A/N: (sung to the tune of "Three Blind Mice") Fail fail fail... I am made of fail... Lots and lots of fail... I am made of fail...
Which is why I am now putting up five chapters at once. Enjoy!
The doctor lay resting on the sofa, a thin blanket draped over him. His wounded leg was stiffly extended, Holmes could not help but notice, and he winced with every movement.
The detective sat staring into the fireplace, as though looking for some sort of meaning in the flames. They told him nothing, however; simply continued their meaningless dance through the burning log.
He could not predict which cases would be dangerous, which cases could and would result in violence. Watson had been well aware of the danger when he had agreed to accompany him, of course, but how could he, Holmes, have allowed him to insist? He should not have to be in danger—the man was in the war, he'd done his share and so much more of duty and bravery. He should never have to be in harm's way again.
But Holmes hadn't thought enough, hadn't weighed the possible consequences, and Watson had almost died. And it was all his fault.
"Don't you go beating yourself up, Holmes."
The detective turned around, startled, to find Watson staring at him. The doctor did not have the piercing eyes of the Holmes family, but his gaze could be remarkably penetrating at times. Holmes' eyes could see through deception to find the truth, but Watson could see straight to a man's heart, an even rarer skill.
"You know I know the risks of every case you take," the doctor continued, keeping a stern gaze on his friend. "If you'd insisted on leaving me behind I would have been forced to follow you in secret, and that's really more trouble than it's worth. So I'd say you made a very wise decision in letting me come along, considering the problems it would have caused had you tried to keep me away. Don't start blaming yourself for my own stubbornness.
Holmes smiled back at his friend. "My dear Watson, it seems you have gleaned the talent of reading minds yourself."
Watson returned the smile. "I learned from the best."
The fire had not changed noticeably in appearance when it fell under Holmes' gaze once again, but to the detective the flames held warmth, a joyful spark which he had missed before.
