Holmes turned away, a fiery light in his eyes. "How very amusing Watson- I never before looked into this matter because there was no reason, but now I admit my curiosity is piqued!"

"As is mine I freely confess." The two of us shared a brief smile at the thought, "But I'm afraid that I too must leave. I do not want to leave my wife alone for too much longer. If you do pry any more out of the Inspector, do tell Holmes."

Holmes waved a hand in my general direction as he contemplated the fire, a spark to his gray eyes that was not here before. I left the flat with a bit lighter step, glad that something seemed to of broken the man out of his dark mood.

Several weeks passed without any news as Holmes worked together with Lestrade and Gregson to bring the Merington case to a close. I kept an avid following through bits and pieces I saw through the newspaper, unwilling to pull myself away from my wife who seemed to be falling under ailment once again.

My dear wife however, sensing I was chafing at being housebound, subsequently sent me out to at the very least watch the case come to the conclusion. I had a suspicion that Holmes might have a hand in it, but I chose not to say a word, grateful for the chance to get out into London.

The sooty air filled my lungs, as my breath plummeted into the air. Waiting on the street was a carriage, and Lestrade was standing next to it, dark eyes scanning the crowds. A pleased look crossed his face as he spotted me. "Doctor Watson! Over here! I hired a cab. I believe you shall be able to witness the ending of this case. I hope you have brought along your doctors bag, for we may need it."

"I do Lestrade." I have long since given up on convincing the man to call me by anything other then my title or last name. "I see you came alone this time."

He nodded sharply; I hid my own smile. Holmes had mentioned that Lestrade had not appeared alone at Baker Street since that fateful night, pulling some new Constable to introduce them to Holmes. At least that was his reason he gave when Holmes asked.

I climbed onto the cab, and the horse snorted softly, hoof striking the cobblestone street. Lestrade swung up beside me, grimacing slightly. I leaned forward slightly as Lestrade thumped on the roof of the cabbie. "So then Lestrade; tell me something- what is the story behind your foot."

Lestrade attempted to look innocent; something quite impossible on his thin face. "I have no idea what you are talking about Doctor Watson."

"Come my man! Surely there must be a story behind this foot! I admit I'm a bit surprised that Holmes did not already know the story behind it."

"I would not tell Holmes even if he did ask me." Lestrade snapped back. "Some things are not meant to be shared."

I leaned back, surprised on having touched such a sore point. Lestrade sighed miserably, one hand raking back slightly disheveled hair. That caused me to sit up and pay attention; normally Lestrade dressed to the point of nattiness, but today he did not look so neat. His collar wasn't quite as stiff as it should be, the overcoat was slightly rumbled, and dark shadows were beneath Lestrade's dark eyes, almost unnoticed.

I apologized, and Lestrade's eyes closed for a moment. "I apologize as well Doctor Watson. This case has been particularly trying."

I nodded in response, as Lestrade settled further into the seat. His dark, rat-like eyes watched the passing streets. I am uncertain if he even remembered I was there when he mused aloud, "Fate has a strange way of working. A similar case brought me to this same road, where I-"

He fell silent then as the cab came to a halt in front of the building, and together we disembarked. Gregson was waiting at the doorway, looking as calm as if he were on the front steps of the Yard. "Ready?"

I nodded, patting my trusty service revolver. Beside me, Lestrade pulled out a gun of his own, which Gregson calmly nodded at. "I see you swung by the Yard first."

"Last time we came down here the gun was useful. I have a feeling it will be again."

The two brushed shoulders as they entered in first, moving swiftly into the building. I had no chance to muse on the odd words spoken before the first ringing shots could be heard with the shrill whistle of police summoning the Constables hiding in the buildings beyond.

I bounded through the doorway, pistol rising to aim at the men standing above us shooting as a tall figure swept in behind me. "Watson, think you could pick off the man circling around?"

I nodded shortly, swinging my pistol about to shoot carefully. The man dropped, and that seemed to signal to the other men. As one they abandoned their posts, and Lestrade grinned in happiness. "The back door! The others should get them there!"

He moved quickly after the fleeing men, Gregson only a step behind. I hastened after them, my own enjoyment soaring in the face of such a trap being so masterfully executed. I slowed down, only for a moment when I saw Holmes standing ahead, "You did it Holmes!"

"Indeed I have." My partner agreed, lapping up satisfaction like a cat. "Now we shall get to see this case come to its conclusion-"

"LESTRADE BEHIND!"

Gregson's desperate shout accompanied by a horses wild scream brought both of our attention forward, and I felt dread seize my heart as Holmes grew grim. Lestrade cried out, and deplorable silence fell in that moment.

Holmes and I picked up our pace, heading desperately for the back door. We heard their voices long before we saw them, a trick of the building making the voices loud despite their distance from us. "You Ratty have the worst streak of luck when it comes to this street."

"I *gasp* know fat-head!"

"In pain are you?" Gregson snapped back, the tiniest hint of concern underlying his scorn.

"I'd be in less pain if you'd get your bloody fat hands off my leg!"

"And have you bleed out onto the cobblestones? I think not. Can you imagine the paperwork that would result? Oh, and then they'd have to give me a new partner. You do realize that Constable Dillon is soon to be promoted."

Lestrade wheezed weakly, his voice fading slightly, "Heavens above forbid you having to teach a new Constable the work of a inspect-ow!"

"Sorry." He didn't sound at all contrite.

There was a moment of silence, before, "Ratty, don't fall asleep on me now."

"Why doesn't Doctor Watson insult you? He can't even *wheeze* decide on what I look like."

"He knows that you're short and that's all he needs to know. Besides, we both know that I'm the far more handsome one out of the two of us." There was a sniff as Gregson apparently punctuated the words with a light squeeze for there was another pained gasp from Lestrade.

It was at this point did Holmes and I burst out into the road. My heart immediately sank as I found Gregson kneeling next to the small inspector, both hands soaked in blood, as Lestrade's right leg bled out into the cobblestone road.

Several Constables were holding the suspects. Holmes glanced at the men, before glancing back to Lestrade and Gregson, calmly lying on the edge of the action, Gregson glowering at any who dared come too close.

Lestrade's eyes were closed from the pain, face ashen. Gregson looked up, locking eyes with me. "Oh good, here comes Doctor Watson. You can talk to him about your too accurate descriptions in his book with him yourself. I have several people to actually arrest."

"Doctor Watson? Since when-"

"I came down the stairs just now. I was talking to Holmes earlier and heard the horses scream."

"Oh, right. Horse." There was a thread of relief in his voice, one that I could not quite understand. Judging by the sudden stillness on Gregson's face he however did.

"I'll be seeing you tomorrow at the Yard shorty." Gregson wiped his bloodied hands on a handkerchief and strode away, not looking back as he started barking order to the blue-clad men.

Holmes crouched next to me as I ran gentle fingers along the wound, and I murmured, "Very lucky Inspector that I was here, or you'd have a limp matching the other one."

Lestrade made some noise, but didn't open his eyes, concentrating on not screaming and thrashing. I turned to my medical bag, and pulled out a syringe. "I think before I begin any further examinations I should first take the edge off the pain."

"Thank you Doctor." Lestrade whispered, composure crumbling by the moment. I injected a light mixture of cocaine into him, and the effects quickly took a hold of the man.

Soon I had returned my attention upon the man's leg, hands flexing in preparation for the setting of the bones. "Holmes, could you hold Lestrade down? This is going to hurt."

Holmes placed hands where I gestured, and I ignored the slowly growing enclave of curious constables crowding close together around the wounded man. "In three, two one go." I waited for a second longer, and snapped the leg back into place. The only noise Lestrade made was a soft whimper, almost lost among Gregson's shout for the gawking constables to return to the crime scene.

They did so, throwing glances across their shoulders at the man on the cobblestones as I reached for bandages. Quickly I bound up his leg, murmuring, "It should be fine to walk on in a few months. Until then, I shall talk to your Landlady about not letting you run about too much."

"Work tomorrow." Lestrade murmured back, breath low and pained. "Promised Gregson."

Lestrade hadn't spoken so much as a word to Gregson since I had arrived, but I simply shook my head. "Unless you want a mirroring limp Lestrade, you will not leave your apartment for at least two days. I will inform Gregson that you will not be making it. I will then fetch us a cab. You are to stay still."

"But-"

"No moving. Holmes, watch him."

I took advantage of their surprise to move away, hailing a cab while signaling to Gregson. The inspector nodded shortly, motioning to a constable, before moving towards me.

We spent the next few moments discussing Lestrade; mainly I insisting that Lestrade would not be fit for walking for the next few days, Gregson merely watching, and I at last turning back to where Lestrade was still lying on the ground.

At least, he was supposed to be. He seemed to be making some movements to sit up, with Homes shaking his head at the man. "I would stop Lestrade; before the good doctor decides that you can only recover at his own home."

Lestrade stilled at that, one eye cracking open at Holmes. "He wouldn't…"

One eyebrow cocked above cool eyes. "You doubt my words?"

Lestrade hesitated there, before his head fell back on the cool pavement. Holmes hand twitched, as if considering what might happen if he were to place it beneath Lestrade's head when gray eyes rose to meet mine.

"Hmm, here comes Doctor Watson now."

"Oh good. That means I can get up."

"With me helping you, yes." I replied, reaching down to check bandages. "The cabby should be arriving any moment now."

Lestrade nodded slowly, one hand wrapping around my own tightly as I pulled him to his feet. He swayed unsteadily as the clip-clop of the horse approaching drew nearer. Lestrade hunched miserably, as Gregson's shouts grew more strident, attempting to bring order to the constables.

The cabby drew up, and the dark-haired man eyed its depths uncertainly. Gregson must have been watching for he snorted loudly, "Leave already would you? You're quite simply taking up and wasting space, which is an accomplishment for someone your size."

"Oh go drown in the Thames Gregson." Lestrade snarled back, carefully clambering into the cabby. I pulled myself up behind him, checking to make certain that his leg was not too badly jostled. Holmes clambered up beside me.

The cabbie stood still, and I blinked, realizing that I knew not where Lestrade lived. "Lestrade- where-"

Holmes jumped to my rescue at that moment, rattling out an address I did not quite recognize. I recognized the area soon enough- it was a comfortable place, not too ostentatious, but neither so poor he might find himself among the criminal element.

Lestrade slowly disembarked, clutching at the cabby for support. I whisked myself out not a moment later, leading Lestrade to the stair and letting Holmes pay for the cab. Judging by the stare, Holmes did not much like the idea, so instead he commanded the cabby to wait.

I stifled my own groan, well realizing that the man was going to leave me saddled with the bill either way. "Come Lestrade, we'll get you settled in."

Lestrade leaned against me, and I took note of his light weight with some concern. The Inspector had not been eating right, and I immediately began planning a time to revisit the man to talk to his landlady about making certain he was eating. Lestrade fumbled for a moment as we climbed the stairs, pointing at a door.

"That would be mine." A key was whisked out; door opening shortly after, and I supported him into the room.

"I'll be by on the morrow to bring you a crutch. And to tell your landlady that you are not to be going out. I already informed Gregson."

Lestrade grumbled at that, settling onto the couch with a wince. I glanced around the flat, unsurprised to see that there was not much to it- there were few ornaments, even fewer mementos, and the only thing that convinced me Lestrade spent any amount of time here was the line of books on a small shelf over the fireplace. Each were carefully preserved, but well thumbed through.

I wondered what books Lestrade read, but settled instead for squeezing the man lightly on the shoulder. "I will be back on the morrow. You should try to get to bed soon."

Lestrade's head fell back, dark hair escaping in wisps. "Thank you Doctor Watson."

"No problem at all Lestrade." I patted his shoulder, "Get some sleep."

The man sank down upon the couch, eyes slipping close. He would hurt in the morning, but I hesitated to get him into bed. At last, after hovering for a few moments longer, I pulled a duvet out of a linen cabinet and left the man to his sleep.