The World in a Flower
Title: The World in a Flower
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Characters: S. Holmes, J. Watson, S. Hopkins, OC (Elizabeth Holmes)
Table: Five
Prompt: #98. Writer's Choice (Plant)
Word Count: 347 words
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "Do not question me, Doctor. Just do as I say."
Author's Notes: Warnings, alternative universe (ehc), mentions of violence.
Holmes studied the trampled remains of the flowerbeds that surrounded the house.
"Did they trample the flowers as well as any evidence to be had on the path, Holmes?" Watson asked.
"The flowers were like that when we got here, Doctor," Inspector Stanley Hopkins said in lieu of a greeting.
Not that the inspector was expected to greet the detective and the doctor with a proper greeting, not at 3:30 in the morning.
"Why take the risk of being caught to trample the flowers?" Holmes mused aloud.
"Maybe he didn't like them?" Hopkins suggested, but the detective ignored him, having spotted something amid the trampled plants that sent his mind reeling.
"Holmes, what is it?" the doctor worriedly asked, sensing his friend's sudden tension.
"Watson, I need you to go back to Baker Street immediately," the detective replied.
"Why?" the doctor demanded.
"Do not question me, Doctor," Holmes growled, his voice taunt with suppressed fear. "Just do as I say."
~*~
When Watson returned to 221 Baker Street, he found the front door ajar.
"Hello?" Watson called out. "Mrs. Hudson? Elizabeth? Anyone home?"
There was no answer, no response to his raised voice. At least, not at first. After a minute or so, Watson heard the sound of movement coming from the sitting room upstairs. The sound had been so faint, so weak that the doctor initially thought that he had imagined it. Investigation of the sound revealed a badly injured Elizabeth, drifting in and out of consciousness as she struggled to slow the flow of blood from a gaping wound in her side.
"Elizabeth!" exclaimed Watson as he rushed to her side, his black bag somehow already at hand, its latches and handle sticky with the young girl's blood.
"Doctor?" questioned Elizabeth, her voice thick with drowsiness from massive blood loss. "Where's Sherlock?"
"At a crime scene, but what happened here? Where's Mrs. Hudson?" the doctor demanded.
"She gone to get a doctor," Elizabeth replied, her anemic state causing her to carelessly disregard basic rules of grammar for an instant. "As for what happened, I was attacked."
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Characters: S. Holmes, J. Watson, S. Hopkins, OC (Elizabeth Holmes)
Table: Five
Prompt: #98. Writer's Choice (Plant)
Word Count: 347 words
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "Do not question me, Doctor. Just do as I say."
Author's Notes: Warnings, alternative universe (ehc), mentions of violence.
Holmes studied the trampled remains of the flowerbeds that surrounded the house.
"Did they trample the flowers as well as any evidence to be had on the path, Holmes?" Watson asked.
"The flowers were like that when we got here, Doctor," Inspector Stanley Hopkins said in lieu of a greeting.
Not that the inspector was expected to greet the detective and the doctor with a proper greeting, not at 3:30 in the morning.
"Why take the risk of being caught to trample the flowers?" Holmes mused aloud.
"Maybe he didn't like them?" Hopkins suggested, but the detective ignored him, having spotted something amid the trampled plants that sent his mind reeling.
"Holmes, what is it?" the doctor worriedly asked, sensing his friend's sudden tension.
"Watson, I need you to go back to Baker Street immediately," the detective replied.
"Why?" the doctor demanded.
"Do not question me, Doctor," Holmes growled, his voice taunt with suppressed fear. "Just do as I say."
~*~
When Watson returned to 221 Baker Street, he found the front door ajar.
"Hello?" Watson called out. "Mrs. Hudson? Elizabeth? Anyone home?"
There was no answer, no response to his raised voice. At least, not at first. After a minute or so, Watson heard the sound of movement coming from the sitting room upstairs. The sound had been so faint, so weak that the doctor initially thought that he had imagined it. Investigation of the sound revealed a badly injured Elizabeth, drifting in and out of consciousness as she struggled to slow the flow of blood from a gaping wound in her side.
"Elizabeth!" exclaimed Watson as he rushed to her side, his black bag somehow already at hand, its latches and handle sticky with the young girl's blood.
"Doctor?" questioned Elizabeth, her voice thick with drowsiness from massive blood loss. "Where's Sherlock?"
"At a crime scene, but what happened here? Where's Mrs. Hudson?" the doctor demanded.
"She gone to get a doctor," Elizabeth replied, her anemic state causing her to carelessly disregard basic rules of grammar for an instant. "As for what happened, I was attacked."