I steadily recovered over the next few weeks. Watson and Mrs. Hudson kept a close eye on me and I was secretly glad for their concern, though I'd never admit it. Watson's memory hadn't come back in full during the incident with the cocaine but his doctor assured me that he was making excellent progress. Apparently, seeing me in dire need had been enough to jar most of his medical knowledge to the surface.

One evening, I sat in my favorite armchair, eyeing the needle. Watson sat across from me, staring disapprovingly at the syringe. "Did you do it on purpose, Holmes?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Watson."

"Take an overdose."

I considered this for a moment, not certain whether I should be offended or touched. Evidently, Watson wouldn't put it past me to take an overdose just to bring his memory back. "No." I said finally. Honestly. The word surprised even me and I had to stop and consider. Then I remembered. I had measured out a dose some hours before I took the overdose. Mr. Allerton. I'd been in such a state that I didn't even check the dosage. Shaking my head in disgust, I relayed this information to Watson.

"But why would Mr. Allerton want to kill you?" I noted that Watson went straight for the worse case scenario.

"I'm not sure that he did." I admitted. "But I know that he measured the overdose. I have Wiggins to thank for that."

Watson didn't look convinced. "Well at least…" he seemed to wrestle with himself for a conclusion to the sentence. When none seemed to satisfy him, he looked up at me and sighed.

"Well, what have we learned from this?" I said, in a mock disapproving tone.

"I can't leave you alone for a moment, Holmes." Sighs Watson. "You simply get into too much trouble on your own."

Authors Notes: Thank you to all my loyal readers! I'm sorry this conclusion took forever to finish. Stay tuned for updates on my Holmes/Poirot crossover!