Because Holmes appears to be not getting beat up as much as Watson...
I was so cold.
I wanted nothing more than to sink down into that beckoning blackness, far from the pain and chill, and not return. Why not?
But the darkness was pushed back as warmth suddenly cocooned me. No, it was too hard; though the warmth was welcome, I was too tired to make the effort to return…
"H-Holmes? Holmes, please!"
Oh, why wouldn't people just leave me alone…
"Dear God, no! Please!"
Confound it, the darkness began to retreat as I felt movement and something lifted me, tightening round my injured frame.
Now I remembered, the carriage had turned over that embankment…
But I only wished for darkness as pain began to filter through my senses. If only that grip would loosen, it was hurting dreadfully, rocking me…
"No! Holmes, don't do this to me, please! I – I can't survive it, not again!"
The desperation in the voice suddenly drove the darkness further back, as I gradually became aware of my surroundings...I was being tightly held in a shaking grip, my aching head resting against something far more comfortable than the stony ground…
"No!"
And as I heard the unmistakable sound of a heart-broken sob close against my head, I suddenly realised there was something I wanted far more than to just sink into that welcoming blackness.
I turned back.