Sorry Ten Times
-Watson's POV-
At first, I froze. But then realized he was still breathing, and it was no longer as ragged. I sighed, realizing I had stopped breathing. I grasped his hand, glad that he calmed; though I knew I had not reacted like a good doctor. I had reacted in fear.
"Holmes? Take it easy. Try not to move," I whispered, hoping he heard and understood. "I'm so sorry," I continued, unable to contain what I needed to say. "I'm sorry I didn't join you that morning with Mr. Brown. I'm sorry I was unable to control my temper with that man. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'm sorry I didn't go with you to watch the shop. I'm sorry I made you feel jealous of Sam… I'm sorry I couldn't mend things… I'm sorry you're in so much pain. I'm sorry, Holmes. I'm so sorry."
My voice broke. I was becoming hoarse; thanks to a lack of sleep and an abundance of worry, no doubt. I sat there for awhile, gripping his hand and calming him when he was in pain. It was frustrating to think that if he woke up like I dearly wanted him to, he would suffer more pain. I could dim the hurt, but not carry them for him, like I desired to. It was his burden.
