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Watson smoothed down Holmes’ hair and adjusted the blankets to make sure they were fully covering Holmes. He picked up the cup of tea he had just set down and attempted to hand it over to Holmes.
“More tea?” Holmes asked, making a face at the cup. “Have I not drank enough tea yet?”
“No,” Watson said. “Especially since you are having a hard time eating anything right now, you need nourishment.”
“My mind is too idle for eating,” Holmes complained, but he accepted the tea and took a sip.
Watson did not point out Holmes tended not to eat even when his mind was not idle. “How is your pain?” he asked after Holmes had taken a few sips. “Would you like me to give you more morphine?”
“My pain is fine,” Holmes said. “I do not know why you insist on so much rest, I am perfectly alright.” He finished off the cup of tea and held the cup out towards Watson.
“You lost a fight and were stabbed,” Watson said. He took the now empty cup from Holmes and set it aside before taking a seat on the chair next to Holmes’ bed. “You need to rest to heal, you cannot risk tearing your sutures.”
Holmes tilted his head. “My dear Watson, if you recall I was not the one who was left unconscious by the end of that fight. I would not consider that a loss.”
Watson suppressed a sigh. Holmes had been beaten quite extensively as well before being stabbed and was also covered in bruises due to that. And yet he had somehow gained the upper-hand towards the end of the fight and had rendered his attacker unconscious. Watson carefully brushed a hand across one of the bruises on Holmes’ face. “That may have been the case, but you are still injured, my dear Holmes. And if you do not rest your recovery will only be delayed.”
Holmes caught his hand and held onto it. “Do not worry, Watson. I will be okay,” he said, giving Watson a reassuring smile. He had clearly picked up on Watson’s concern.
Watson stared at their joint hands. “I…I am sorry, old man. It should not have taken me so long to come to your aid. If I had been faster, perhaps you would not have been stuck in bed.” Watson had felt the guilt for not being fast enough for days now, but had not gotten a chance to apologize to Holmes until now.
Holmes gently squeezed his hand. “You do not need to apologize,” Holmes said. “I was aware your leg was paining you and how much time it would take for you to come to my aid. It is not your fault I was injured.”
“It is not yours either,” Watson said, feeling slightly reassured although some guilt remained. He knew of Holmes’ tendency to get frustrated with himself for every small mistake.
As expected, Holmes did not look as if he believed Watson, but he gave Watson another smile. “You do not need to worry, my dear Watson. You are taking excellent care of me. I am sure I will be back to work soon.”
“Not too soon,” Watson said, giving Holmes what he hoped was a stern look.
Holmes chuckled and let go of his hand. “Now, Watson, I am slightly chilled. I do believe it would be a good idea if you join me in bed and warm me up with your body.”
Watson rolled his eyes at Holmes’ words, but carefully squeezed into the small bed beside Holmes. He curled up next to Holmes, making sure not to touch Holmes in too many spots. Watson knew Holmes was easily overwhelmed by touch and did not wish to make Holmes feel any worse.
Holmes sighed in relief. “You are wonderfully warm, my dear fellow,” he said. “I have no need to sit by the fireplace when laying together warms me up.”
Watson chuckled. “I am glad to be a satisfactory heat source,” he said. “Now I do believe it would be a good idea for you to rest.”
Holmes did not seem pleased by the idea, but he closed his eyes without protest. It only took a few minutes before his breathing slowed down and his expression slackened. Watson smiled at the peaceful expression on Holmes’ face before closing his own eyes. Holmes had a long recovery ahead of him, but Watson was sure he could help Holmes get through it.