Mycroft Holmes came walking onto the ward around two in the afternoon a paper sack in his hand. He took one look at John Watson and sighed. "They said you were here."

John, who had been coloring once again, looked up at the familiar voice. "Mycroft…I'm not sure what my reaction should be towards you so I will just say 'hello'".

"Understood," The elder brother of his once flat mate said as he looked around the room. "Where is Sherlock?"

"Not sure." John admitted and it was the truth. Sherlock had been absent from the main room of the ward since they came in from outside that morning. He hadn't even seen the other man at lunch.

"Pity, I have some things he asked for." Mycroft said as he looked down at the plain brown paper sack.

Hank came walking up to the pair and smiled. "Good afternoon Mycroft." He said showing he was used to the older brother of Sherlock wondering around the ward. "Sherlock is in his bedroom, he has not been out much today."

"That is surprising." Mycroft admitted as he looked at John. "I would have thought he would be more present at activities with John here." He shrugged, "Either way I need to speak with him and give him these items I brought."

"Have they been looked over by the team?" Hank questioned even though he knew the answer. Mycroft had been coming to see Sherlock almost every day since he arrived at New Haven so he knew the drill on getting items 'checked-in' before giving them to his brother.

"Of course." Mycroft said. "May I go to his room?"

Hank nodded, "I make no guarantees what kind of mood he'll be in."

Mycroft nodded, "Understood." He said before walking down the hall and knocked on his brother's door.

"Go away Mycroft I don't want visitors today." Sherlock said from inside his room. He was lying on his bed staring at the wall just feeling lousy and sorry for himself.

"Sherlock I brought you some things." Mycroft tried but he could hear the depression in his brother's voice…something he hated more than the anal retentiveness or manic hyperactivity. He would never tell anybody but he blamed himself for Sherlock's psychological break 6 months earlier. If only he had gotten Sherlock out of Serbia sooner than maybe he would still just be the slightly 'off' sociopathic detective with Asperger's tendencies from London. But after his physical scars were healed it was obvious the emotional and mental were staying. The two week long stay in a Serbian psychiatric hospital was not ideal so Mycroft got him out of there as quick as he could but not soon enough in his book.

At first he had thought of simply sending him back to Backer's Street and letting him just get back to life. But realized he didn't have a plan for returning his younger brother from the dead. So, taking his medical records and current behavior with them from Serbia he admitted him into New Haven right away, which had ended up being a good thing since his behaviors continued even back in London and away from danger.

Now here they were 6 months later and even though Sherlock had good days…the bad days still out-numbered them and today seemed like one of those days.

Sherlock heard what his brother said but didn't make a move to get up from where he was lying. Instead he sighed loudly in a whoa-as-me way a sign he DID want attention but didn't know how to ask for it.

Mycroft got the memo and opened Sherlock's door and propped it open like he was told to do by orderlies on numerous occasions. He walked into the room and sat down in his normal chair. "What is going on Sherlock? Are you feeling alright?"

"Perfectly fine indeed." Sherlock said as he turned so he was facing Mycroft but still lying on the bed. "You brought me something?"

"Why don't you sit up and we will look at what I brought."

Sherlock seemed unsure of this request but soon sat up so he was sitting Indian Style in the middle of the bed. "What did you bring?" he asked again, beginning to come out of his shell a bit.

Mycroft handed the paper bag to his brother and tried to get comfortable in the very uncomfortable chair. "It's mostly things you mentioned wanting."

"Okay," Sherlock said as he pulled items out of the bag. There were two more leather bound journals, color crayons, coconut shampoo with matching body wash and a stuffed bear. Without thinking how it would look Sherlock grabbed the bear first and pulled it into his arms giving it a good cuddle.

'Okaaay' Mycroft thought to himself but learned not to question some of the thing his brother did as of late. As long as he wasn't getting calls that his brother was in a seclusion room or trying to harm himself, or that poor soul Charlie he was a happy man. "You like it then."

Sherlock realized what he was doing in front of his brother and quickly sat the bear down. "It's satisfactory."

"Right." Mycroft said trying not to laugh. "So how are you handling having John Watson as a room neighbor again?"

"Interesting." Sherlock replied as he was sniffing the shampoo. "He tried to kill me this morning."

That WAS interesting but Mycroft could understand John being upset with everything that had happened. "What did he do?"

"He attacked me at breakfast and tried to strangle me." Sherlock showed his neck where there were visible finger print bruises there.

This angered Mycroft, wasn't it the job of the orderlies to prevent things like that from happening.

"He was then taken to seclusion…John Bloody Watson was secluded this morning on his first day on the ward." Sherlock said sounding dumbfounded by the whole thing. "He always had a temper."

"So you two are not mates anymore?" Mycroft questioned.

Sherlock seemed to think about that, he never completely understood what it meant to be a friend but he figured if he had one it would be John. "I think we are okay now…we played basketball."

This had Mycroft choking on his own saliva, did his brother just say he played basketball? "Excuse me?"

"You know where you shoot a ball through a hoop…"

"I bloody well know what it is."

Sherlock was confused if Mycroft knew what it was why did he ask? "If you already know…"

"I didn't mean it like that….never mind Sherlock." Mycroft never completely understood why his brother didn't understand some things but then could talk your ear off about others. The psychiatrists and therapists tried to explain it to him. Supposedly, Sherlock had a disorder that was a mild form of autism called Asperger's disorder which made him a very concreate thinker and often have what the doctors explained to as a 'thing' he was really good at and really loved upon no other thing. In Sherlock's case it was anything to do with science and solving problems. But while he loved those things other things such as friendships and paying the rent was completely confusing to him.

And then there were times he got utterly frustrated with himself for not understanding societal norms that he would throw what could only be described as temper tantrums, which is what was about to happen right then.

Sherlock didn't like the fact that Mycroft wad dismissing him, "No…tell me…why would you ask me something that you already know? I need to know these things!"

Mycroft's eyes went wide, "Sherlock I simply was confused how YOU would be playing basketball and used the wrong words to ask."

"Oh." Sherlock said and Mycroft was thankful to have saved himself from having to call for help to calm Sherlock down.

"Well John asked me to play so we did. I was doing really well too but then asked him to stop because I had to check the ants." Sherlock rambled. "You know they are mating again…third time this month. I never realized how the mating season of ants worked until now and it's fascinating."

And this is what you get when you have a Bipolar individual with Asperger's. Somebody who talks a mile a minute about something that most people could care less about, at least Mycroft didn't care about the mating habits of ants but he smiled and nodded in all the right places to keep his brother on even keel for his afternoon activities.

Soon Carl was coming to the door and giving it a light knock. "Excuse me guys but visiting hours are up and it's almost art time if you want to come Sherlock.

"Can I use my new color crayons?"

Carl almost laughed but decided not to. "I am sure Ginger would love for you to join them and use your new colors."

Mycroft stood up and smiled, "Glad to see you are willing to join the group this afternoon, Sherlock. I hope my mobile stays quiet this evening."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "I never PLAN on being secluded or getting into any other type of trouble."

"I know you don't." Mycroft said and he meant that. He knew Sherlock was doing the best Sherlock could do at the moment. "I will see you tomorrow…and be nice to John." With that he walked out of the room leaving Sherlock with his random items.

Before art group Sherlock put his new hygiene items in his shower and made his bed. Of course he had to put the stuffed bear resting against his pillow because from what he had learned that was what you did with such toys. He also put his journals on his bookshelf with his other used journals and grabbed his crayons before leaving the room. When he got to the nurses' station he thought of something and knocked on the window.

A nurse came to the window and smiled at Sherlock. "How's it going Sherlock? I hear you've been hiding out most the day."

Sherlock sighed, "Can you put my name on these with a permanent marking pen?" he said shoving the crayons at her in a not so graceful sort of way.

The nurse almost didn't catch the crayons but thankfully did or THAT would have been a disaster. "Sure." She told the older man and went about doing his request.

"You coming to art group?" John questioned as he walked up beside Sherlock. He was happy to see that his friend was out of his room again. He always knew Mycroft was good for the other man.

Sherlock nodded, "Waiting for my crayons."

"We need to have our own stuff?"

"No I just do." Sherlock replied and then smiled at the nurse when she handed the 24 count pack of crayons back to him. "Thank you." He said a bit awkwardly but it was something he was supposed to be working on.

John smirked a little but didn't say anything as the two of them headed to the art room. Inside they found Tasha, Jennifer and Charlie all gathering supplies with who John learned was Ginger the art therapist.

"Hello gentlemen." Ginger said giving them a big smile. "You must be John. And welcome Sherlock."

John waved and took a seat next to Tasha and Sherlock sat on the other side.

"We are having open art studio this afternoon so you can choose what you want to make." Ginger went on to explain, mostly to John, what kind of things there were to do.

John decided he was going to make a collage out of magazine cutouts while he watched Sherlock begin coloring a rather elaborate picture of ants with his color crayons. He wasn't sure what it was with Sherlock and ants but then again he hadn't seen the detective for 6 months.

"Interesting." Sherlock said glancing at John's collage. "Didn't know you liked cats."

"Me neither," John laughed when he realized he had just made a collage of all cats and cat related items.

"Well I think it looks nice." Jennifer said giving John a big smile. "I like cats."

"You also like John." Tasha added and got elbowed in the arm for her words.

"Hey you two." Ginger warned. "Work on your projects not mess with each other."

John chose to ignore what Jennifer said and continued to add to his cat picture, still having no idea why he was making something with cats. Quite frankly cats scared him to death.

"That is very interesting and wonderfully done Sherlock." Ginger said as she glanced at the man's 'ant' picture.

Sherlock both nodded and shook his head at the same time. "It IS interesting but not very good. The body parts of the ant cannot be defined well enough with the crayons…"

"Just say 'thank you', Sherlock." Ginger said with a smile and then went on to look at the girls and Charlie's pieces of art.

"Just say thank you Sherlock" The dark haired man repeated sarcastically causing John to snort and then laugh fully.

Sherlock looked at John, "Can I come back and live with you?"

John was taken aback by Sherlock's words and the intense way he was looking at him. "We'll cross that bridge when it comes to it, okay?" and for some reason he had the feeling he had to clarify what he meant. "When we both get out of this place we'll check on Baker Street."

"What do you mean check on it?" Sherlock was confused but rightly so.

John wasn't sure how to tell his friend that he had moved out of the Baker Street flat a few months earlier and was now living with Mary.

"I don't live there anymore, Sherlock." John said figuring he would be honest.

This caught Sherlock off guard and he looked at John like he was completely bananas. "Where do you live then?"

"I…I…" John sighed, "I live with my girlfriend, Mary."

This caught Sherlock even MORE off guard and he did something that nobody would have expected he started laughing…hysterically. "

This caught the attention of everybody in the room and had Ginger worried. "Sherlock are you okay?" she questioned going over to him and crouching down. "Is something wrong?"

"He…has a girlfriend." Sherlock laughed to the point he was going to piss his pants. "Excuse…me…" he laughed before dashing out of the room.

Hank was on it and quickly rushed after Sherlock. "Sherlock come back…you cannot run off like that, especially not from art group." He then got this scary thought 'what if he has scissors'. Thinking that he grabbed Carl on the way to Sherlock's room for extra protection.

When they got there the door was still propped open from Mycroft's visit so both orderlies automatically felt better. If Sherlock was going to hurt himself he would have shut the door they figured.

Sherlock came out of the bathroom with a start, why was everybody standing around his room. "What's going on?" he questioned completely and utterly confused.

"We came to see what was going on with you. You ran out of art group like a bat out of hell."

"I had to use the bathroom." Sherlock said and then remembered why and started laughing again.

"See he was doing this before he ran out of the room." Hank whispered to Carl.

"Sherlock what is going on?" Carl tried again.

Sherlock stopped laughing long enough to smirk, "John has a girlfriend."

"Yes he does." Hank said with a nod. "Why is that funny?"

"Because he's in love with me."