Sentiment || Sherlock Holmes

His Last Vow Part 1

"Right, are you concentrating yet?" John asked.

"You broke my arm." The man whined.

"No, I sprained it." John corrected.

"It feel squishy," The man complained. "Is it supposed to feel squishy? Feel that."

John touched his wrist. "Yeah, it's a sprain. I'm a doctor, I know how to sprain people. Now where is Isaac Whitney?"

"I don't know. Maybe upstairs."

"There you go. Wasn't that easy?" John patted the man's leg.

"No, it was really sore. Mental, you are." The man grumbled.

"No, just used to a better class of criminal." John said as he ascended the stairs to the second floor.

John passed through a room of junkies. They watched him pass with glassy eyes, sitting and laying upon dirty mattresses.

"Isaac?" John called. "Isaac Whitney?"

A young man raised his hand shakily from the corner. John walked over to him, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"Hello, mate." He said. "Sit up for me?"

Isaac groaned, the world spinning around him. "Dr. Watson?" He mumbled.

"Yep." John said, checking the boy's pupils.

"Where am I?" Isaac asked.

"Arse-end of the universe with the scum of the Earth. Look at me?" John said quietly.

"Have you come for me?" Isaac wondered.

"Do you think I know a lot of people here?" John joked. "Hey, you alright?"

The man in the bed next to Isaac sat up.

"Oh, hello John. Didn't expect to see you here. Come for me, too?"

The voice was that of Sherlock Holmes.

Outside, Mary watched the thin form of Isaac trudge towards the car.

"Hello, Isaac." She called.

"Mrs. Watson, can I...can I get in, please?" He mumbled.

"Yes, of course, get in." She insisted. "Where's John?"

"They're having a fight." Isaac said.

"Who is?" Mary asked, alarmed.

A panel of wood burst away from the upstairs entrance to the fire escape. Sherlock stumbled out.

"For God's sakes, John. I'm on a case." Sherlock shouted.

"A month, that's all it took. One!" John yelled back, following his friend towards the car.

"I'm working."

"Sherlock Holmes in a drug den, how is that going to look?" John bellowed.

"I'm undercover."

"No, you're not."

"Well, I'm not now" Sherlock yelled, throwing his hands up like a child.

Mary pulled the car up. "In, now, both of you. Quickly!" She shouted.

The man from the door ran over to them. "Please, can I come? I think I got a broken arm." He said.

"No, go away." Mary said.

"No, let him." John said.

"Why?"

John spoke to the man. "Get in, it's a sprain!"