/*/*/ Alex's POV /*/*/

I was still dying- only now I was awake and enduring the pain which had hidden from me in sleep. An infection had set in, I was told and I had developed a high grade fever to which every attempt was being made to halt. Watson had placed himself in charge, and I awoke to him giving out orders to another doctor and Holmes. Mary was standing in the doorway with an upset face, and it was she who noticed my awakening first.

They had been so surprised, but we had been unable to talk as Watson had told me it was better that I rest rather than speak. I doubt I would have been able to anyway, as I felt extremely weak and cold- the whole room appearing to sway. But I tried my best not to make them worry, not letting it show through too much and clenching my jaw against the pain in my side as Watson went about dealing with the infection.

"How's her temperature?" asked Watson in a professional manner, even though I could see the worry in his eyes.

"Still rising," replied Holmes. "But at a lower rate than previously."

The detective replaced the damp cloth on my head, and sent me a quick smile.

"Is that a good thing?" asked Mary.

"It appears to be remittent fever," replied Watson, and the other doctor looked at him sharply.

"You suspect something?"

"Yes- infective endocarditis," replied Watson. "I listened to her heart and she appears to have a murmur- as well as Osler's nodes on her feet and hands. Anaemia is another symptom which we can include- even though she's had a transfusion. We'll need to start administering antibiotics into the intravenous route if we want to beat this."

"How long?" asked Holmes, and Watson didn't reply. So he looked up at the other doctor, "Care to answer?"

"Usually the drugs are administered from between two to six weeks," he replied, and Holmes looked at Watson in surprise.

"Bu what about the Blackwood case?" he asked. "Are you to continue assisting me on that?"

I could have sworn the doctor looked quite frightened at the mention of Blackwood's name- so much for doctors being sensible. Thinking back to earlier, I remembered Watson saying something about a transfusion- I didn't know they had transfusions, I just hope it wasn't some recently hung criminal whose blood is in my veins. That would be creepy- actually, just having anyone else's blood in my veins was creepy.

"Alex is still my patient," Watson replied calmly. "I can't leave her when she needs me most."

"She will have the best treatment here I'm assured," Holmes stated. "She will manage quite fine without you."

"And you can manage quite well without me."

Watson stood up properly and turned to face Holmes, and I could have sworn you literally could have cut the tension in the air with a butter knife. The other doctor excused himself, and even Mary looked reluctant to get involved- because it's more than a childish argument when lives are at stake.

"I can't do this on my own," Holmes said, and Watson rolled his eyes.

"Yes- yes you can Holmes, you solve everything yourself and just drag us along for the ride," he replied angrily. "Why don't you get Miss Adler to help you out- she's certainly smart enough."

"Miss Alex already has doctors looking after her- why do you need to be here?"

"Why did you need to give her blood?"

There was a momentary silence, and I was shocked- Holmes had given some of his blood to me? It had been him?

"I did what was necessary- the doctors didn't have the blood so I supplied it," he replied as though it were obvious. "And I'm quite sure that this hospital already has doctors- unless I'm mistaken."

"Doctors who failed to notice infective endocarditis- which might I add is fatal in one in every four people."

"That puts the odd in her favour-"

"No Holmes- one in a thousand or even in a hundred puts the odds in her favour! One in four is a high risk when it comes to peoples lives."

Again another silence; and I must have fallen asleep because next thing I know it is dark and only Watson is here, wrapping fresh bandages across my side.

"Why are you still here?" I asked weakly, and he looked at me with a smile plagued with tiredness.

"Shot through the back where you suffered damage to several major veins and arteries followed quickly by infective endocarditis, broke a rib and had to undergo careful surgery to remove bullet which risked puncturing the lung, a stab wound in the side which also suffered from infection and massive blood loss to top it off?" He chuckle and finished with the bandages. "You're at high risk of dying, and I'm staying to make sure you don't."

"At least I keep you on your toes," I replied, and he shook his head. "Is it really true that I've got the blood of that insane detective in me?"

Watson sat on the bed, placing his hand on my forehead.

"Yes- he was quit insistent on the whole procedure." He removed his hand, but stayed by my side. "How are you feeling?"

"Contrary- I'm pretty much cold all over, but my side and chest feel like they're burning," I replied. "Plus I'm exhausted and I ache all over. How are you?"

"Also exhausted," he replied. "I've been looking after you for a while- something Holmes isn't quite pleased with."

"I noticed," I replied, then lifting my hands saw what looked like red lumps.

"Osler's nodes," explained Watson.

"Osler's nodes? Sounds like someone with a cold," I remarked, and he chuckled. "Not the kind of thing you want to die of."

"You're not going to die," Watson replied firmly, and he held my hand. "The fact that you are awake now and talking to me gives good proof of that."

"Anything can change it though, can't it?" I asked, he didn't reply but his gaze said it all. "I mean I heard pointy-beard doctor say I'm going to be here between two and six weeks, and I'm pretty sure that's sufficient time to die of boredom."

"'Pointy-beard doctor'?" Watson chuckled.

"What? It looked like he had a spear sticking out his chin," I retorted and he laughed even more.

"If you say so."

I pulled his hand towards me and looked at it carefully.

"I've always wondered why men don't have engagement rings," I commented vaguely, then looked up at his face. "Have you proposed yet? Holmes was telling me that you haven't."

Watson rolled his eyes.

"Not yet- I can't find one I like," he replied.

"I'm sure you'll find a really good one soon," I said, letting go of his hand and covering my mouth as I yawned.

"Asleep all day and you're still tired? That's a sign for you to be getting some rest." Watson did a quick check up before leaving the room so I could fall asleep.

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"Sir Thomas Rotheram was discovered dead in his bathtub, presumably by this 'black magic'," I heard Holmes say. "The only thing missing was his ring, which I was told bore the insignia of the ox- he was apparently a member of the Temple of the Four Orders."

"So what does this have to do with Blackwood?" Watson asked. "And why were you found naked and handcuffed to Miss Adler's bed?"

I almost burst out laughing, and I hoped that I hadn't smiled- I waited patiently until they spoke again.

"Judging from his ears- he was Blackwood's father, although I hardly think that's important as the ring was taken. He must have needed the ring for something, something to do with this big scheme of his."

"What scheme?"

"Oh come now Watson, you don't come back from the dead for fun- he obviously has something bigger going on."

"You ignored my question about the whole being handcuffed."

"It's irrelevant."

"Holmes- does this have something to do with why Blackwood wanted to see you before he was hanged."

"Why would you ask that?"

"Because you seemed very preoccupied with what he said." Watson's tone had grown angrier with Holmes' replies.

"Well you're not helping me with the investigations so I hardly think it's relevant for you."

Footsteps were heard, and judging from the noise of the cane it was Watson who had left. A dip in the bed indicated Holmes' had sat down on the bed, almost on my arm, and he proceeded to tap me on the head.

"You can stop pretending to be asleep now," he said, and I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me with a stoic face, pipe in mouth and eyes shining. "It's rude to eavesdrop, you know."

"It's rude to ignore people's questions," I replied calmly, painfully sitting up and ignoring the raised eyebrow as our shoulders touched. "Did you really give me your blood?"

"Well I can't have you dying on me," he replied, and then coughed. "It's nice that you're still with us- It means that I will still have someone to investigate my cases with me, even if you do have to spend a while in this dreary place."

"So you think I'll survive this then?" I asked, indicating to my person. "With two holes in me that are both infected?"

"If I didn't I wouldn't have said it."

On a sudden impulse, I leaned in towards him and kissed him on the cheek, stubble brushing against my lips.

"Thank you."

There was an awkward pause, I blushed heavily and I could have sworn that some colour went to his own cheeks. I would have sworn this had it not been Holmes that I was talking about.

"That was… interesting," he commented, touching his cheek lightly. "I wouldn't have thought you grateful of me after I got you in firing range."

"Well I can hardly blame you for being you," I replied with a shrug, wincing at the pain it caused. "Besides- you shot the man who shot me; I think that stands for something."

"Even though I called you a coward and accused you of caring only of your own life- when you were clearly protecting ours as well?" His gaze turned sad, and I swallowed against the mixture of feelings that had welled up inside me.

"I think I can forgive you for that- I mean I've been stopping you from the Blackwood case." I laughed, but it was hollow. "I wouldn't want to get In the way of your investigations."

"That's good to know," he replied. "But don't worry, the investigation is going ahead just fine- even with these setbacks."

"Nice to see which is more important to you."

Confusion, followed by understanding and then something akin to sympathy. He reached out and placed his hand on my shoulder, and I met his gaze with a strong defiance.

"You are important to me- but how can I help you if I can't find the theory behind all of this madness?"

"By showing that you do actually care about me- even if only a little," I replied, and I rubbed a rebel tear from my face. "Even if you're just pretending."

"How do I do that?" he asked. "I'm afraid I don't quite understand your needs."

"Well for starters you could ask me how I am," I replied, my hand moving to cover the one on my shoulder. "You could ask me if there is anything I need, or just sound like you're concerned about my wellbeing."

"I am concerned about your wellbeing," he replied.

"Only because I'm interesting to you as a case- not as a person."

He sighed, taking his pipe from his mouth before bringing his hand up to stroke my cheek.

"I am interested in you as a person," he replied. "I'm interested in what it is about you that does this to me- makes me want to laugh with you, to help you when you're sad, to stay close to you, to touch you. I am not known as a man of relationships- ask Watson- but I would have it no other way, and I'm sure Watson would agree that it wouldn't be the same without you. I thought that I was fine with just Watson, but then came you- a person who is so similar to me in personality, but so much more emotional. A woman who is eccentric, childish, stubborn, intelligent, beautiful, loyal- a woman who stands out of this boring society and is proud to do so, and now you tell me if that proves that I care about you as a person?"

I stared in mute surprise before I leaned in and kissed him on the lips, my free hand resting on his chest as his free one moved to my hair. He kissed back with a passion, and we both pulled back as we stared at each other in surprise.

"See what I mean?" he asked, pulling his hand from my shoulder and moving it to my back. "I can't explain why I'm doing this- but I'm doing it anyway."

"Shut up, Holmes," I said, before kissing him again.