Watson woke in the middle of the night. His room was quiet except for the light tapping of rain on his window. He rolled onto his side, shoulder and leg protesting as he did so. These days he slept fine unless something woke him up. In the years previous he couldn't sleep at all but a light rain was preferred to dead silence or the howling wind which reminded him of Afghanistan. Something had to have woken him up so he strained his ears. After a few moments he heard the offensive sound of a muffled cough. Holmes must have finally gotten back from the party he had been invited to.
His acceptance to the said event was somewhat strange as Holmes wasn't usually one to go to elite parties, especially at his age. Watson slowly got to his feet. He was happy the floorboards didn't squeak anymore as he pulled on his dressing robe and snuck to his door.
Watson pressed his ear against where the door and the frame didn't quite meet in order to hear down the stairs. Once again he could hear a cough muffled by what sounded like wool.
Could someone be assaulting Holmes? Watson thought.
There were no sound of a struggle, simply a quiet cough. He eased the door open quietly and peered down the stairs. Flickering light poured out of the partially open sitting room door as the hearth had evidently been stoked back to life. Holmes had indeed come back and was sticking the night out in the sitting room.
Once again a cough floated up the stairs followed by some harsh gasps for breath. Watson had told Holmes to curb his smoking. Holmes's pipe could rival a steam locomotives smoke stack on any given day and had twice fooled passersbys on the street below into thinking the flat was on fire when Watson opened the window to air out the room.
Watson grabbed his cane and quietly proceeded down the short flight of steps to the sitting room. Peering around the door frame so he could see, he took in the scene in the sitting room.
Holmes was in his usual spot on the settee wrapped in his mouse-colored dressing gown with papers scattered about his feet. His breathing could be heard from across the room where Watson still stood unseen. Holmes sighed thickly before drawing a hissing breath. Watson watched as Holmes drew in too much breath and stiffened. Holmes convulsed once before smothering his own face in a throw pillow and coughing.
"Holmes?" Watson asked quietly hoping not to startle his friend.
Holmes stiffened and turned round to face him. "Watson…." A shape short intake of breath "I apologize if I woke you." The entire sentence sounded strained.
"No the rain was keeping me up." Watson lied the best he could "You however are ill it seems."
" No no, just a slight cough caused by the rather potent amount of perfume at the party. "
"Holmes I've seen you smoke some of the most pungent tobacco found in England, it is not a lady's perfume that caused this."
Holmes looked at him balefully before cracking a slight smile. "Neither of us can lie to one another anymore old chap." A small cough wracked him " you were sleeping quite peacefully by the marks the sheets made upon your face dear fellow."
Watson moved further into the room towards Holmes. The gas lamps had not been lit but the fire in the hearth provided enough light for Watsons' medically trained eye to see the paleness in his friends face. Holmes sipped on his lukewarm tea as Watson sat beside him.
"Holmes I could hear your breathing from across the room and you've got a cough, you know I have to make sure this doesn't develop further." Watson explained
Holmes was opening his mouth to protest no doubt when Watson cut him short.
"Holmes we are no longer the young men we were. Something like this could be seriously dangerous and I must insist that you let me check."
Holmes shut his mouth and attempted a drawn-out sigh which ended in the same dry cough Watson had heard earlier. Holmes nodded in affirmation.
Watson stood and fetched his medical bag from the foot of the coat rack. Setting it open on the inn table he pulled out his stethoscope while Holmes undid the first three buttons of his dress shirt.
Over the years following Holmes's cessation of the use of his 7% solution he had filled out quite a bit. His new weight sat well on his naturally tall frame which gained him some unwanted attention from the ladies about London. Holmes formerly chiseled facial features that made lengthened eye contact difficult for even the most hardened criminals had given way to a softer appearance that suited him in his ever-advancing age.
Watson settled the earpieces in his ears and rested the bell of his stethoscope on the right side of Holmes's chest. The two of them had been through this routine so many times that he didn't even have to ask for Holmes to draw a deep breath.
No popping or cracking but not a clear draw
Watson moved the bell to the left side of Holmes's chest.
None there either but a constricted draw here as well.
He decided to check the detectives' heart while he was at it and placed the bell directly over Holmes's heart. The thumping that filled his ears was a rather grounding sound as it was an undeniable indication of Holmes's humanity, the opposite of what his personality portrayed at times.
Nice and steady but slightly elevated. Then again Holmes never really liked direct contact even with me.
Watson repeated this on Holmes's back just to be sure.
"Well there are no signs of pneumonia and your heart sounds fine however, there is some constriction I hear. No doubt that is what is causing that cough" Watson stated stowing his stethoscope back in his bag. Holmes stifled a series of small coughs with his fist as Watson fished around till he found his inspection mirror.
"I'm going to check your throat for signs of inflammation. Turn your face towards the fire please."
Watson kneeled in front of Holmes mirror in hand.
Holmes must feel terrible if he's not protesting examination very stubbornly
Holmes leaned forward slightly and opened his mouth. Watson gently maneuvered the mirror to the back of Holmes's throat and angled it so the reflection caught the light of the fire allowing him to see downwards. Once he had it angled correctly Watson could see the opening of Holmes esophagus and epiglottis. He studied the fleshes color and function while having Holmes breathe through his mouth and nose. There were only slight amounts of irritation present. He withdrew the mirror allowing Holmes to close his mouth with a grimace.
"You have some inflammation in your throat with is probably what is causing that sudden cough.
Watson straightened and repacked his bag.
"It feels as though I've swallowed hot sand." Complained Holmes rubbing his throat.
"So you went to a party and the perfume in the room caused this did it? Must have been some rather strong scents." Mused Watson settling in his armchair.
Holmes settled back into the cushions sighing a soft long sigh.
"No." Holmes stated flatly "It was a small case. The matriarch of the Arrowshire family wished for me to scope out who was planning to steal and forge the deeds of the families' emerald mines. I was hiding out on a window ledge." Holmes finished by dropping his head into his left hand.
"Holmes…you spent several hours out on a window ledge in the cold and rain?! Do you know what that could result in!" Watson leaned towards Holmes.
"A positively confirmed hypothesis and a sore back." Holmes queried
"Numerous other ailments and then some!" hissed Watson "Bed immediately lest this get worse."
"There is no need for that. These papers however…" He leaned over to pick up a handful of daily newspapers. "Need pouring over."
As Holmes brought himself back into an upright position he inhaled and once again started coughing. Grasping his throat Holmes didn't look at Watson.
"Holmes the entrances to your airways are inflamed. That means no smoking and no casework. You need to eat something and rest."
Once again Holmes glared at Watson. Watson removed the klosh revealing some sandwiches Mrs. Hudson had left out for them.
"Eat" Watson commanded gently
Holmes huffed, reluctantly grabbed a sandwich and began to nibble. Watson moved to his chair and grabbed the yellow-backed novel he failed to finish earlier that evening and started the next chapter. Multi-tasking was a necessary skill every doctor must have and Watson was no exception. He kept reading while keeping an eye on his friend. Twice Watson saw Holmes grimace when swallowing and reaching for his tea to chase the scratching away.
Watson mentally shook his head at his old friends' stubborn attitude. Keeping with Holmes's usual activities he eventually ended up laying across the sofa with his legs hanging over the armrest, paper lofted above his face as he scanned it. Eventually, Watson nodded off for several hours, book resting in his lap.