Proper Summary: Just so you know where I am going with this, here's an explanation. This is an altered universe where John works at a mental hospital privately owned by Mycroft and supported by several benefactors. Sherlock is indeed a patient within, but so are some other familliar faces. The characters are very simular to the real deal, the only things that have changed are their life circumstances and the effect it has on their personalities. The genre is horror/suspense because things are going to go very wrong and get rather complicated. It'll probably play out like a deadly game of cat and mouse, only there are two cats and one mouse...

Also, this isn't a super-slashy fic, it's only going to get as spicy as the show (but like the series, the romantic possiblities are going to be up in the air). Feel free to suggest, comment, complain, and question through PM or review. I live off of feedback in order to get better, so please do drop me a note, I will love you for always. I Hope you enjoy this twisted tale.

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Chapter One

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"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity." - Edgar Allan Poe

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A clock ticked somewhere out of sight, marking the seconds like a dripping faucet. With his eyelids heavy, the former soldier leaned back on the uncomfortable metal bench and placed his head against the wall. Beside him, his friend ran a hand through curly hair and bit his lower lip as if to stop nattering to fill the silence. It worked for a solid minute, but in the end he gave in - as he always did.

"I'm sure it'll be fine John... I mean, we fit the bill perfectly don't we? Got some muscle to us... we have the training... you have a way with people... I can be charming..." The man was rambling and it made the other lift his head from the wall and give him a reassuring smile.

"Bill, even if it's not fine, there's plenty of other jobs out there."

He was lying.

John generally didn't lie to his friends, but something about this assignment had him looking for the exit signs. The advertisement in the paper was tasteful, professional and very appealing to a poor man on an army pension; yet his gut told him there was something wrong - very wrong about the work. John didn't know if it was something bad about to happen, or it was something to do with his potential employers, but he wanted out and he wasn't even in yet.

If only there was a way of explaining himself to Bill. He couldn't walk away from what looked like well-paid work, just based on his unfounded paranoia. Bill knew him as the sort of man who would hunker down and face anything with a brave face. If he turned his back now, John would never hear the end of it.

Run while you still can John. Never mind Bill, he can look after himself.

His head was starting to pound and the doctor rubbed the bridge of his nose impatiently. Why was Bill so bloody chuffed to work in an asylum anyway?

"Listen, I'm going to only wait five more minutes. I'm having second thoughts..." John was saying just as door opened off of the long white hallway they were seated in. Both men lapsed back into silence and turned their heads just as a very pretty girl with straight teeth peered out and smiled at the both of them. John suddenly felt claustrophobic, even though the hospital corridors were rather spacious. This was a trap. Some sort of ambush.

You've been a solder for far too long John.

"Bill Murray and John Watson I presume?" She was stunning, and John wondered why a model was playing secretary in a place such as this.

"Yes, that's us!" Bill said, always eager to get things moving. He stood and gave John a sly wink before going over to the girl and chatting her up. John sighed and followed, suddenly finding himself the third wheel. It was always like this with Bill. Once a woman with a flirty look passed his way, everything else just faded away.

She led them both through the doorway and into a large office that was surprisingly bare. There was a door off to the left that peaked John's curiosity for he couldn't guess where it could lead. He would have said it was an attached closet space, but the light under the door frame suggested otherwise. His eyes were drawn from it to a hardwood chair as their escort gestured to it with a tilt to her head. "Please sit. Mr. Holmes will be with you shortly. Would either of you like a cup of tea?"

The two of them accepted the offer and watched her leave through the mysterious door, leaving them waiting in the suspenseful quiet yet again. John was starting to feel the paranoia creeping into his thoughts for a second time, though Bill seemed a lot more relaxed now that there were some hormones in circulation.

"Did you see the smile on that one? She was cute... this job just keeps looking better and better!"

John didn't comment. He knew better than to encourage Bill to chase a skirt at what would most likely be their future workplace.

They waited a few more minutes before a man dressed in a plain grey suit strode in and appraised the pair as if they were merely cattle. His face was striking, as if carved out of stone since it rarely left the stoic expression it defaulted to. He sat down on the other side of the barren oak desk, appearing like an ordinary gentlemen in his mannerisms, but those eyes haunted John. They seemed like the eyes of a higher being – cold and all knowing. To this man, John was just cattle and rightly so. The difference in intellectual prowess was immeasurable, and John figured it out before the man had said a word.

"Good evening Doctor Watson, Mister Murray." He looked at them in turn and smiled diplomatically. "I have read both your resumes and gathered from your records that you are fetching candidates for the position I have available. I am willing to hire you on as attendants, if you find the paperwork to your advantage." At this he turned around and withdrew a folder from a large cabinet. It contained two booklets that John and Bill were expected to read. John was the first to pick his up and leaf through it. As he did so, the pretty girl came back with a tea tray and set it delicately on the desk. She gave a brief nod to her employer before she exited just as quickly as she came. Over the top of the page John was examining, he noticed Bill's eyes follow the secretary on the way out. He cleared his throat so that their potential employer wouldn't catch the man oogling his underlings.

"Code and conduct... workplace safety... and waivers?" John paused at the last few sheets. There were a few that made his eyebrows raise; apparently the institution wasn't responsible for any harm inflicted by patients. It stuck him as odd. How many occurances did they need before they had decided they couldn't pay the worker's compensation? He lowered the papers and fixed Mr. Holmes with a curious stare. "And patient confidentiality? I was under the impression were were attendants, not psychologists or GP's"

"The contract at the end clearly defines your expected duties Dr. Watson. You will find that some of our patients do quite a lot of talking, and some things are not for layman's ears. If you do happen to overhear anything of interest, I trust that you will keep it to yourselves." The way Mr. Holmes spoke was mesmerizing; it was as if everything was fact and he were daring the world to prove it otherwise.

"I see." John read his booklet in silence as Bill negotiated wages and asked questions about hypothetical situations and potential benefits. Occasionally John would ask for clarification of a term in his contract, but in the end he couldn't find anything that he could use to turn down the job. All in all, it seemed very suited to him. The pay was almost too good, but not sweet enough to arouse John's already stirring suspicions past the breaking point. He set down the paperwork just as Mr. Holmes offered him a pen.

"Welcome aboard Doctor."

John stared into the dark eyes staring back at him. There was a tiny bit of mischievousness in that thin lipped grin that set the hairs on the back of the doctor's neck on end. Why did he feel like he was being railroaded down a path he wouldn't normally travel?

"I haven't even signed yet..." He muttered quietly before slowly signing his name in the thirteen different boxes required.

"I knew you would accept the post as soon as I walked into the room." Such finality in the statement. The arrogance there both amused and irritated John. He wanted to say something to make Mr. Holmes clarify, but Bill got there as he started to sign his own paperwork.

"Is that so? I Nearly had to drag the bloke here by his ears. Then again, we're both used to more sensible patients..."

Bill's words seemed to twist the expression on Mr. Holmes' face into one of coldness. No longer did John see any of the puckishness that had intrigued him. This new face had anyone with a bit of sense tense and alert.

The man rose from his seat and strolled behind the two men to better see if they had missed anything regarding their papers. "I assure you, some of the people you will be working with are quite sensible; after all, those that dance appear insane to anyone who can not hear the music, wouldn't you agree?"

Bill chuckled nervously, "I think hearing things others don't is why most of them are here..."

John noticed that his friend was slowly digging himself a grave and cut into the conversation before Mr. Holmes could give Bill a hopeless glance. "Would it be possible for a tour of the establishment? I would like to familiarize myself with the place so that next time I arrive I won't waste any time becoming hopelessly lost."

Mr. Holmes looked back to John, interested in the deviation from the previous topic. "Yes. My secretary will escort you where ever you wish to go – within reason." He looked up and as if cued, the door opened and the girl came out yet again, still smiling as if it would hurt her to do otherwise.

"If you are all finished, we could start at the cafeteria. Most of the patients are there, so you can meet a few of them if you want." She suggested, head tilting slightly so a lock of auburn hair fell over her shoulder; both John and Bill were drawn to the movement. John shook his head and mentally noted that the reason he was probably so easily distracted, was because he had been in the military for far too long.

"Yes, I think I am done here." The doctor looked to Holmes for confirmation before standing up and wandering to the door, Bill at his side. "The Cafeteria would be lovely."

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