"They've just received The Duchess of Cambridge as a patron." Sherlock stared out the window, ignoring Mycroft. He didn't care who's patronage the place had. He simply wanted to get out as fast as possible.
"Wonderful."
"You would do well to show a bit more respect, Sherlock."
"Then I'll curtsy next time."
"Sarcasm, how droll." Sherlock rolled his eyes. At least in rehab, he'd be free of Mycroft's presence most of the time. "Visitation is every Sunday." Sherlock looked over at his brother this time.
"I won't request your presence."
"Nor shall I force you to."
Sherlock's eyes narrowed. Mycroft was up to something. Normally he pushed his way into Sherlock's life, regardless of the kicking and screaming on Sherlock's part. Mycroft sighed, put upon.
"You are here to ensure your continued survival, Sherlock. So that you can find ways to stop your... indiscretions." Sherlock smirked. Whoring himself to someone he had trusted in exchange for drugs was something he believed most people would consider more than an indiscretion. He looked at his brother to see a rather disapproving glare.
"Give Mummy my regards." He stepped out of the backseat before the car had fully stopped. A young woman in a doctor's coat came down to meet him.
"Mr. Holmes, I'm-"
"Dr. Donovan. Married, three children. Ambidextrous but your left hand is dominant. Glasses are for show, so you're not used to being taken seriously, yet you wear a dress in what is, quite frankly, an alarming shade of pink and wonder why your colleagues think of you as just another girlish coed. I'll show myself in, shall I?"
Dr. Donovan just stared after him, her mouth hanging open as he strode through the front doors.
"May I just apologize for the state of my little brother." She turned, seeing Mycroft standing by the car. The day was sunny, but he leaned on an umbrella, a small smile on his lips. "He is... difficult."
Dr. Donovan smiled. "I'm sure we'll get along fine, after he's had time to adjust." Mycroft's smile grew wider and somehow less friendly.
"Yes, of course."
Two orderlies hurried down the stairs, nodding at Mycroft and opening the back of the SUV. Each grabbed a large suitcase and hauled them back inside the house.
"Good day, Doctor." Mycroft slid back into the SUV's back seat, closing the door just before the vehicle began moving again.
Sherlock watched from just inside the doors. Part of him was thrilled at finally being free of his brother. And part of him was sad, and longing for the freedom to drive out those gates and back into the world.
"Mr. Holmes?" The voice was softer this time, tentative. He turned and stared down at Dr. Donovan.
"Yes?" His voice was deep but still a little raw. He swallowed, trying not to wince.
"If you'll just... follow me..." She turned and began walking. Sherlock rolled his eyes again but did as she asked. He may do everything he could to irritate his brother, but he also knew that Mycroft's threats were not to be taken lightly.
They walked through the large open lobby-like area, down a large open hallway, into a large open room. There were several people there - therapist, nutritionist, one of the two orderlies from before, specialized counselor, and another doctor - male - he had seen as the car had been driving up to the house.
"Mr. Holmes, I'm Dr. Anderson." His hand came out and Sherlock stared at it for a moment before bringing his eyes back up to the doctor's face.
"Does your wife know you're sleeping with your colleague, Dr. Donovan here?" Dr. Anderson' hand dropped back to his side. He stared at Sherlock and smiled. Sherlock's gaze never wavered.
"I can assure you that nothing-"
"Your deodorant."
"What?"
"It's for men."
"Well, of course... I'm wearing it..."
"So's Dr. Donovan." His eyes flicked over - she was blushing deeply and staring at the ground.
"She may have borrowed her husband's-"
"No, they've seperated." He was still watching her out of the corner of his eyes. "He moved out, most likely because he found out about her infidelities. Husband moves out, he won't leave anything there - won't want any excuse for her to call him and have him come over. No, she used yours, which indicates your wife is not home right now - perhaps out of town, visiting relatives or friends." Sherlock's eyes darted back to Dr. Anderson, but he said nothing more.
They were saved from the awkward silence that had fallen when there was a knock at the door, and the second orderly stepped in, followed by a man in plain khakis, a button-up shirt. He walked with a slight limp, but no cane, as though he were trying not to limp at all. Sherlock considered him for a moment.
"Mr. Holmes." Dr. Anderson smiled again, but it wasn't a friendly smile - this was his professional smile, the one he put in place so that he could do his job. "This is Dr. John Watson. John, this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes." John limped over, eyebrows peaked.
"Sherlock Holmes, the violinist?" They shook hands, and Sherlock nodded. John smiled. It was genuine, and real, and Sherlock felt himself squirming slightly, almost pained by how easy it seemed to come. "I heard you play three years ago, at King's Place. You were amazing. Absolutely fantastic." Sherlock felt his lips twitch. Could he really be smiling?
"You thought so?" He kept his voice quiet, soft. It wouldn't do to fall all over himself right now.
"Of course!" John's smile was bright and broad and Sherlock thought he might be able to drown in this praise.
"Thank you." John nodded at him.
"Well, now that we've exchanged pleasantries." Dr. Anderson looked between the two of them. "You'll be sharing a room. You're both here for the same reason, but from different addiction backgrounds. That's all we'll say on the matter - what you share between yourselves is entirely up to you. But we do encourage you to talk about these things with each other - often, talking to someone who doesn't share the same prediliction helps in the recovery." Dr. Anderson walked back to the desk and picked up several sheets of paper, which he distributed between the two. "These are the lists of alternative therapies and activities you are welcome to join. Start slowly - don't throw yourself into too many activities. Diversions are fine, but you still need to find time for yourself." He stepped aside. "This is your base supposert team." Introductions were made, though Sherlock was fairly certain he wouldn't actually need to remember any of their names. He nodded politely and said nothing to each other them in turn.
And finally introductions were finished, and the orderlies were escorting Sherlock and John back to their room. Sherlock wasn't sure what to think of everything right now, but he thought that maybe this wouldn't be quite so bad, with John around.