Prompt from sirensbane: Blood-soaked
Blood welled from the wound, quickly soaking through the thin fabric. Watson looked down at Holmes in horror. He opened his mouth, but then had to shut it against a grimace of pain as he fell to the ground.
Holmes crawled over, broken leg dragging behind him. "Watson? Watson, tell me what to do! How can I fix this?"
"Pressure," Watson gasped, breathing ragged. "Pressure... on the wound. Don't-" He bit his tongue against a cry of agony. "Don't stop."
Holmes nodded, pulling himself upright to press against Watson's blood-soaked side. Watson's hand clamped around his wrist, and he looked down to meet Watson's steely gaze. "Don't stop."
"I won't," Holmes vowed. He pushed against Watson's side, keeping the pressure.
Even as Watson moaned with agonised pain, struggling to get away, until his struggles died away and he was no longer conscious, even as Holmes' own leg sent searing shoots of fire up his thigh, Holmes did not stop. When Lestrade, warned by one of Holmes' Irregulars, raced into the alley with a squadron of officers at his back, still Holmes had not stopped.