Prompt: A Failure to Listen

From: Aleine Skyfire

….

"HOLMES! YOU ARE BEING A STUBBORN ASSHEAD!" I bellowed at my poor friend, Sherlock Holmes. He winced, unused to me shouting so loudly, and I felt guilt prick my breast for my reaction.

I had dealt with the most insufferable and prejudiced patients today, for the most part, and my friend was not helping matters by getting out of bed with a broken leg… three times.

Will the man not learn?

I sighed and put my hand on Holmes' shoulder. "I'm sorry, old chum. I never meant to snap at you, just now. I am tired, and exasperated, and… and trying to keep you from hurting yourself further…"

"I suppose you were not wrong, Watson, I was being an asshead," he quirked a smile at me, but I still felt guilt for my reaction. "Come now, Watson, I can see clearly I have stretched your limits beyond their already extraordinary capabilities. I do not blame you in the slightest for your reaction."

"Still," I sighed. "I know you get bored and restless, Holmes, and you were"-

"I still am, in the middle of a case," he corrected me. "As fond as I am of my brother, my dear Watson, I do not wish to emulate Mycroft by sitting on my backside and making my deductions."

"You could attempt to emulate his diet a little," I retorted, my arms around my friend. He was as thin as a poet, and dark circles were beginning to form under his eyes. "And get some sleep too, my friend, you look worn out."

"Pooh! You exaggerate, Doctor." He informed me.

"If you, the man with one of England's most brilliant minds, can find the factual evidence to overrule a mere doctor's medical opinion and professional knowledge, I might just keep quiet about your irregular and alarming habits."

Holmes attempted a biting remark, but, for once, had none to give, for he knew he could not argue with medical science, despite his foolish defiance of his body's needs of sleep and nourishment. He glowered at me, presumably for rendering him speechless.

I softened at seeing his scowl. "Come on," I chided, gently. "You cannot move one foot, Holmes. You have neither ate nor slept in days. You hardly make for a formidable opponent."

He reminded me most bluntly that his mind was his greatest weapon.

"I'm glad you appreciate that, and use it so finely, Holmes, but your gifts cannot overcome a broken leg, or hunger, fatigue"-

He growled and wrenched his arm from me, before attempting to limp for the door.

"But my case, Doctor!" He snapped, and I knew Holmes was enraged. He only used my title in polite company or when he was exceptionally angry with me. "I have to see Inspector Lestrade about an important aspect of this case!"

"- and, I was about to say, not even your singular powers can overcome my concern for you, my friend," I whispered. "I cannot stand by and watch you tear yourself to pieces, even though you are clearly in need of rest!"

Holmes blinked owlishly.

"You-I- that is…" he faltered, unable to come up with a reply.

"Holmes," I said, kindly. "You need to rest and partake in some food. Please, let me see to your health. It will be my duty as your doctor and my honour as your friend."

And hearing these words softened his sharp, keen features. "Watson… I know I often disparage your ways with the written word, but it is pleasing to hear such sentiments from time to time."

I nodded. "Come, let me help you to the sofa for now, and I'll get you some tea and sandwiches." I began shepherding him to the sofa.

He nodded sheepishly as we plodded along. "Thank you, Watson. As you well know, one of my greatest failures is not listening to your sound advice."

I settled him on the sofa with a blanket, as well as some of our housekeeper's pillows, and was about to go downstairs to ask Mrs. Hudson for a tray of ta and sandwiches, when Holmes grabbed my hand in his own, in a comforting, friendly, gentle clasp. He smiled shyly at me, before squeezing my hand, reminding me that he appreciated my company and friendship.

I smiled back, before tenderly reciprocating the gesture.