The early morning light poured through the gap in the curtains. Watson slowly cracked his eyes open and moved his head to rest against the other wing. Then he heard it, a heavy rasp breaking the silence of the room at intervals. Watson sat upright and saw Holmes on the sofa asleep. At some point, Holmes had situated himself on the sofa fully with his head shoved in the inner corner. He lay flat with one hand resting on his stomach and the other across his chest lightly grasping a paper. The rasp emanated deep from within Holmes as he breathed. The sound caused a slight amount of panic to well up within Watson, he knew that sound all too well.

Watson slid out of his chair and knelt next to Holmes and shook him gently by the shoulders. Even though the several layers that covered Holmes Watson could feel the heat radiating off his friend.

"Holmes wake up. I need to examine you again."

Holmes's eyes rolled beneath their lids and his mouth twitched. Watson called him again gently this time it yielded results.

"Wassson" Holmes slurred with a hiss. Holmes cracked his eyes open and took a rasping breath. The larger intake of air sent Holmes into a round of coughing so intense he curled onto his side with his arms wrapped about his chest. Watson grabbed some of Mrs. Hudson's throw pillows and placed them against the armrest. He gently uncurled the now gasping detective and propped him against the pillows.

Watson dug out his stethoscope once more. Holmes's eyes were closed again as he was focused on breathing without coughing.

"It seems you were right old fellow." Gasped Holmes.

"I'm still hoping I wasn't right." Watson stated flatly. He gently placed the bell of his stethoscope on Holmes's chest. The cold metal against hot skin caused Holmes's breath to hitch. Watson listened closely as a light wet-sounding wheeze echoed through the earpieces.

That's not good thought Watson

He swapped sides and found the same sound.

"It appears as though you have some congestion that set in overnight." Watson rambled off. "We must get you into bed."

Holmes simply nodded

Definitely not good if he is voluntarily going on bed rest

Watson left the detective and went to Holmes's room on that same floor, turned down the bed and placed his medical bag next to the bedside table. Upon returning to Holmes Watson contemplated how best to move him. Neither of them were young nor was he as strong as he once was. On top of that Holmes was no longer as light as he had once been.

Decades before Watson could remember carrying an injured Holmes up the seventeen steps to the sitting room all on his own. He sighed at the thought of their once-former youth. Holmes opened his eyes and began to leverage himself upright with a wheeze.

"Careful there." Watson soothes while helping Holmes. Watson slipped his arm around Holmes's waist as Holmes put his arm around Watson's shoulders.

Now that Watson was in physical contact with Holmes, he could feel his friend's lungs vibrate as he drew breath. He gently lifted his friend and began moving towards the bedroom. Once Holmes was propped up slightly in bed he seemed much more comfortable.

"There you go old boy just relax." Soothed Watson as he settled a damp cloth on Holmes's brow.

"You…need rest too." Drawled Holmes with his eyes closed.

Watson dragged a nearby chair from the vanity to the bedside.

"Not a chance. I would never forgive myself if the world had to cope without Sherlock Holmes before it was ready."

Holmes wheezed a chuckle and sank deeper into the pillows. Watson poured a glass of water from the nearby pitcher and stirred in a fever reliever along with sleeping powder for good measure.

"The taste is unappealing but it will help your fever from getting much higher." Watson soothed.

Holmes grimaced as Watson coaxed the mixture down his throat. Once the glass was drained Watson took his seat by friend's side. Soon Watson could tell his newest patient was asleep. After a while, his thoughts turned toward their future and current circumstances. Holmes could never truly give up his work and he knew it. Once the cases stopped so would Holmes and that would very likely be the end. Watson took in the image of his friend lying before him.

After Watson had convinced Holmes to stop using his 7% solution things changed greatly. Over the following years not only had Holmes's personality changed (for the better in Watsons' opinion) so had his physical appearance. The new weight on his frame was but one of the changes that had happened to Holmes over the years. His sleep schedule became more regular as did his appetite and soon his attitude changed enormously. Holmes became…nicer towards their clients. He no longer scowled at them with his eyes shut and dismissed them abruptly when their case did not spark his interest. Instead, he listened intently with a neutral air until they said something of importance to him. Holmes even escorted several distraught ladies to the door uttering reassurances as they clung to him sobbing thanks when he agreed to take their cases.

Finally coming out of his thoughts a quick glance at his watch informed him that half past noon would soon strike. Holmes's fever wasn't dangerously high but it would certainly be annoying. After changing the towel and making sure he wouldn't have to send an Irregular for more supplies he heard a light knock on the door.

"Come in ." He called softly.

eased the door open and peered around the tray carefully balanced on one hand.

"How is he Doctor?" she set the tray down on the cabinet with a long practiced movement Watson was convinced most ladies her age wouldn't be capable of.

"He is certainly ill but hopefully we caught it early enough that it won't become any more serious than it already is." Watson Got out another round of fever reducer and set it beside the water just to be ready.