The Picture of Health

[matilda3948]

Hi all. I've never written this fandom before. Actually, I've never read or watched any Sherlock Holmes until I went and saw the new movie this week so I hope the characterization and descriptions are accurate(ish). I'll be posting this in multiple parts--probably in pretty small sections while I figure out how to work with these two delicious characters. Hope you enjoy!

***

“Holmes, did you hear me?” Watson prompted. “When was the last time you ate anything?” The doctor leaned across the desk to try and get his friend to break his focus on whatever contraption he was tinkering with.

“Of course I heard you Watson. There’s nothing hindering my auditory faculties.”

“What about your answering faculties?” Holmes sighed in frustration and set down the metal tools he was working with.

“I took morning tea, Watson.”

“I said ‘eat’ Holmes. Not even you can survive on tea.” Holmes leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Why are you here, Watson? Shouldn’t you be preparing for you impending nuptials? Being fitted for a tuxedo, purchasing gold rings, that sort of thing?” Holmes asked. Watson sat down in the chair across from his friend’s desk and gave him a critical once over. Making snide remarks about his marriage was something Holmes resorted to when he was trying to deflect attention from the previous line of questioning. Watson sighed—his friend really didn’t look well. He had several days worth of stubble on his face and his hair looked as though it couldn’t decide which direction it wanted to go in. Neither of those things was particularly noteworthy, but the lack of color in his face and the severe dark shadows beneath his eyes were troubling.

“If you must know, I am here because Mrs. Hudson messaged me and said you hadn’t eaten in several days,” Watson said.

“For the life of me, I don’t know why that woman takes an interest in what I do or do not ingest.”

“Neither do I, but the fact remains you haven’t eaten in three days.”

“I should think the answer to your question is obvious Watson: I wasn’t hungry.” Watson resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Well I didn’t think you were on a hunger strike. My more pressing concern is why you’re not hungry. Are you ill, Holmes?”

“I am the picture of health,” he replied and stood up from his desk. “Now if that is your only concern, I must insist that you let me get back to work. I have pressing investigatory matters to attend to and you…well, I’m sure you’ve been apart from your darling Mary long enough.” He practically pushed Watson towards the door.

“Now, Holmes—wait a moment. I just wanted to—” His protests were cut short however when Holmes suddenly turned his head and sneezed. Heh-Ah-gnshhew! Watson frowned as he watched his friend pull a handkerchief from his front pocket and sneeze several more times. Heh-ahh-ngkshhew! K’tschhew! K’tschhew!K’TSCHHEW!!

“Bless you. Picture of health?” Watson questioned with a raised eyebrow. Holmes cleared his throat.

“Absolutely. The sternutatory reflex is one of the oldest bodily reaction to irritating nasal stimuli.”

“Irritating nasal stimuli?”

“Really, Watson, I’m surprised. For a doctor you seem unfamiliar with this basic bit of human anatomy.”

“I’m plenty familiar with anatomy and I’ll have you know that the two most common types of ‘irritating nasal stimuli’ are due to offending flora and illness. As it is the middle of February and nothing has bloomed here in several months, it’s only right to assume the latter in your case.”

“Assumptions are nearly always foolish. The mark of a slow or lazy mind.”

“You make assumptions all the time.”

“I said nearly always. Obviously I have neither a slow or a lazy mind,” Holmes said. His retort was followed almost immediately by another fit of rapid sneezes. Kehstchhh!! KehhTSCHH!!EhTSCHHH!! Hhh-angstshhh!!Ngxtchhh!! Ahh-Ih-Shtshhheew!!

“Bless you. No Holmes. You have neither a slow nor lazy mind. You do, however, have a cold. Sit down, old chap and let me have a look at you.”

TBC...

[Spoo]

Ah! This looks great so far. Their banter is spot-on! I'm looking forward to more.

[hiyou9]

I love! And the characterizations are spot on, kudos

[Invisibles]

I am LOVING this! You got them so perfectly! Really looking forward to reading more! ^^

Edited January 2, 2012 by SickHolmesLuver

[matilda3948]

Oh, I'm so glad you all like it and that it sounds accurate! Okay, here's the next section:

***

“Bless you. No Holmes. You have neither a slow nor lazy mind. You do, however, have a cold. Sit down, old chap and let me have a look at you.”

“There’s no need for you to fuss, Watson. I assure you that I am fine,” but there was little conviction behind his words.

“I’m sure you are but you’ve just sneezed more in the last minute than you have the entirety of our friendship. Humor a foolish doctor, sit down for a moment, and just let me check you over.” He placed a hand on Holmes’ arm as he spoke and he finally relented and sat on the sofa against the far wall. After fetching his medical bag from the entryway, Watson pulled a chair up so he could sit directly across from his friend. “How long have you been feeling poorly?”

“Three or four days. Perhaps longer.”

“Perhaps longer?”

“Nearly a week,” Holmes confessed. The doctor sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I should have seen you sooner.”

“I didn’t want to trouble you.”

“You’re no trouble, Holmes.” When he friend shot him a skeptical glance, the doctor amended his statement. “Notifying me you are in ill health and need a doctor’s care is no trouble.”

“You are busy.”

“Never too busy to care for a friend. Now hold still a moment.” Watson placed his hands in several different positions on his neck and throat checking for swollen glands. Next he laid a hand on his forehead. “Your glands are not swollen but you do have a mild fever. Nothing too worrisome but you really ought to be in bed. I’m assuming you have a sore throat in addition to the congestion and sneezing?” Holmes simply nodded. Watson removed his stethoscope and leaned closer to place the metal conductor against both the front and back of his chest. “Your lungs sound clear. I suspect it’s just a bad cold but unless you want it to develop into something more severe you need to take care of yourself.” Holmes stood up and walked over to the large window overlooking the courtyard. Watson watched the troubled looking detective stare out in front of him. Sometimes it was better just to try and wait him out—give him time to decide if he wants to discuss what was on his mind or not. He watched Holmes’ shoulders rise as he took in a deep breath before sneezing. Huhh-Ahh-NGXTchheew!! Hahh’Ngkchheew!! Hhh-angstshhh!!Ngxtchhh!! “Bless you.”

“My apologies. I thank you for your diagnosis, Watson, and I promise I shall take it under advisement.”

“Holmes?” he questioned, surprised by the dismissive, almost cold, quality of his comment.

“As you said, it is just a cold. I have no doubt I shall recover within a few days.” The doctor stood and stared at his friend’s back. He’d missed something, he just wasn’t sure what. He walked over and stood next to the detective and followed his line of sight but didn’t see anything to shed light on his friend’s mood. They simply stood there for a few moments, the only thing interrupting the silence was periodic, quiet sniffling.

“Holmes, you need to rest,” Watson finally said.

“Yes, I know. I’m really quite tired.” The doctor finally had a hunch.

“When was the last time you slept?” he asked.

“I regret to inform you that it has been several days.” Watson frowned. He knew his friend periodically battled boughts of insomnia and that they could frequently cause him to suffer moments of depression and malaise.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Watson asked.

“I assumed it would pass as it always does,” he said.

“But it hasn’t?”

“No. It has not. I cannot recall the last time it was this severe,” Holmes said allowing his eyes to wander out the window once more. Watson ran a hand over his face and sighed.

“I’m sorry, old friend,” Watson said. “I should have noticed that something was amiss much sooner than today.”

“How could you have known?” he asked finally turning his head to look the doctor in the eye. His eyes were glassy but Watson had no idea if it was from illness, emotion, or utter fatigue.

“I should not have gone so long between visits. In all likelihood you would not have fallen ill if you’d been sleeping regularly and your insomnia does not simply begin without early indicators. Had I come by earlier I might have been able to provide some assistance.”

“My dear Watson, I assure you that you’ve committed no wrongdoing—no breach of friendship. These things happen from time to time. Though, I admit, it has done me some good to see you today. I…” his voice suddenly faltered and I recognized the tortuous expression that overcame him as he brought his crumpled handkerchief up to his face. “Excuse me Wa..ahh…ahh…Watson. I have to…ahh – Ah! Hah-IHH-SCHHEW!! Ehh…HehhIHH’NXKTSHHEW!!” The sneezes nearly doubled him over and he instinctively gripped the side windowsill to steady himself. AhhhHEHH-NKGtschhhew! He sniffled and coughed slightly into the soiled handkerchief.

“Bless. Here, take mine,” Watson said and handed over his own clean, freshly pressed handkerchief.

“Thag you,” Holmes said, his voice still thick from the harsh sneezes. He blew his nose roughly and Watson frowned as it caused him to cough again.

“Come on, Holmes. You need to get to bed. I’ll see if I have something to help you sleep but even if you can’t you need to get off your feet, keep warm, and rest.” He nodded and allowed himself to be pulled away from the window.

“Thank you, Watson. You may be right—I fear I am not well.” Watson patted him on the back.

“It’s alright, old friend. We’ll set you right.”

TBC...

[Jorm]

Are you sure you've never read any of the original stories? Because as a long time fan of them I think you got the characterization extremely well! Which is saying something if you're only experience is with the RDJ films because as enjoyable as they are they take quite a lot of liberties with the characterization of Holmes. Though maybe no as much as I thought if you were able to write him this well with that as your only reference.

Important point of all that being that I'm loving this and I can't wait to see more! You write the dynamic between Holmes and Watson brilliantly! And a sick Holmes is always welcome in my book

[SterlingSilver]

WOW~.. LOVE this fandom, and this is wonderfully written to far <3.. Looking forward to another post from you, matilda!

[hiyou9]

I am in LOVE with this!

[Invisibles]

I squee'd. <3 You write these two SO well! I'm jealous I'm loving this so much right now!

[Zuki]

Continue! I am so in love with Sherlock Holmes, and this is well written!

[DogLover]

You write them so well! And sneezy!denial!Holmes=gaaaahhh....

You must continue. Or I might go insane.

[VoOs]

Brilliant stuff. As everyone else have said, you got the characters and their banter down perfectly. <3

[queenie]

Quite well done. Excited to see the rest!

[sneasons greetings]

...Holy poo.

That just...

Amazing.

Really, amazing.

More please?

[matilda3948]

Thank you so much, you guys! It makes me so happy to know you're all enjoying this. I think this is probably the last section for this little story but I may continue to play with this fandom more. Perhaps a sneezing Watson next? I don't know. We'll see. Anyway...more story

“It’s alright, old friend. We’ll set you right.”

Watson guided Holmes towards his bedroom. He wasn’t surprised to see the bed littered with papers, books, and clothes. Holmes hadn’t been joking when he said it’d been days since he slept.

“Why don’t you go change and I’ll start a fire and take the chill off the room?” he asked. Holmes nodded, grabbed some night clothes off the bed and went behind the changing screen. Watson knelt down in front of the fireplace and worked to light a fire. The room was cool and damp—definitely not the atmosphere for someone with a cold. Speaking of the patient, he shuffling across the floor and crawled under the blankets, the debris falling off and scattering on the floor. “For goodness sakes, Holmes, give me a moment and I’ll clear the bed off,” Watson said.

“No need,” came a muffled reply. Watson simply shook his head and began stacking books on the floor and putting together the many scraps of paper covering the bed. After tidying up the bed, Watson went out into the living room and got his bag and an extra blanket off the back of the sofa. He asked Mrs. Hudson to bring up some tea and a mild broth and returned to the bedroom. Holmes was laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. A chill shook his body and Watson shook out the blanket, draping it over his friend.

“The room should warm up soon,” Watson said.

“Thank you. You’re far too good to me, Watson.”

“Just good enough.” Holmes looked like he was about to respond when he cupped his hands over his nose and mouth just in time to catch a wet AhhhHEHH-NKGtschhhew! “Bless you,” Watson said. “You keep your handkerchiefs in that bureau?” Holmes could only nod as his breath hitched and he sneezed again Hahh’Ngkchhshh!! Hhh-angstshhh!!Ngxtsshhh! Watson handed him a clean handkerchief and set several others on the bedside table next to him. “Bless.”

“I’m glad you’re here, doctor,” came Mrs. Hudson’s voice from the doorway. “He’s sounded dreadful for a week.”

“I have not,” Holmes said.

“Wandering around this drafty house sniffling and sneezing—taking no time to eat or sleep.” Watson resisted the urge to laugh as the housekeeper continued her monologue while setting up a tray with tea and chicken broth. Holmes sat up in the bed and she placed the tray on his lap, putting another pillow behind him to help prop him upright. “I’m just glad someone else is here to keep after him. Goodness knows I try and see what good it does? He’s impossible.”

“That he is,” Watson agreed.

“I most certainly am not.”

“Impossible,” she repeated.

“Thank you Mrs. Hudson,” Watson said. She nodded and left the room. He pulled up a chair next to the bed and fixed them each a cup of tea.

“She is insufferable,” Holmes mumbled.

“She cares is all. Now, you need to eat that broth.”

“Watson, I thought I made it perfectly clear I wasn’t hungry.”

“Really Holmes, if you want to recover from this cold there are certain things you simply must do. Eating is one. Resting is another. It’s just broth. Think of it as chicken-flavored tea.” Watson sat back in his chair and drank his tea, smiling at Holmes’ incredulous look. He sighed. “Fine. I’ll make you a deal,” Watson said. He reached into his bag and pulled out a small jar. “Do you know what this is?”

“I can only imagine it is something that you think you can use as lev…ehhh…eh – ehh…leverage to…” he had to stop as his nose once again filled with the overwhelming urge to sneeze. Ehh-Ih-Shtshhheew!! Kehstchhh!! KehhTSCHH!! Hehh…EhTSCHHH!!

“Bless you.”

Holmes nodded his thanks and took a moment to blow his nose before continuing.

“Forgive me. As I was saying it is something you think you can use as leverage to convince me to drink that vile concoction.”

“Vile concoction? It’s chicken broth.”

“Vile!”

“Fine. Eat at least half of it and I’ll give you this tonic which should help you get some much needed sleep.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You can continue your elusive hunt for rest.”

“You’re bluffing,” Holmes said.

“Am I?”

“Indeed you are. You said yourself that I need sleep in order to regain my health. You would not…Ahh-EHHKTSCHH! would not deny me something that would improve my odds of rehhhEHH’NGTCHH!! my odds of recovery. I could refuse to eat the soup and you would still give me the medication.” Ahh’Ehhtschhew! NKTschhew!!

“You think so?” Watson asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Well, you are certainly welcome to call my bluff,” Watson said, sipping his tea. Their eyes met for a moment—Watson’s calm with a trace of amusement and Holmes’ watery and dull. Finally, the latter picked up a spoon and reluctantly began eating the chicken broth. True to his word, as soon as he’d eaten half of it, Watson rewarded him with a spoonful of the sedative.

“I stand corrected,” Holmes said with a grimace. “That is a truly vile concoction."

“It’ll help,” Watson said and took the tray off the bed. He pressed his hand to Holmes’ forehead once more to check his temperature, finding little change. He pulled the blankets up over his friend’s shoulders and settled back into his chair at the side of the bed. “Want to tell me what’s been keeping awake all these nights?” He tried to make his question sound as casual as possible but he hoped to be able to figure out what was causing the other man’s insomnia. The mind of Sherlock Holmes was complex terrain to navigate, but Watson knew there was always a reason for his behavior. “Holmes?”

“I was merely contemplating my answer.”

“And?”

“No. I do not want to discuss it.”

“As you wish. Then would you like to tell me what that contraption is that you were tinkering with when I arrived?”

“Ah that, my dear Watson, is an intriguing little creation of my own design. You see…excuse me a moment…” his voice trailed as he picked his handkerchief up off the bed. EhhSCHEEW! Kehtschh!! Heh..hehhIHHSHHEW!!

“Bless you.”

“Thank you. As I was saying, our friend Lestrade has a safe that he and his team of professionals have been unable to crack. The criminal owner of said safe is refusing to give up the combination and so they’ve asked for my assistance. The device you saw me working on is designed to be inserted into the lock and amplify…” HehEHHTSHH!! He jerked forward with a harsh sneeze. Ahh-EHH’KTCHHEW!! And another. He coughed into the handkerchief. Watson frowned but waited until the coughing died down before handing Holmes his lukewarm tea from earlier. After a couple sips he was able to continue. “It amplifies the sound of the pin slipping into place so you can hear when you’ve turned the dial to the correct number.”

“Ingenious,” Watson said.

“I confess, I’m quite excited to put it to use.” Then an unexpected thing happened. Holmes shook with violent yawn.

“Medicine seems to be working,” Watson said.

“Indeed. I believe I might actually be able to sleep.”

“Close your eyes then, old friend. I’ll still be here when you wake.”

“As I said, too good to me.”

Edited January 8, 2012 by matilda3948

[queenie]

I love your characterization here! Holmes cocky and fiery, Watson kind but bemused. Funny and sweet and not OOC.

[VoOs]

*deep breath* -

Awwwwwwww. :wub:

That is all. ( )

[Zuki]

Yessss.

It's so lovely, please continue!

[The Sneezster]

This is a delightful story. I'd love to see what you would do with a full-of-cold Watson.

[Merino Sheep]

This story is simply brilliant. The characterization is spot on! Keep up the great work! =]

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

Late as always, but dropping in quickly to say that this is absolutely brilliant. I truly hope you write more...even if it takes me a while to get to see it.

[Cloud Dancing]

Considering you have never written in the fandom before this is bloody brilliant.

Characteristation is perfect and your descriptions are so yummy!

Just ...well done!

[SleepingPhlox]

Thanks for the heads up that you'd written something.  It took me a little looking but I found it!  I've read some of your Avengers stuff and loved it so I was really excited to read this.  And oh freaking wow, this.  Let me tell you, this brightened up an annoying afternoon in work and I couldn't wait to get home and comment on it.  This is exactly the sort of thing I wanted to read, pretty much served up on a silver platter.  Wow.  The characterisations are great and on a selfish note, this pretty much hits every button I have.  This is the good stuff, yes it is.

[Seeker]

This was really good! I have read many of the Sherlock stories (my uncle had the complete, annotated set and I read one half) and this fits right in! Great job