Hey KCS and Fortress, can I join the angst-fest too? LOL ;) Boy, it's not easy writing exactly 221 words, with the last one starting with 'B'...but it sure is fun! ;)
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My mind wandered as I lay on the cold ground, while blood pooled beneath me. Holmes and I had been hot on the trail of Geoffrey Bradley, a wanted murderer, but after that, the memory grew hazy. I knew not where I lay, or where Holmes was.
All I knew was pain.
Blinking, I tried to regain my senses enough to assess my injury. The pain came from my left arm, and I cringed at the sight of two bullet wounds. It would be a miracle if neither had broken a bone. I fumbled for the handkerchief in my pocket, but dizziness assailed me, and my head lolled against my will. My vision began to gray, for I had already lost a great deal of blood.
I never heard the running footsteps, and was startled when an arm suddenly slid beneath me and sat me up, leaning me against a hard surface.
A shaking surface.
"Watson?!" I heard.
Relief flowed over me at the sound of that voice. "Holmes?"
I heard my friend's relieved sigh, and his fearful shaking lessened. "Come, Watson, we must get you home."
As he started to pull me up from the ground, I looked around nervously. "Where is he?"
"Fear not, Watson," he said, pulling my good arm around his shoulders. "The Thames now holds Bradley."