Lestrade POV

I decided that I would stop by Baker Street to check in on Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson the following day. My schedule was packed full with an abundance of appointments so I would have to stop by early, and that is precisely what I did. At about nine o'clock in the morning I found myself at the door to 221 Baker Street, where Mrs. Hudson promptly ushered me indoors. I turned to her and gave her a grateful nod. It was then that I noticed the worry etched on to her face, as well as the dark lines under her eyes which spike of lack of sleep. How bad could Holmes' condition be? I thought to myself.

Mrs. Hudson must have recognized the questioning look upon my features, for when we reached the top of the stairs she paused at the door to 221b her hand resting on the handle. The good landlady turned to me and spoke gravely.

" I must warn you, Mr. Holmes is in a bad condition, I have never seen him so worse for wear."

Mrs. Hudson opened the door and I followed her through the sitting room and over to the strong wooden door that resided on the opposite wall. I assumed it must be Holmes' room.

"Doctor Watson" she called out softly, rapping her knuckles on the door. "Inspector Lestrade is here to see you."

To that there came no reply, so Mrs. Hudson slowly twisted the handle opening the door, before quickly stepping out of the way so that I could enter the room.

I did so and I saw a most singular scene, it appeared that both of them were asleep. Doctor Watson sat in a chair by the bed, it seemed as though he had fallen forward in his sleep, for his head rested on the mattress by Mr. Holmes' chest. I noticed that Doctor Watson was also holding the hand of the great detective in his own.

The good doctor woke with a start as I entered the room, and hurriedly jumped up embarrassed or perhaps concerned with propriety and the assumptions that could be formed.

Regardless of the speed at wich he had departed his chair, I noticed how he gently returned the limp hand that he had been holding only moments before, back to the detective's side. Holmes did not stir. In fact Mr. Holmes' entire visage was disconcertingly calm, yet the gentle rising and falling of his chest was quite reassuring.

The doctor had his back turned to me and I watched as he took a wash cloth from the nearby water basin, wiping away the feverish sweat from his friends face and brushing his hair back from his eyes with such care, care that spoke of the great friendship that existed and flourished between the two men.

Doctor Watson looked at him with a great kindness in his eyes and I felt as though I didn't belong there, as though I was interrupting something. I cleared my throat breaking the awkward silence. Watson turned to me as if seeing me for the first time since I had entered the room.

" Inspector" he nodded his head towards me " How can I help you?" he spoke in a hushed whisper and walked over to me so that I could hear.

" If you have come to consult him on a case, I am afraid that it is entirely impossible at the moment, and that I must ask you to..."

" No, no" I assured him profusely " I did not come on a case."

Watson eyed me suspiciously.

" I merely came to speak with you." I continued earnestly.

" Alright, I will meet you in the study, you will excuse me for a minute." His voice was surprisingly shaky.

" Yes, yes of course."

I turned around before leaving and saw the Doctor drape a cool cloth on the Detective's forehead. Mr. Holmes was very lucky to have such a friend. I stood silently as Watson fell down into the chair, his head in his hands, and was it just my imagination of were his broad shoulders shaking. I didn't stay to find out, I decided that the man need his privacy, and I would give him all the time he needed, he deserved it. I quietly closed the door behind me and walking in to the study, I took a seat in one of the comfortable armchairs. Going over the events of the past week in my head.

Sorry it took so long to update. Thanks for reading, please review if you get the chance.