Chapter Notes: Experimented with a new style of story telling. I tried to simulate the addled mind of someone suffering from blood loss and shock. It might seem disjointed and incomplete but bear in mind the man was fading in and out of consciousness.

This was written for the Christmas fic exchange this was the Wish:

Despite the pain and blood-loss he reached Baker Street ahead of his assailants, his last conscious thought being relief that his flat-mate was a doctor as skilled with a revolver as with a bandage.

Thanks for reading!


The Baker Street Gang


PAIN never ending burning in back, must get home…

Blacked out a bit didn't I? mustn't do that again or they'll catch me…

Coming up the back way through the mews, maybe they'll…

stumble…falling forward can't catch myself in time…crawling across the patch…up the stairs painful inches…

no strength for breath to call out or bang it

last of strength…grab that rock...


"Who the blazes knocked out my window, if it's Billy you better na be playing cricket in the back…Oh my God! Doctor! It's Mister Holmes!"

darkness coming, trying to hold on…must tell them

strong arms picking me up

"What did you do this time, old boy, let's get you in the light."

I finally manage to rasp…

"They're coming…killed a constable I…whole gang after me…only fifteen minutes behind…don't worry about me…get Mrs. Hudson safe…grab revolvers…"

darkness coming on the edges, he's carrying me up the stairs

"221b is easier to defense, higher ground, get you safe Mrs. Hudson, I insist!"

"I don't care Doctor, they'll na be forcing me from my own Home, you'll need my help, tell me what to do!"

lying on my chest, my shirt is off, how did I get here?

"You know Holmes, for future reference, If you are going to be shot in the back this is not entirely a bad place, missed the spine and the kidneys, I've just about got the bullet out, so do pass out again and I'll be finished…there's a lad."

I oblige him

loud sound wakes me

"That was just your hat, if you want me to aim lower come on up!"

"Constables are busy with that fire we set, there is nobody coming to your rescue, send Holmes out and we'll let you and the old lady go."

"Bullocks, you'll kill us all, I have the high ground and an easy corridor to defend, I survived blokes are cake. Doubt me at your peril."

trying to hold on…must help…gah!

"Here's the next revolver, nice and loaded, Doctor."

"Mrs. Hudson, window!"

BONG! "I hope I don't dent my new cast iron skillet, I make corn cakes with that!"

"You're doing great, dear lady, just don't silhouette yourself."

BANG! "Got another one, these blokes are not learning fast enough, they're piling up like cord wood down there."

darkness swirling currents…want to claim me, I try to fight…

"Why didn't you summon a constable?"

"We had no time, Lestrade, Holmes said they were coming and already killed a constable he tried to summon."

"It was Blakley sir, killed him three blocks over, shot through the forehead."

"Well in that case, Doctor, we can over look the…how many so far PC?"

"We've got six casualties down there, sir, two dead, others shot though the shoulders and knees, and a couple with what looks to be severe head injuries."

"Mrs. Hudson swings a mean skillet."

"What about Holmes?"

"He's stable; I'll keep him here where I can lash him to the bed."

"Need to borrow my bracelets?"

"We've got a pair, already."

"It's a good thing you're as handy with a revolver as you are with a bandage, Doctor."

"Evidently not for the Browning Gang."

"It looks like Holmes has a gang of his own!"

darkness returning…this time I don't fight


Story Notes: I think I like the idea of Mrs. Hudson in her skillet, it made me smile at least LOL!

A gang is a tight knit group of individuals organized around mutual goals, as I have said before my version of Watson is a BAD man!

thanks for reading!