Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
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Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 10, 2012 16:44:35 GMT
My God, you're thick!
*puts the bins on either side of the door to hold it in place*
*speaking very quickly*
You can either stay here and learn how to defuse a bomb put possibly not because we only have about two minutes left now, or you can run and have guaranteed survival. Your choice.
*leaps onto the laundry hamper and up into the attic*
No good. No exposed wir--
*he hears a recording of Moriarty's laughter*
"Don't believe everything you see, Sherlock."
*grabs onto Harry and flings her to the ground, using himself as a shield*
*just as he does so, the bomb explodes, the shockwave, shrapnel, and falling debris knocking him unconscious on top of her and slicing through his coat and skin*
*the house is starting to catch fire*
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Jan 10, 2012 16:52:33 GMT
*There is a moment of silence then... *
Ow. Ow. Ow. * Harriet sits up, pulling Sherlock off her and onto his side, coughing and spluttering. *
Oh f**k. I've killed him. I've killed the world's only consulting detective.
*Harry presses her dust-covered fingers against his throat, and breathes a smoky sigh of relief. *
Sherlock? SHERLOCK?! Wake up, oh God wake UP! *Her voice is choked and rasping. Her lip is bleeding and she can feel a sharp pain in her left shin*
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
|
Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 10, 2012 17:02:58 GMT
*his breathing is ragged--some of the debris struck him in the side and may have broken a rib or two. He doesn't wake up*
*the fire is spreading and now the ceiling and walls are starting to go*
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Jan 10, 2012 17:09:42 GMT
Sherlock, can you hear me? Oh for God's sake. Come on.
*Agonisingly slowly, and well aware of the flames licking the wallpaper around her old bedroom, Harriet drags herself to her feet, pulling Sherlock up with her. She looks down - her left leg is drenched in blood, and a few of her fingers are definitely broken.
With painful steps, she starts towards the stairs. Coughing, she begins to drag herself and Sherlock downstairs, tugging his arm around her shoulders and wrapping her right arm around his waist.
Harry manages three, unbearably painful steps before she can't take another one. *
What...? Oh for crying out loud... *Looking back, she can see Sherlock's long dark coat, now covered in ash and a mixture of their blood, stuck underneath a large piece of ceiling. *
Lord forgive me for this... *She peels his coat off him, which is now smouldering, and continues downstairs. Finally they reach the bottom. *
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
|
Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 10, 2012 17:16:59 GMT
*part of his mind registers that he really should be getting up, but he can't*
*breathes in sharply and with a slight high-pitched moan as his broken ribs and dislocated shoulder are agitated by the way he's being manouvered*
*the fire is spreading quickly*
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Jan 10, 2012 17:22:54 GMT
*Coughing, choking and feeling a mix of blood and dust dribbling into her eye, Harriet heaves them both outside, laying Sherlock gently on the lawn outside. She rifles quickly through his pockets and finds his mobile in his jeans. She kneels next to him and dialls 999 while simultaneously checking his airway. *
Thank God for mandatory First Aid at Teacher Training
Fire brigade please. Yes, I've just driven past Cheviot Gardens in Hendon. I think there's been an explosion of some sort. Okay. Thank you.
* His airway's clear, but his breathing is still ragged. Harry starts feeling for broken bones - he gives an involuntary twitch as she brushes his shoulder. *
Oh Sherlock, lovely, this is going to hurt. I'm going to have to relocate your shoulder. Try to stay unconscious, and trust me. I've seen them do it on telly a thousand times.* [/i]
Ready? Good.
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
|
Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 10, 2012 17:38:27 GMT
*the sharp pain of the amateur relocation brought Sherlock back to his senses*
*he manages not to cry out, but it's a very near thing*
D-dislocated shoulder, three broken r-ribs, severe c-concussion, probably shock.
*weakly turns his head to look at Harry*
Broken f-fingers, possible mild-t-to moderate concussion. Who says ch-chivalry is dead?
*blinks unsteadily before passing out again*
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Jan 10, 2012 17:47:37 GMT
*Harriet rolls her eyes, before standing up and dusting herself off. She tries to step towards the road, with the intention of ringing a taxi, but she hasn't moved a step before she feels a sharp pain in her left leg. Apparently dulled by adrenalin, she hadn't noticed the source of the copious amounts of blood that were ruining her only pair of shoes.
Sticking horribly out from her leg is an ugly shaft of wood from the ceiling. Harry tries to put weight on it and nearly screams. Resisting the urge to faint, Harriet slowly sits down next to the unconscious Sherlock.*
I can't ring an ambulance, *She's beginning to cry now, more through desperation than pain* I'm sorry but I can't. It's too dangerous.
You can do this Harry. You can do this.
*Tears streaming down her filthy face, Harry examines the wound. It's not deep, not deep at all. Trying to recall John's medical posters that adorned his teenage bedroom, she figures it's far enough away from any major arteries, and, with her eyes closed and her teeth clenched, rips out the wood.*
OH SWEET JESUS MARY MOTHER OF CHRIST... *Opening one eye, she is relieved to see the outpouring of blood has not increased. She removes her cardigan and, wincing in pain, rips it in half, before binding her leg as best she can.
Harry turns towards the detective next to her. His breathing is steadier now, and there's more colour in his face. He coughs and his eyes begin to flicker*
Sherlock... Sherlock... Sh...
[/i] And with that, she faints. [/i]
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
|
Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 10, 2012 17:55:37 GMT
*opens his eyes, head ringing, and up not making sense. Between the pain from various injuries and his head telling him the world is spinning incorrectly, he has to physically fight the urge to vomit*
Also fractured vertebra, but not permanent.
*crawls over to phone and dials 999*
Yes. Uhhh...need...need ambul...
*a smaller explosion rocks the house and Sherlock turns to look too quickly, his head not recovered enough to do anything right, and he passes out yet again*
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Jan 10, 2012 18:04:24 GMT
* Two hours later, and Harriet begins to stir. She can feel soft sheets against her skin, and the taste of blood has gone from her mouth. Slowly, she allows her eyes to flicker open.
Hospital. She shudders, glancing around at the room. The blue starched curtains are drawn around her. There's a chart next to her bed and she grabs it, with freshly-bandaged fingers.
Name: Unknown Age: Late 20s - Unconfirmed Details: Broken fingers, mild concussion. Shallow wound in left leg. Six weeks pregnant.
Harry sighs and closes her eyes again. Then, her stomach lurches. The folder. She looks in the cabinet to her right, but it was empty except for an old gossip magazine. Where the hell is Sherlock?
Quietly and carefully, Harriet heaves herself out of bed and, leaning on the bed, towards the folded up wheelchair in the corner. She opens it and sits gently down, wincing. Her leg has been thoroughly bandaged, and it stings. She's wearing an attractive hospital gown.
With her tongue poking out her mouth determinedly, Harriet starts to wheel herself out of the cubicle. Nurses and Doctors are milling around, but no-one notices her.*
Where is he?
*Suddenly, Harry hears a strong, loud voice coming from a curtained cubicle across the hall. *
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
|
Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 10, 2012 18:30:07 GMT
Can't you just look it up? This isn't the first time I've been in hospital!
*winces as he has shifted wrong on his injured back*
*sees Harry roll in*
*voice dripping with crossness and sarcasm*
Oh, hello, glad you're feeling better, now that you've gone and got us blown up.
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Jan 10, 2012 18:34:36 GMT
*I* got us blown up? You're blaming *me*?! I've just dragged your limp - and extraordinarily heavy - body from a burning building, you could at least pretend to be grateful.
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
|
Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 10, 2012 18:42:47 GMT
We wouldn't have been there at all if you hadn't gotten yourself...involved with Moriarty!
*his pulse is rising quickly and he shuts his eyes for a moment*
I hope the trip was worth it. The hospital bill is going to fall under the category of "money spent on a case" and therefore, the client will probably be charged for it. I assume you got something other than another attempted murder to charge Moriarty with?
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Jan 10, 2012 18:53:57 GMT
Hospital bill? That was some bump... or don't you follow politics, Sherlock. The NHS will foot the bill, I'm sure.
The folder's in my bag. I think
She sighs. Her head is pounding, and the next words come out of her mouth babbled and rushed
And thank you, Sherlock.
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
|
Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 10, 2012 19:02:20 GMT
Politics. Boring.
*he flops his head back against the pillow and instantly regrets it*
You obviously missed the word "severe" in "severe concussion". Anyway, I'm glad you got something out of it. Now what do you plan on doing with it?
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