[Sherlock Holmes ACD] --- A true friend
Title: A true friend
Author: Alaylith
Rating: PG
Universe: ACD
Characters: Watson, Holmes
WordCount: 1.848
Summary: Watson returns from his club with a heavy heart, because he has to face the loss of a friend, but Holmes reassures him that he will always be there.
A/N: Based on personal experiences from the last few days... And before anyone wonders, money was NOT involved in reality. I just needed something for the story which could be similiar to what actually happened.
Needed to hear (or write) the words Holmes's spoke; it dulls the pain a bit at least... *sigh*
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It is a dark and cold night, the wind howling through the streets and the moon is hidden behind clouds.
It is with a heavy and saddened heart that I return to our rooms in Baker Street, my mind and soul burdened.
Mrs. Hudson is already asleep, as I stayed very long in my club and so I ascend the stairs as soundlessly as possible.
Reaching our sitting room, I notice that both doors to Holmes' bedroom are closed and as I can hear nothing from his room I assume that he also is asleep.
For a moment I consider walking up to my own bedroom, but the soft glow of the shimmering coals draw me to my chair.
I sit heavily, my body almost numb with cold and despair and I lean my head back, closing my eyes.
I may have fallen asleep or were just lost in my mind, but when I next open my eyes Holmes ist just bending over me to lower a blanket over my legs.
He looks up surprised, but then draws the blanket up to my chest. He wears his dressing gown and his hair is tousled, proof that he really was sleeping. "I thought you asleep, old chap."
I wearily rub my eyes, muttering a thanks for the blanket and Holmes frowns at me. I sigh, knowing that he will see the truth and do not even try to hide my lost expression.
His eyes sharpen, then he walks over to pour two glasses of brandy.
He hands me one and then sits in is own chair, we both looking at the glowing embers in the fireplace.
"What is wrong, Watson?" he asks after a few minutes and I sigh deeply, feeling the sadness within my bones.
"Nothing of importance, Holmes," I still answer, not willing to burden him with my problems.
"Nonsense, my dear fellow," he counters and looks sharply at me. "Anything that bothers you this much is of importance to me."
His words are painful, not because of him, but because of what is currently bothering me and I cringe unwillingly, prompting his look to change to concern. "Watson?"
Now that I have woken not only his curiosity, but also his worry, I do not stand a chance to let the matter drop.
"Do you remember Alan Edmondson?" I ask and I can see him turn the namer over.
"One of your friends from the club, if I am not mistaken," he finally answers and I nod slowly, thinking about how to put my misery into words.
Holmes observes me, puts down his glass and then leans forward, his grey eyes fixed on me.
"I asume he has gone too far now and has reached the limits of even your patience, my friend," he says and I look at him surprised.
"How...?" I murmur and Holmes dips his head, not a glimpse of satisfaction of deducing my thoughts on his face.
"I have been able to observe that there is a growing reluctance of you to visit your club over the past few weeks, maybe even months.
Especially on those days that you know for certain that Mr. Edmondson is there as well.
While you never talk much about your time at the club or your acquaintances, you still mention the men you meet occassionally.
But you stopped mentioning Mr. Edmondson and your last few mentions of the man were always tinged with a touch of sadness and anger.
I know you and the kind of man you are, my dear friend, as such it is not difficult for me to see that Mr. Edmondson did things to anger and to sadden you.
And also to hurt you," he adds the last lowly and I sigh shakingly.
"I am such an open book to you, Holmes," I mumur and he nods gently. "Only because I learned how to read you, Watson."
I smile a bit, feeling warmed by his words, but then I drop my eyes again.
"I can not even remember when or how it started, but we started to disagree on topics, we started to argue and he never really listened.
He took certain things for granted, like me being of the same opinion like him, me doing the things that he wanted.
I did not think much about it, but I grew weary of his behaviour and he also started several arguments and fights with some of the other members.
I was always somehow in the middle, on the one side not willing to abandon him but on the other side I knew that he was not always right.
Then a few weeks ago he lost several bets and needed money, so he asked me if I could lend him some."
I look back up to see Holmes' expression, but his face remains a blank mask.
"I remember you having a few difficulties with your finances a while ago," he speaks the words without accusation or judgement, but I still feel the heat rising in my cheeks.
It was nothing drastic, the drain on my money was just a nuisance, but it was enough for me to have to be careful with my expenses.
I had been unable to eat out as often as we do or visit the theatre, but Holmes wished my company and so he paid a few times for me.
He reassured me that it was no bother to him and that I earned my share of his wages as I am a partner on his cases, nevertheless it shamed me - and still does - to have been so dependent on him.
Not willing to linger, I hasten to continue. "It was not much and I had no trouble lending him the money and he never asked again.
Then today..."
I have to swallow remembering the evening, still feeling the stab of hurt - and more importantly - betrayal in my heart.
"Some of the other approached me and told me that apparently for the last few weeks Alan had continued his bets, even though he was unable to pay his debts.
When asked he told everyone that I would pay for him and..."
I choke, for the first time this evening actually feeling the betrayal over the pain and turn my head away before Holmes can see it.
"The others tried to tell him that that is not true and he should stop, but he assured them that he knew me and knew what I want.
Most did not take his bets and those that did and won did not bothered to actually ask me for the money, because they knew that I never agreed to such a thing.
It's just that..." I falter again, wiping a hand over my face, unable to find the right words for this.
"He took you for granted and abused your trust," Holmes finally states. "And in doing so, he hurt you."
I nod mutely, unable to form any words and I hear the rustle of his dressing gown as he rises from his chair.
The next moment I can feel his hand on my shoulder. "What happened next, Watson?"
I shudder and lower my hand from my face, my eyes still turned to the ground.
"The others have been talking for days and they decided that Alan has to leave the club, even though he has been a member for so many years.
They just can no longer take his attitude and behaviour, as he started to harm more and more people with it.
Tomorrow they are going to tell him and they wanted to warn me and also... they wish me to attend, because they know that Alan will believe that I am one of the few still on his side.
But..."
"But you no longer are," Holmes finishes for me gently, his hand on my shoulder a warm spot on my chilled body. "Now you are dreading tomorrow's confrontation."
I nod, my eyes wandering to the coals in the fireplace. "And I am also sad, knowing that after tomorrow he no longer will be my friend."
"He already is not your friend anymore, Watson", Holmes says and then kneels down to look into my downcast eyes, his expression full of compassion.
"You may still be his friend, Watson and quite possible will be forever, but he stopped being your friend the moment he no longer cared about his actions hurting you.
And deep down you know that it is time to say goodbye and also that it is the best."
"Best for whom?" I ask, looking at him feeling like a child lost in a storm. "He will consider this a betrayal, in his eyes I will turn into a traitor and I will be the one to hurt him.
As his friend it is my duty-"
"Stop, Watson," Holmes interrupts me gently, but sternly. He raises his other hand to grasp both of my shoulders.
"Watson, your loyality is admirable, but there comes a time when even the most unselfish person I know must be selfish.
The man you still consider your friend is hurting you, does not care about you and other friends have to try and to protect you from him.
That is no longer friendship, Watson and it definitely is not anything you deserve."
He sighs and lowers his head, his grey eyes growing distant. "If I should ever happen to be the same to you, I pray that you will do the right thing and leave.
I could not bear to be the cause of such pain to you."
Tears sting my eyes, as my heart finally understands what my mind has already known for weeks and also for the words of my closest and best friend.
I put one of my own hands upon one of Holmes's and smile warmly at him.
"And that is the reason why I am never going to leave, Holmes."
He looks back up to me, searches my face and then returns my smile. He claps my shoulders and rises again to walk back to his chair.
"What are you going to do?" he asks after a few minutes of silence and I sigh deeply.
"I will be there tomorrow and I will do the right thing. But it is going to be a very painful decision."
"As it should be," Holmes says and I look at him surprised. "You would not be the good man you are if you were unaffected by such things.
It is also the mark of a true friend, because only a true friend continues to love one even though one no longer deserve it.
That is the reason why I am and always will feel honoured to call you mine."
I smile warmly, ignoring the tears rolling down my cheeks and lean back in my seat to enjoy the time with my friend.
Whatever the next day may bring, I know that no matter what happens, one true friend will always be waiting for me.
And in the end that is all I need.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author: Alaylith
Rating: PG
Universe: ACD
Characters: Watson, Holmes
WordCount: 1.848
Summary: Watson returns from his club with a heavy heart, because he has to face the loss of a friend, but Holmes reassures him that he will always be there.
A/N: Based on personal experiences from the last few days... And before anyone wonders, money was NOT involved in reality. I just needed something for the story which could be similiar to what actually happened.
Needed to hear (or write) the words Holmes's spoke; it dulls the pain a bit at least... *sigh*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It is a dark and cold night, the wind howling through the streets and the moon is hidden behind clouds.
It is with a heavy and saddened heart that I return to our rooms in Baker Street, my mind and soul burdened.
Mrs. Hudson is already asleep, as I stayed very long in my club and so I ascend the stairs as soundlessly as possible.
Reaching our sitting room, I notice that both doors to Holmes' bedroom are closed and as I can hear nothing from his room I assume that he also is asleep.
For a moment I consider walking up to my own bedroom, but the soft glow of the shimmering coals draw me to my chair.
I sit heavily, my body almost numb with cold and despair and I lean my head back, closing my eyes.
I may have fallen asleep or were just lost in my mind, but when I next open my eyes Holmes ist just bending over me to lower a blanket over my legs.
He looks up surprised, but then draws the blanket up to my chest. He wears his dressing gown and his hair is tousled, proof that he really was sleeping. "I thought you asleep, old chap."
I wearily rub my eyes, muttering a thanks for the blanket and Holmes frowns at me. I sigh, knowing that he will see the truth and do not even try to hide my lost expression.
His eyes sharpen, then he walks over to pour two glasses of brandy.
He hands me one and then sits in is own chair, we both looking at the glowing embers in the fireplace.
"What is wrong, Watson?" he asks after a few minutes and I sigh deeply, feeling the sadness within my bones.
"Nothing of importance, Holmes," I still answer, not willing to burden him with my problems.
"Nonsense, my dear fellow," he counters and looks sharply at me. "Anything that bothers you this much is of importance to me."
His words are painful, not because of him, but because of what is currently bothering me and I cringe unwillingly, prompting his look to change to concern. "Watson?"
Now that I have woken not only his curiosity, but also his worry, I do not stand a chance to let the matter drop.
"Do you remember Alan Edmondson?" I ask and I can see him turn the namer over.
"One of your friends from the club, if I am not mistaken," he finally answers and I nod slowly, thinking about how to put my misery into words.
Holmes observes me, puts down his glass and then leans forward, his grey eyes fixed on me.
"I asume he has gone too far now and has reached the limits of even your patience, my friend," he says and I look at him surprised.
"How...?" I murmur and Holmes dips his head, not a glimpse of satisfaction of deducing my thoughts on his face.
"I have been able to observe that there is a growing reluctance of you to visit your club over the past few weeks, maybe even months.
Especially on those days that you know for certain that Mr. Edmondson is there as well.
While you never talk much about your time at the club or your acquaintances, you still mention the men you meet occassionally.
But you stopped mentioning Mr. Edmondson and your last few mentions of the man were always tinged with a touch of sadness and anger.
I know you and the kind of man you are, my dear friend, as such it is not difficult for me to see that Mr. Edmondson did things to anger and to sadden you.
And also to hurt you," he adds the last lowly and I sigh shakingly.
"I am such an open book to you, Holmes," I mumur and he nods gently. "Only because I learned how to read you, Watson."
I smile a bit, feeling warmed by his words, but then I drop my eyes again.
"I can not even remember when or how it started, but we started to disagree on topics, we started to argue and he never really listened.
He took certain things for granted, like me being of the same opinion like him, me doing the things that he wanted.
I did not think much about it, but I grew weary of his behaviour and he also started several arguments and fights with some of the other members.
I was always somehow in the middle, on the one side not willing to abandon him but on the other side I knew that he was not always right.
Then a few weeks ago he lost several bets and needed money, so he asked me if I could lend him some."
I look back up to see Holmes' expression, but his face remains a blank mask.
"I remember you having a few difficulties with your finances a while ago," he speaks the words without accusation or judgement, but I still feel the heat rising in my cheeks.
It was nothing drastic, the drain on my money was just a nuisance, but it was enough for me to have to be careful with my expenses.
I had been unable to eat out as often as we do or visit the theatre, but Holmes wished my company and so he paid a few times for me.
He reassured me that it was no bother to him and that I earned my share of his wages as I am a partner on his cases, nevertheless it shamed me - and still does - to have been so dependent on him.
Not willing to linger, I hasten to continue. "It was not much and I had no trouble lending him the money and he never asked again.
Then today..."
I have to swallow remembering the evening, still feeling the stab of hurt - and more importantly - betrayal in my heart.
"Some of the other approached me and told me that apparently for the last few weeks Alan had continued his bets, even though he was unable to pay his debts.
When asked he told everyone that I would pay for him and..."
I choke, for the first time this evening actually feeling the betrayal over the pain and turn my head away before Holmes can see it.
"The others tried to tell him that that is not true and he should stop, but he assured them that he knew me and knew what I want.
Most did not take his bets and those that did and won did not bothered to actually ask me for the money, because they knew that I never agreed to such a thing.
It's just that..." I falter again, wiping a hand over my face, unable to find the right words for this.
"He took you for granted and abused your trust," Holmes finally states. "And in doing so, he hurt you."
I nod mutely, unable to form any words and I hear the rustle of his dressing gown as he rises from his chair.
The next moment I can feel his hand on my shoulder. "What happened next, Watson?"
I shudder and lower my hand from my face, my eyes still turned to the ground.
"The others have been talking for days and they decided that Alan has to leave the club, even though he has been a member for so many years.
They just can no longer take his attitude and behaviour, as he started to harm more and more people with it.
Tomorrow they are going to tell him and they wanted to warn me and also... they wish me to attend, because they know that Alan will believe that I am one of the few still on his side.
But..."
"But you no longer are," Holmes finishes for me gently, his hand on my shoulder a warm spot on my chilled body. "Now you are dreading tomorrow's confrontation."
I nod, my eyes wandering to the coals in the fireplace. "And I am also sad, knowing that after tomorrow he no longer will be my friend."
"He already is not your friend anymore, Watson", Holmes says and then kneels down to look into my downcast eyes, his expression full of compassion.
"You may still be his friend, Watson and quite possible will be forever, but he stopped being your friend the moment he no longer cared about his actions hurting you.
And deep down you know that it is time to say goodbye and also that it is the best."
"Best for whom?" I ask, looking at him feeling like a child lost in a storm. "He will consider this a betrayal, in his eyes I will turn into a traitor and I will be the one to hurt him.
As his friend it is my duty-"
"Stop, Watson," Holmes interrupts me gently, but sternly. He raises his other hand to grasp both of my shoulders.
"Watson, your loyality is admirable, but there comes a time when even the most unselfish person I know must be selfish.
The man you still consider your friend is hurting you, does not care about you and other friends have to try and to protect you from him.
That is no longer friendship, Watson and it definitely is not anything you deserve."
He sighs and lowers his head, his grey eyes growing distant. "If I should ever happen to be the same to you, I pray that you will do the right thing and leave.
I could not bear to be the cause of such pain to you."
Tears sting my eyes, as my heart finally understands what my mind has already known for weeks and also for the words of my closest and best friend.
I put one of my own hands upon one of Holmes's and smile warmly at him.
"And that is the reason why I am never going to leave, Holmes."
He looks back up to me, searches my face and then returns my smile. He claps my shoulders and rises again to walk back to his chair.
"What are you going to do?" he asks after a few minutes of silence and I sigh deeply.
"I will be there tomorrow and I will do the right thing. But it is going to be a very painful decision."
"As it should be," Holmes says and I look at him surprised. "You would not be the good man you are if you were unaffected by such things.
It is also the mark of a true friend, because only a true friend continues to love one even though one no longer deserve it.
That is the reason why I am and always will feel honoured to call you mine."
I smile warmly, ignoring the tears rolling down my cheeks and lean back in my seat to enjoy the time with my friend.
Whatever the next day may bring, I know that no matter what happens, one true friend will always be waiting for me.
And in the end that is all I need.
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