Part 3

Holmes ushered Watson out of the building, outside the doctor meet them.

Holmes couldn't help but notice the striking differences between the two doctors. Aside from the fact that his friend was in worse shape. The doctor that met them was an older, shorter, plumper, white haired gentleman who looked like he'd probably never been in a fight, ever.

The man was positively grandfatherly. He went to take Watson's other arm to help move him over to the carriage that was waiting.

Watson tensed and drew back from the man nearly toppling himself and Holmes. Holmes held strong and keeping them both up. The Doctor's concerned face intensified.

"It's alright son I'm here to help." Holmes was disconcerted by how the man spoke to Watson in a tone with which one speaks to a child. Watson composed himself and tried to put on a strong face in front of the doctor. He tried not to grimace too much as the older man took his arm and helped him to step up into the vehicle.

The doctor moved Watson up and in, and instructed him to sit down throwing a blanket over the younger man's damp shoulders. Holmes sat on the bench seat next to his friend and the doctor instructed the driver to head to the Veteran's Hospital.

Watson, unsettled, disagreed with the destination. "Home." he insisted weakly in the general direction of the doctor. The doctor took Watson's wrist and checked his pulse ignoring his patient's protest.

Watson's pulse was racing and the doctor looked warily at the younger man. "Try to relax Dr. Watson, you're among friends now."

The doctor sat across from him trying to get a good assessment of his injuries. Watson shrank back from the man and pushed closer to Holmes closing himself off to the doctor as much as possible.

Holmes observed his fiends reaction curiously. "It's alright old friend this man is only trying to help you." His encouragement not taken Watson remained in his guarded posture. He eyes darting at every movement and loud noise.

"Tell him I'm alright Holmes." Watson said his head resting against the wall of the carriage as the doctor turned to take something from his bag.

The carriage moved quickly through the streets. The cobblestones in this part of the city were anything but smooth and they rocked and bounced on the bench. Watson kept his arms wrapped around his middle and his teeth clenched.

Holmes made another mental tally Watson was vehement that he should not be taken to the hospital.

The doctor turned back from his bag with a needle at the ready. "I can give you something for the pain now if you like." He said compassionately.

"No." Watson made a stronger protest than before.

The doctor was taken aback. Watson was bloody, bruised, and obviously in pain yet refused help.

Holmes though this old doctor must never have been in contact with a kidnapping victim before. Watson was taking it upon himself to reassert some control over what was happening to him. Holmes had seen it many times before.

"That's alright son, we're here now." The doctor put a reassuring hand on Watson's knee. Then carriage came to a halted stop jerking the passengers inside. A whimper of pain slipped past Watson's lips. His hand clutched his leg as pain exploded from the sudden jarring.

While Watson reeled from the sudden shock the doctor opened the door allowing two orderlies to assist in getting an unhappy Watson out of the carriage and into the building. They whisked him away so fast Holmes didn't have time to object. He was left standing at the carriage hoping he'd made the right decision by bringing Watson here.

Inside a stark room Watson struggled as the orderlies removed his damp clothing.

"I'm fine. Really." Watson panicked as the doctor approached with a needle. In the back of his mind he knew he shouldn't be afraid of the doctor. He was a doctor, doctors were there to help people. Still he couldn't help but fight as the push the needle into his arm.

Holmes stood in the hall looking in as drugs injected into Watson took affect. His friend's nervous expression relaxed and Watson stopped struggling.