At the Watson household, Mary, Doctor Watson's wife, was becoming increasingly worried. It was an hour past midnight, and her husband still hadn't returned. Of course, being a doctor's wife she expected late hours, but also knowing about his friendship with Holmes, she expected great danger.

Suddenly, Mary heard fierce pounding on the front door. She quickly stood from her seat and rushed to the door. It was only when she opened it, that she was greeted by her weary husband carrying a bloodied Holmes in his arms.

"Dear god, John. What happened to him?" asked Mary.

"He's been shot. I fear that the bullet may be lodged inside of him." said Doctor Watson.

"Bring him in."

Doctor Watson carried Holmes inside and to the parlor; where he laid him out on the floor and removed his shirt, fully exposing the open wound.

"Darling, bring me my bag. I have to remove it."

"You intend to perform the procedure here in the parlor?"

"I can't carry him up the stairs without causing stress. If that happens, then his muscles will become stiff and he'll only begin to bleed again."

Mary nodded and grabbed Doctor Watson's bag off of the mantle and laid it next to him. He began pulling out a few tools, which included forceps to remove the bullet. As he lifted his scalpel, Mary grabbed his wrist.

"Shouldn't you give him something for the pain?" asked Mary.

"I've no time to administer anesthetics, Mary. It has to come out."

Mary took a few steps away from her husband and turned her back to him; just so she was unable to watch the surgery. Doctor Watson laid a hand on Holmes' forehead, and their eyes met for a moment.

"I'm sorry, old boy."

Doctor Watson let out a sigh and began to use his scalpel to cut deeper into Holmes' flesh. Carefully, he began to remove tissue that had become infected by the wound. This was a sure sign that the bullet was inside of Holmes body.

After a near hour, Holmes had lost a great amount of blood and close to losing conscious; by a miracle, he was still alive & alert. Then, it happened; Doctor Watson had finally found the bullet and extracted it with his forceps. He then took out a needle to suture the wound close, and a thin piece of thread to hold it together. After suturing and bandaging the wound; Doctor Watson turned his attention to Holmes, only to see that he was completely unconscious.

"Holmes...?"

Doctor Watson acted quickly and checked Holmes' pulse. Thankfully he found one, and then stood to his feet.

"Mary, do you mind cleaning the parlor? I'll take Holmes upstairs."

"Of course, John."

Doctor Watson carried Holmes upstairs and laid him out on the guest bed. After a few minutes, Holmes regained conscious and turned his head towards Doctor Watson.

"Watson?"

Doctor Watson turned his attention towards Holmes and saw that he was trying his best to sit up. He rushed to him and gently pushed him against the pillow.

"Try not to move. You're recovering from major surgery."

"S-Surgery?"

"The bullet had lodged into your stomach. I had to extract it. Thankfully, there doesn't seem to be any damage to your internal organs and there is only a slight risk of infection."

"Percentage."

"What?"

"What is the percentage of the risk of infection?"

"I would estimate about a 90 % chance of your full recovery. You've only a 10 % chance of a developing an infection."

"So then it's small."

"Yes, very. You were lucky that the bullet didn't scar any intestines, that would have only produce more blood."

"The...The..."

Doctor Watson, knowing what Holmes was wanting to say, laid an assuring hand on his shoulder.

"Lestrade took him into custody. I'm certain they'll add attempted murder to his list of numerous charges."

Holmes gave a light chuckle, which was short-lived when he felt a wave of pain rush through his body. Doctor Watson reacted quickly and took his hand, allowing Holmes to grip it as badly as he wanted. After two minutes, the grip was loosened and Holmes relaxed. Doctor Watson carefully released his hand and covered Holmes' body with the bed's blanket.

"It's best if you sleep, Holmes."

"I do suppose you know what's best."

Holmes closed his eyes and soon fell asleep. When Doctor Watson felt it was safe to move away from his bedside; he did so and walked out of the room, and downstairs to the parlor. He saw that Mary was working on scrubbing the blood stains out of the rug. She looked up when she realized that her husband was in the room with her.

"How is Mr. Holmes?" asked Mary.

"He's resting for the moment. Unfortunately, he is in a great amount of pain."

"Will he be all right, John?"

"Of course he will. There's only a slight chance of the wound becoming infected. That would be the only setback, if there are any."

"You sound so confident."

Doctor Watson paused for a moment, and then let out a deep sigh. "I have to be."