The army doctor was done with Sherlock, he wouldn't be returning to 221B tonight. He moved to turn around when he felt himself pulled into a headlock and a material of sorts smothering his face. He knew that smell all too well. Chloroform. He felt himself going under the drug taking hold as his legs lost their purpose. He took as much energy as he could from his last seconds of consciousness. Uttering the words he had had on his tongue since the day he met Sherlock Holmes.
"Fuck my life"