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“Watson, when will you free my arm from its imprisonment?” Holmes grumbled.
“You still have to rest it for at least a few weeks, likely longer,” Watson said. “You hurt it quite badly, old man.”
Watson looked at Holmes’ wrapped arm and winced at the sight of the bruises peaking out from the edges of the bandages. Holmes had been lucky that he had not broken his arm, but Watson suspected there was likely a small crack in it based on the swelling and bruising on Holmes’ arm. Just to be safe, he had restricted Holmes’ activity with the arm until it healed. Normally, Watson would only restrict Holmes’ activity if absolutely necessary, but he knew Holmes would cope badly if his arm did end up broken due to straining the injury. That would be a much longer recovery with Holmes being completely unable to use his arm.
Watson looked towards the door when he heard footsteps and smiled as Mrs. Hudson walked into the sitting room. She had brought up ice wrapped in cloth for Watson to apply to Holmes’ arm. It was something they were having to do at least once a day and Watson did not even need to ask her to bring it up anymore.
Mrs. Hudson set the tray down on the table before approaching Holmes. “Oh Mr. Holmes, your poor arm,” she said as she looked at his wrapped arm. “You must be in pain, Sir. Has Dr. Watson been giving you pain medication?”
“Yes,” Holmes said. He sighed heavily. “Unfortunately not enough to knock me unconscious.”
“I know you are bored Holmes, but I cannot constantly sedate you,” Watson said, suppressing a chuckle.
“Why not?” Holmes asked.
“Because it’s not good for your health,” Watson said.
“My mind wasting away from boredom is also not good for my health,” Holmes grumbled.
“Oh dear, Mr. Holmes,” Mrs. Hudson interrupted. “Do listen to Dr. Watson, he’ll have you fixed up in no time. Once you’re recovered, you can play your violin for us again.”
Holmes looked longingly at his violin that had been untouched since he had been injured. Mrs. Hudson stepped forward and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder of his uninjured arm before stepping back.
“I hope that is enough ice, Dr. Watson. You can ring for me if you need more,” she said.
“I am sure that is enough ice for a year,” Homes said, eyeing the ice as if it had been the cause of his injury. “Must you subject me to more ice?”
“We have to try and control the swelling,” Watson said. “I know you do not tolerate ice well, old man, but it is necessary.”
Watson stood and retrieved the tray with the ice and brought it over to Holmes. He picked up a blanket from a nearby chair and laid it across Holmes’ lap, hoping it would help Holmes from getting too chilled.
Holmes did not look pleased about any of this, but he did not protest as Watson gently took his arm and began to unwrap the bandages around his arm. The bandages were not too tight due to the swelling and were mostly there to stabilize any possible internal injury in Holmes’ arm.
Watson could not help but wince at the state of Holmes’ arm as the bandages were removed. Deep black and purple bruising covered Holmes’ arm, particularly on his lower arm where he was hit with a heavy stick during a fight on his last case. Watson examined the injury as gently as he possibly could. It was clear the arm was paining Holmes, but he did not say anything as Watson did his examination. Luckily, it seemed the injury had not worsened. Watson picked up the cloth-wrapped ice and gently applied it on Holmes’ arm on the worst of the bruising.
Holmes winced and shivered when the cloth touched his skin. Watson knew how uncomfortable and even painful the ice would be for Holmes as he was quite sensitive to temperatures and tended to get chilled quite easily. Watson did not like that he had to do this so often and he knew Holmes did not like it either.
But despite this, Holmes had not protested the ice that much. He had certainly complained, but he had not tried to forbid Watson from using it. Watson knew Holmes trusted him, especially when it came to the matters of medicine, and it was always touching when Watson witnessed how deeply Holmes’ trust went for him. Holmes also tended to be uncomfortable with people invading in his space and yet Holmes did not seem the slightest bit uncomfortable with Watson standing so close to him.
It had taken years of friendship and partnership to build up this trust between them. Watson also trusted Holmes with everything and never hesitated to listen when Holmes told him to do something. Their years of work and companionship together had formed a deep bond between them both, something that was perhaps beyond friendship. It was certainly not romantic as neither Holmes nor Watson experienced that let alone had interest in it, but Watson did not exactly know what it was. He supposed it did not quite matter. They both had each other and that was all they needed.
“Watson,” Holmes murmured, interrupting Watson’s thoughts. “I am starting to get chilled.”
Watson immediately removed the ice from Holmes’ arm. He knew Holmes was likely quite chilled if he was admitting to it. He would have liked to ice the injury more, but the swelling was currently in control. Watson could always ice it more later if it was necessary.
Watson set the ice aside before walking over to the settee and retrieving a few blankets from it to bring over to Holmes. He laid another blanket over Holmes’ lap and wrapped a second blanket around Holmes’ shoulders. He then covered Holmes’ torso with a third blanket. After Holmes was sufficiently wrapped in blankets, Watson gently dried the moisture from the ice off of Holmes' arm before wrapping Holmes’ arm with clean bandages.
“How is that?” Watson asked once he was done.
“I am still frozen solid, but I believe I shall start thawing soon,” Holmes said, giving Watson a mischievous smile.
Watson smiled back. Holmes joking was certainly a good sign. He gently brushed a hand against Holmes’ face, unsurprised to feel that Holmes’ skin was cold. But it was not cold enough to be concerning.
Watson walked over to the fireplace and stoked the fire. Hopefully that would help Holmes warm up faster. He then made his way over to his armchair and sat down. Holmes immediately launched into conversation, describing the analysis of footprints he had done on his last case. Watson could not help but smile as he listened to Holmes. Besides the injury, this was the ideal way to spend an evening, together with his Holmes.