Loving a Holmes

The Abominable Bride. pt. 2

Holmes and Watson had been working on their case for months. They had gone to the home of one Lady Carmichael to investigate the sightings of the spirit of the late Emelia Ricoletti. Holmes was convinced that it was the work of one, James Moriarty, even though he had thrown his lover's brother over a cliff, he still believed he was behind this.

One day Watson went to visit Holmes at his flat to find him lying on the floor, with a small blue case, lined with a silky maroon cloth, with a needle next to it, lying next to him. Watson sighs and walks over in front of his friend, taking his hat off. "Morphine or Cocaine?" Holmes doesn't answer, but it does appear Watson woke him up. "Holmes.... Morphine or Cocaine?"

Holmes looks up to his friend and smooths his hair back. "Cocaine, a seven percent solution. Would you care for some?"

Watson shakes his head and looks down, taking a deep breath, "No, but I would very much like to find very ounce of it in your possession and pour it out the window."

Holmes stands and picks up the blue case, putting it and the needle away, "I should be inclined to stop you."

Watson moves close to his friend, speaking in a hushed tone, "Then you would be reminded... quite forcibly... which of us is a soldier and which of us a drug addict."

Holmes scoffs softly, looking down at his friend. "You're not a soldier, you are a doctor."

Watson shakes his head, "No, I was an army doctor, which means I can break every bone in your body, while naming them. Do you think that Madison wants to see you like this." Watson sighs and shakes his head, "No, I'd imagine she does not wish to be around you while you're in this state, but she does not wish to say anything. Because she loves you, even though you seem to be reserved to show that to her in the slightest way. You are driving everyone away from you with this. Even the woman who, for some untold reason, loves you, even after all this."

Holmes sighs softly. "Dear Watson, you are allowing emotion to cloud your judgement."

Watson takes a deep breath, before addressing his friend again. "Never on a case. You promised me, never on a case."

"No, I just said that in one of your stories."

Watson points at Holmes, breathing rapidly. "Listen, I am happy to play the fool for you. But dear God above. You will hold yourself to a higher standard." By the end of his sentence Watson is shouting. 

"Why?" Holmes turns back to his friend, looking at him rather confused.

"Because people need you to."

"What people? Why? Because of your idiot stories."

"Yes, because of my idiot stories. And because you have people, partially a young woman, who love you."

Before Holmes can reply a young boy rushes into the flat, handing Holmes a telegram. "Mr. Holmes. Mr. Holmes. Telegram, Mr. Holmes." Then he runs back out of the flat.

Holmes opens the telegram and reads it. He looks shocked and raises his eyes to Watson, who reacts as if he's not interested in the contents but feels obliged to ask the question. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's the girls."

"What about them?"

"It's entirely possible they're in danger."

"Danger?"

"There's isn't a moment to lose."

Holmes takes his dressing gown off and leaves the flat as Watson follows him, "Is this the cocaine talking? What danger could they possible be in? I'm sure they're just visiting with friends."