He can't be dying

  I frown and reach into my pocket, pulling out the bloodied handkerchief and unfolding it completely, holding it up with hands at it's corners. "Can you explain this?" He sit up in his chair, and eyes it before looking back at me. "Where did you find that?" He asks, quietly. "I didn't. Gladstone had it, and came over to me." I explain. He looks at me, surprised. "Did he?" I nod my head. He looks over to Gladstone who is laying down a few feet away, his head up and staring at us. "Traitor." Holmes says, annoyed. Gladstone whimpers and bows his head.

  "Care to explain?" He look over to me then back down to his lap. "Not particularly." "Holmes." I insist, irritatedly. He takes a deep breath before speaking. "You wouldn't believe I had cut myself yesterday on working on my experiments, would you?" He asks, hopefully, still not looking me in the eye. "No. I wouldn't. You're not one to tend to your injuries." I exclaim. "Right." He states, disappointedly.

  We sit in silence for a minute before he breaks it. "Tuberculosis." He says, quietly. I furrow my eyebrows as I stare at him, not knowing what to say. "Umm . . . what . . . -" I stammer. " What did you say, Holmes?" "You heard. I have tuberculosis, Watson." He repeats, a bit louder but no less sadly. I sit, quietly and look down to my lap before finally speaking. "Holmes, are you sure?" "Yes." He quickly replies. "To answer your first question, I have been gone at an appointment. They confirmed my suspicions."

   Conformed suspicions? "How long have you known?" I ask, with a hint of anger and hurt. "I only found out today. I have suspected it for . . . for about two weeks now." I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "Two weeks!? You've been coughing up blood for two weeks, and didn't go to the doctors sooner nor find it important enough to tell me!?" I exclaim, irritatedly. "I am sorry Watson. I honestly didn't think it was anything severe. I've coughed up blood before, so I ignored it, thought it might be do to recent injuries . . . But when it got worse, and the pain -" he trails off. "I decided to find out today, just to make sure it was nothing, and if it were, I wasn't going to feel the need to say anything." He explains. "I'm sorry Watson. I wish you didn't have to find out this way."

  I sit, shocked at the news I have been bluntly informed of. Tuberculosis. That is a terminal illness that can't be fixed. It's a death sentence. He will surely die sooner than he should, and nothing can be done about it. I swallow and look back to Holmes. He is sitting forward his eyes are closed as he rests his elbows on his legs and his fingers to his temples.

  "Holmes I -" I don't know what to say. I'm distraught as well as he probably is, understandably. "Im so sorry Holmes." I say, sympathetically and truthfully. He looks at me and gives me a sad smile. "Don't worry Watson. It'll be alright." He tries to assure me, out of courtesy, even though we both know the truth.

  "How long?" He looks at me,  I knowing exactly what I mean. "Eight months. A year if I take better care of myself, which I plan to do so . . . only for you, thkugh." He adds, admittedly. I smile, slightly at that. He really doesn't care for himself like he should but when he does, it's to for me.

  "What about work? Do they know?" They, as in Inspector Lastrade and all the others. "No. And I'd like to keep it that way." "Why?" "If they knew, they wouldn't allow me to work for them any longer. I'd like to keep working for as long as I can. I hope you take that into consideration." I nod my head. "Of course. I won't tell a soul unless you tell me to." He nods his head, appreciatively.

  I'd prefer he not work any longer as well, but he would be stubborn about it and if I were to inform the inspector I would be betraying his trust. That is not something I am willing to do.

  The rest of the day we went about our normal activities and chores. Neither of us mentioning his condition. It was hard for me. Everytime I opened my mouth, I wanted to scream. I wanted to say:

•This can't be happening!
• There has to be something we can do!
• Why are you so calm about this!?
• You can't be dying!
• I can't lose you, you're my best friend!!!

But for his sake, I sucked it up and didn't mention a word about it. There's nothing we can do and I don't want to upset Holmes anymore than he is.