire towards the whole of the situation overthrowing the remaining pain in my head as it had done with Holmes.
"Then swear Edgar, swear to me you had nothing to do with this while looking me in the eye and I will believe you. I will know if you are lying. I've learned my lesson from trusting you blindly before!"
"I swear John! I had nothing do with this!"
Only then did I release him, as he had not even blinked when he'd sworn to me his innocence despite his fear.
Edgar was telling the truth, but where did that leave us? I could only assume that it was me that Harrison had been after all along as he could have easily disposed of Edgar for not paying his debt long ago. But why me? I had been used as bait to trap Holmes on more occasions than I cared to admit, but if they knew he was on their scent, even working amongst them, why did they bother to first strike at me and not him? Was it possible that Harrison was completely oblivious of Holmes' presence in his dark den?
These thoughts and many after them filled my mind for the remainder of that day, though I am sad to admit that my efforts bore little fruit. It was like missing a crucial piece to a puzzle and any attempts to find it left me endlessly searching. Edgar, for his part, knew better than to bother me during this time as I in all likelihood bore the same expression I'd had while in intensive study at the University, and he of all people would remember not to bother me when such a look came upon my face. Upon reflection he still had the scar just to the right of his right eyebrow from when the large medical textbook that had sailed towards his face and hit its mark spot on the last time he had tried to break my concentration the night before an extremely important exam.
As there were no windows and only the one door which made our current quarters a perfect prison, I had no concept of time as I bumbled through my attempts at deduction. There was not even enough light from the slits of the door to make out the hands of my watch. It was as I finally came the conclusion that I was able to draw no conclusions about Harrison's plan behind imprisoning Edgar and I and ultimately killing us that a peculiarly familiar sound came from the door.
I could not identify it, however, until the door suddenly opened the slightest bit, blinding me with the little light that now made its way into the cellar and shadowing the figure that popped its head through.
It was the voice that accompanied the figure that made me nearly laugh out loud. Ally indeed, Holmes, I smiled.
"Oi Doctor! Mr. 'Olmes tol' me ta come an' spring ya!" Alfie whispered loudly, grinning back.
Author's Note: And enter Alfie! Many thanks go out to KCS for lending the little fellow to me for a while. I'll be the first to admit that I have next to no experience writing Cockney accents, however, so if anything really looks out of place please let me know! Thanks for reading and please do review!