I watched anxiously as hazel eyes flickered open, registering panic as he struggled – but then they fastened upon my face and the franticness softened into relief and trust before they closed again.
A moment later they re-opened, traveling round the room, taking in the familiar surroundings before finally coming to rest once more upon me where I sat close.
"Do I want to know what happened?" he asked weakly.
"You got hit with a chair."
"What, again?"
I broke into a laugh of pure relief – if he could make a joke like that then it was not as bad as I had feared.
The feeble wry smile he had given me widened as I laughed, relighting my pipe with a more steady hand.
"You do seem to get in harm's way over-much of late."
He snorted, then winced in pain.
"Concussion, I'm assuming?"
"I've told you, never assume – deduce, Watson."
"I really couldn't care less about your parlour tricks at this moment, Holmes."
"Ooh, testy are we?"
"You're rather ungrateful for someone who'd have gotten his head sliced off if I hadn't tackled that Neston chap before the ceiling fell on me."
"I've told you, never leave your back unguarded."
"That's rather hard to do when I'm watching yours, dear fellow."
I felt my eyes sting – that confounded pipe smoke burned.