Forgiveness
"Honestly, Holmes." Watson said, as he put a cold compress on his friend's head. "What on earth possessed you to go gamboling about in the rain? Of course you caught a cold."
Holmes did not say anything; he merely looked at his friend. Watson finished his work and then looked silently back at him.
They sat like that for some time.
Finally, it was Holmes who spoke first.
"Forgive me."
Watson got up and went to his medical bag and started to put his instruments inside. Holmes watched him, anguish and hurt present clearly in his normally inexpressive eyes.
"There is nothing to forgive."
Holmes started as Watson turned around and faced him with a sad smile.
"That was a long time ago, Holmes. It was no where near your fault. Like I said, there is nothing to forgive."
"You're wrong" said Holmes "There is too much to forgive."
He looked at his friend.
Watson sighed and sat down next to his friend.
"If that is so" he whispered "Then I forgive them all."
Holmes smiled, the first smile that day.
"Thank you. My dear Watson."