daylyn

Title: August 1918: Renewal
Author: Daylyn
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, although actually in the public domain. No profit is intended.

Summary: Four years into the Great War, as influenza begins to sweep the land, Watson receives a visitor.

Author’s Note: This is a sequel to August 1912: Separation, August 1914: Reunion, and August 1916: Desolation, and is the fourth in a 5-part series titled The August Series, which captures moments in time, every other August, from 1912 to 1920 (from the time Holmes leaves for America through the aftermath of the World War I).

I finally finished this chapter. Now I know why I don't do WIP's -- it takes me forever to update. Sorry!


August 1918: Renewal
By Daylyn


The young man finally stopped coughing. I handed him a cloth and patted him on the shoulder. “Here you go, Johnson.”

He tried to smile. “Thank you, Dr. Watson.”

“You’re doing remarkably well,” said I as encouragingly as possible.

Both of our eyes darted to the empty bed next to him where a fellow soldier from his unit had succumbed to the dreaded Spanish influenza the night before.

“I hope so,” he whispered. I could hear the fear in his voice.

I did not like to make predictions, especially with a man’s life. I felt confident that young Johnson would recover, but there were too many complications and too much could go wrong. Besides, I had been wrong before. So I patted his shoulder again.

I felt utterly ineffectual.

My weariness threatened to overwhelm me. We had been fighting the flu for so many months now and with such limited success. I was also exhausted, I knew, both from my current 24 hour stint in the hospital as well as the four years of slogging through the War itself. I took a deep, steadying breath and then forced myself to turn my attention back to the young soldier before me.

“I am sorry to bother you, Dr. Watson,” the night nurse said as she interrupted my examination. “But there is a gentleman here to see you.”

I glanced to door that she indicated and there, standing at the entrance to the ward, was a tall, thin man whose dark hair had gone grey. He was wearing a surgical mask, as was required of anyone who was entering this flu-infested ward. I recognized him nonetheless. My heart gave a little beat.

I swallowed around the sudden dryness in my mouth as the bright grey eyes of Sherlock Holmes met my own from across the room.
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Title: August 1914: Reunion
Author: Daylyn
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, although actually in the public domain. No profit is intended.

Summary: Holmes returns to Watson’s life on the eve of the war.

Author’s Note: This is a sequel to August 1912: Separation, and is the second in a 5-part series titled (unoriginally) The August Series, which will capture moments in time, every other August, from 1912 to 1920 (from the time Holmes leaves for America through the aftermath of the Great War. (And yes, I have plans for the other three parts; now I just need to write them)).



August 1914: Reunion
Part 2 of the August Series
By Daylyn

I could barely contain my excitement when I received the wire.

Watson

Meet me at Harwich Station on 2 August with the car.
The game is still afoot.

[signed] Altamont

I smiled broadly, for it was obvious that Altamont was an alias for my dearest friend, Sherlock Holmes, returning to England after two years of secret work in America. I also rejoiced because he wished me to participate in whatever grand scheme he was planning.

I felt that twenty years of my life had just melted away, and I was transported back to the old days of our time in Baker Street. I was almost giddy with anticipation.

I informed my wife that I had business and may be away for a day or so. She looked at me suspiciously, but did not question me, for which I was grateful. After all, it was not that unusual for a doctor to spend significant time with a patient. Still believing that Holmes was in America, she had no inkling as to the true nature of my business.

I did, I admit, feel a sharp pang of guilt over my deception. Her dislike of Holmes was legendary; she had never forgiven him for my being shot during the matter of the three Garridebs. I fear that her resentment ran deeper, to an almost jealous competition for my affections. But I had never missed a direct summons from Sherlock Holmes to assist him on a case in over thirty years of our partnership, and I was not about to start.
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