Festivities and Fruitcakes

December 27

December 27: “War wound.” (from Poseidon God of the Seas)

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A/N: Holmes’s POV.

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Watson and I had been out on a very taxing case since before sunrise that morning, and did not arrive back home until nine that night.

I’d reached the top of the stairs when from behind me, Watson let out a pained gasp.

I turned around and saw that he was clutching his thigh.

“Watson?” I said, eyeing my dear friend uncertainly. “Are you all right, old fellow?”

“Yes, yes, I’m all right.” His voice and tightly shut eyes betrayed the amount of pain he was in. “It’ll pass.”

“You had better sit down nonetheless,” I replied. Poor fellow!

The old soldier nodded, visibly paler than he had been, and took another step. His let a hiss escape from between his teeth, but made it up the last couple of stairs nonetheless.

I pretended not to be as concerned as I was—the fellow had his pride, and I did not want to bruise it—and poured my friend and I each a brandy. The cold weather and all the time spent upon my feet had certainly gotten to me, and it seemed it had left Watson in even worse straits.

My friend was seated in his chair by the fire when I returned with the warming drinks, and thanked me quietly when I handed his to him.

I hoped it would help him.