Chapter 21
He was woken about 9 am on the first full day of his sectioning. The nurse from the previous day shook him gently on the shoulder, to which he just groaned in response and pulled the cover further over his head.
"Come on dear, you have a big day ahead of you." The nurse said cheerfully pulling back the curtains to reveal the London skyline.
"Its not a big day, it's just another boring day but stuck in a different hell hole." He replied arrogantly, his face still buried in the pillow.
"Be that as it may. I expect you up in ten minutes for breakfast. What would you like dear?" she continued cheerfully.
"I'm not hungry and stop calling me dear. It's annoying."
"Whatever you say dear." The nurse said obviously ignoring his last statement before departing the room, the door clicking shut behind her.
He rolled over onto his back looking at the ceiling before swinging his legs off the bed and put his dressing gown on over his clothes and walked over to the window. He was so bored already, he wished to be outside in the city below. He hadn't changed since last night as he had fallen asleep in the clothes he was wearing due to the powerful sedative effect of the drugs he was given. He picked up his phone from the beside cabinet, there was a text from Mycroft. He deleted it before even reading it. Mycroft doesn't text when he can call so it can't be that important. The nurse came back into the room to see him stood looking out the window.
"I'm glad to see you decided to arise." The nurse said placing the tray with porridge and orange juice down on the unmade bed. "Now come over here and eat this up." The nurse continued. Sherlock persisted to look out the window with no response. The nurse sighed and sat down in the chair at the desk. "I'm going to sit here until you eat it, so if you want to have your privacy back then I'd suggest you eat it now."
"I told you I'm not hungry." He said in annoyance.
"Your brother told us that you would say that."
"Of course he did." Sherlock muttered to himself. He lingered for another fifteen minutes. He hoped that if he waited long enough that the nurse would get bored and have to go off to complete other jobs. He was wrong.
"We don't want to have to force feed you Sherlock but we will if we have to." The nurse said after twenty minutes of this silent battle. He groaned with defeat and went and sat cross legged on his bed with as much sulky behaviour as he could muster. He took one spoonful of the porridge before dropping the spoon in the bowl with a loud clatter.
"Its cold." Sherlock complained, "and it's disgusting. Do you people not have any culinary skills?" He was being obscenely rude but he didn't care. Other people's emotions were becoming more and more irrelevant to him.
"Well who's fault is it that it's cold though, dear. If you had eaten it up as I told you to earlier it wouldn't be."
"I thought I told you to stop calling me dear" He sad angrily, throwing the spoon at her head. The nurse ducked in time and was less phased by the outburst than he thought she'd be. This obviously showed in his face.
"We are used to your type of behaviour on this ward so your outbursts don't surprise me, especially from what I've read of your history. I will however not tolerate it in my presence. You will be taught how to control your temper and any signs of violent behaviour will be treated very severely. Is this understood?"
"Yes" He murmured barely audibly.
"Good. Now eat your breakfast." She ordered.
Half an hour later the nurse left the room, with instructions for Sherlock to get changed to be introduced to his therapist who would be treating him during his stay. When she told him this the first thing that came through his mind was to conduct an experiment. How quickly could he deduce this new person and encourage him to leave his job. He smiled at his own devious nature. Rooting through the sports bag that Mycroft had left he pulled out a long sleeved t-shirt and jeans. He chose this purposefully to cover the track marks on his arms. He was aware that his brother had probably already informed them of his drug history but he didn't want to make it anymore obvious to them than was necessary. The nurse collected him about ten minutes later and brought him out of his room into the communal living area. This was the first time Sherlock was allowed out of his room since his arrival. He was introduced to the staff who would be helping him. He was his usual rude self on introduction, he had no interest if these people would like him or not. He was already fully aware that he didn't like them. The communal area was filled with one long sofa, two armchairs and a relatively large TV. It had 5 different coloured doors around the edge. These were obviously the patients rooms, all single sleepers judging by the size. He watched as nurses used plastic key cards to enter and exit the locked doors to the patient rooms. These would be easy enough to pick pocket which he made a mental note of before scanning the room again. A nurse was sat at the high desk near the entrance to the ward. She was a plump lady with greying hair. Two children by the looks of her stress lines and clear signs of a nicotine addict. The irony of that in this place humoured him. Along with the nurse there was also a strongly built man who stood guard over the swinging double doors that led onto the ward. He only caught a glimpse of this man when a doctor exited into the corridor but it was enough to decipher the types of people contained on this ward. This area was obviously only for those detained under the mental health act and may pose a risk to other people and had to have limited access to areas in the hospital and especially to areas outside. Sherlock couldn't believe he was being made to associate with such a crowd. As if he was one of them. There were three more doors leading off from the communal area. Two of which led to bathrooms complete with showers, they were clinically clean like the rest of the ward. Sherlock was shown around one whilst the other was obviously for female residents which there currently were none. He assumed this room would be locked and therefore irrelevant. The third door led of to a corridor and held his destination. Along the corridor were two rooms which he presumed would be sleeping accommodation for nurses. This ward would be high maintenance so long shifts would be necessary. There were two other doors with gold name plaques at eye height. The nurse knocked on the one which had the name Dr Matthias Jr Brown. She opened the door to reveal a well kept doctors study. It contained a large bookcase with psychological manuals and texts as well as a large central desk where a man in his 30s was sat. He looked up as the pair entered. He smiled, nodding at the nurse who departed leaving the two men alone. Sherlock sat down on the softly padded armchair in the corner of the room before being asked and pulled out his phone to find a distraction for the next boring hour.
"Would you mind putting that away for me Sherlock? It might be a bit difficult to get to know you if your nose is buried in technology." He smiled. Sherlock glance upwards before smirking and returning his gaze to his phone.
"Something amusing?" The psychologist said puzzled.
"Just deducing." Sherlock said staring at Dr Brown.
"And what have you deciphered so far?" The Doctor asked. Sherlock smiled, this was his favourite part.
"You're clearly a graduate from a distinguished university judging by the way you wear that suit with so much pride and honour. They've taught you to hold yourself in that way. But this role wasn't your choice. Your father that's where it began. A psychiatrist himself by trade, and wanted his son to follow in his footsteps. This is often the way with men who name their child after themselves. Their ego takes over and want to create a recreation of themselves. You followed in his shadow for years before achieving more than you felt possible. You got your grades and travelled the world. That's clear by the pictures surrounding the room of different photos from different countries. They're clearly not professionally taken but instead are places that hold a lot of meaning for you. You came back from your trip a different man with a desire to help people abroad but your father wouldn't have it and you argued before his untimely death. The top shelf of your bookcases are stacked with travel books and books about working abroad, clearly the idea is not out of your mind but you wanted to try and forget about it to do the job your father encouraged to make him proud as you feel guilty about the stress induced heart attack causing his death. There's something more there though. A secret you've never told. Ohh two years ago? Is that when it happened?"
"When what happened?" The Doctor said nervously.
"When you attacked that boy? He got on your nerves. Too many comments about your father that irritated you. You'd never lain your hands on a child before but this teenager was an exception. You beat him and almost killed him. I can see all this from the anger that's lingering behind your eyes now. The way I've talked about your father, it sets you on edge bringing you back to that day. You dismantled the evidence and got off scot free before you left the job to come here. Everything in the office is new from two years ago, the computer, the desk. Furniture in offices rarely gets replaced so it must have been bought for your arrival. What I wonder know is how many people here would be intrigued to know about your secret." Sherlock rambled. The Doctor stared at him with so much disdain.
"Get the fuck out." He said. Sherlock happily obliged.
By the end of that day the doctor resigned. There was no explanation for the behaviour. All the nurses knew is that the last person to speak to him was the Holmes kid who everyone instantly became wary of. Sherlock didn't mind however as it meant he would be left to himself.
The day had passed in pretty much the same boring manner. After Sherlock was kicked out of therapy he was taken back to his room where he picked at a sandwich they provided for lunch. Following this he was led back out to the communal area for social activities. Sherlock looked around at the four other boys accommodating in this ward. Judging by their appearances they were all between 19 and 24 with Sherlock being the youngest out of the group. As this was not a children's ward there wouldn't be anyone under 18 and from the age range of the occupants he assumed this ward was for miscreants between 18 and 25. He sat himself down in the comfiest looking armchair and observed the people around him in order to start deducing them. There was a ginger boy to his left. He looked about 21 and was shaking. Not just a nervous shaking but also a longing trembling. Sherlock recognised the symptoms. This was a guy in need of a fix. Not of drugs however but of alcohol. An addiction stemmed from stress. Clearly the signs of a debilitating anxiety disorder. Boring. Who was next? Sherlock turned to stare at the blonde boy on the sofa opposite him. The way he was sat was odd and that was saying something for this place. He was sure blondie hadn't moved since he entered the room. Ah of course. A catatonic schizophrenic. Interesting. The man was about 22 so the second oldest out of the group. He also had clearly been here a while judging by the way the nurse were dealing with his situation trying to coax him back to reality, clear signs of practised behaviour. The next boy along was a classic case of depression, on his way out of it too judging by the productivity of his day. The page in front of him was scattered with educational ideas of how the young man could get into university. A waste of time Sherlock thought to himself. He clearly was to fall back into this state as soon as he left. The final boy was about 24. The oldest of the group and it showed. A PTSD sufferer. He had experienced an emotional trauma while travelling abroad in South Africa. He had a multi-coloured thread bracelet on his wrist which depicted the colours of the South African flag. With its high levels of kidnap and high crime rates it was likely that something serious had happened to him there. It was all in his body language too. Suddenly the nurse jolted him out of his deductions by making an announcement to the group.
"Okay boys. As you can clearly see we have a new member to our group. Sherlock, would you like to introduce yourself, maybe tell us a little bit about why you're here."
"I think you've just introduced me yourself. I don't do socialising so don't bother wasting your time trying to encourage it." Sherlock said coldly.
"We're all here to help you and I'm sure you'll feel much different when you realise we are all quite similar. Paul why don't you tell Sherlock about this ward." The nurse said turning to the depressed boy.
"Unnecessary" Sherlock said loudly. The nurse looked at him sternly before turning back to Paul and smiling.
"Well this ward is a very specialised unit for those of us who have been detained under the mental health act. Its designed so we can improve to avoid sending us to prison and making our situation worse as they understand its not our fault. So for example I'm here because I tried to drive my car into my ex girlfriends house..." Paul explained.
"Boring." Sherlock complained.
"Sherlock please. That's incredibly rude." The nurse said slightly shocked.
"I don't care, it is. I know that he tried to knock down his ex partners house with his car. I know that boy has an anxiety disorder and tried to commit fraud to get more money to ease his troubles which led him to drink through the stress. He has catatonic schizophrenia and created a public spectacle of himself and he had PTSD and was arrested for locking him and his best friend in a house for two days and not letting him leave. So let's stop these stupid introductions and you can just leave me alone." Sherlock sped through his speech and caused several looks of astonishment in his direction.
"How did you..." The nurse began.
"Never mind how I knew. You people see but do not observe it's a surprise you can make anyone better at all." Sherlock snapped.
"I think you'd better take some time out to yourself Sherlock and allow yourself to calm down. You will not be allowed to partake in today's social activities until your rude behaviour ceases." The nurse said slightly frustrated.
"Finally!" He said sarcastically and got himself to his feet to wait outside his door impatiently to be let in by the nurse. She swiped through key card and he slipped into the room closing the door behind him.
Hi guys! Sorry first the delay with this chapter just got very busy all of a sudden.
I'm really pleased with this chapter so tell me what you think too.
Don't forget to follow andirections favourite.
Btw there will hopefully be another chapter before Saturday before a two week hiatus while I go on holiday but there will be more when I come back!