Chapter 2

Sherlock Holmes had always deemed himself a unstoppable force, so when he was barely conscious and recognizing Mrs. Hudson's shrill screams and babbling into what he thought may have been a phone he didn't really register it. He just drifted back of into Heroin induced bliss.

He awoke in a much different state. Agitated and aching, he tried to sit up in what he shortly realized was a hospital bed. A needle was protruding from his hand and leading up to an IV. He looked around for a while; taking in an analyzing every aspect of this peculiar room he had found himself in. He pulled the small adhesive tab that had helped to hold the IV in place and let it fall onto the ground it on to the ground before carefully and painfully removing the needle that was snugly sitting in his vein.

He wobbled slightly in his first attempt to get up, but managed to make it to the door. A nurse noticed him and rushed to his side, helping steady him.

"Mr Holmes" she said in a Caribbean accent "You can't leave the hospital yet. I'll tell 'ya landlady that you've woken up, though okay?" she was patronizing. Sherlock was annoyed.

"That's an awfully patronizing tone of voice from somebody who obvio-"

The nurse cut him off. "None of that now, Dear" she said, pulling the blanket up over him and settling his head of the pillow "Ill tell 'ya doctor" and with that, she had left the room.

Sherlock huffed. The woman was obviously a dominant, but still a nurse. She had to be respectful, but that didn't mean she could be domineering as well.

Sherlock winced as Mrs. Hudson came round the corner looking angry, and concerned. The phone call Sherlock remembered. She must have found me. No wonder she looked so agitated. He must have been in a terrible state. Instead of apologising to her when she came into the room he crossed his arms and sulked.

"You bloody fool!" she yelled in a worried tone. She had obviously been crying. Throwing her arms around Sherlock and giving him a peck on the cheek she continued to chastise him. He managed to tone out most of her boring drivel. He didn't need to sum up the energy to delete whatever she had said later on. He was already feeling tired. His ears only perked up at the mention of a dom, but by the time Sherlock had registered the comment she had carried on babbling.

"Wait, what was that about a dom?" he inquired.

"I'm getting you one!" Mrs. Hudson replied, with a frown on her face. Before Sherlock had a chance to talk back she continued "Listen love, I found a nice little place where you can hire a dom and they will look after you if you can't find one yourself. Its really not that expensive and im willing to pay it"

"What an earth are you talking about, Mrs. Hudson. I haven't had a dom in months" Sherlock complained.

"That's the problem dear" She explained "This dom whoever he is - is going to stay with you. He can have the upstairs bedroom and im not asking for any more rent either. He'll look after you. I spoke with him on the phone he said the relationship is entirely open to negotiation. You can set boundaries, but he'll make sure you stay off the drugs. I have taken all of that nasty stuff out the house I could find!"

Sherlocks smirk - which had been brought on by the idea that there was no way Mrs. Hudson could have found all of the drugs he had hidden in the house - was stopped short as she continued "- And i've had DI Lestrade round as well with the dogs and whatnot. They took everything, Sherlock. This is for your benefit, not our satisfaction".

Sherlock spent a small amount of time analyzing and reviewing the information he had just been given before responding with a sigh. He rolled over, bringing his legs up to his chest. He was not happy about this little arrangement Mrs. Hudson had sorted out, and he was definitely not happy about the drugs bust. That wasn't even Lestrade's division. But, Sherlock admitted to himself the spark of excitement he found welling up in the pit of his stomach at the mention of a dom. It really had been a while since Sherlock had anyone in his life that was a dom, let alone a dom that could control him.

Sherlock spent the rest of the week in hospital. He was offered Methadone, but turned it down. He wasn't going to lower himself to the standards of a common street junkie. He wasnt going to ween himself off of Heroin like a baby needs to be weened off of milk. He was Sherlock Holmes. It would be easy.

The detective spent his first night home with Mrs. Hudson. The dom wouldn't be arriving until the next day and Mrs Hundson - and all the doctors and majority of the nurses at the hospital - had insisted that she stay with him. He didn't think any of the hospital staff where interested in spending another night catering to Sherlock Holmes every need.

Although Sherlock had spent the last week going through what must have been called withdrawal, his first night at home seemed to be the worst he had felt all week. Weather it be the withdrawal reaching its peak, or just because if he wanted to... if he really wanted to he could use again, it seemed to be worse than it had ever been before. But his brain wasn't clouded. His brain wasn't screaming anymore. It was mostly assessing all the things that had happened during the last few days.

The detective didn't sleep that night. He sweated a lot, though. He mostly occupied his mind with the figure of Mrs. Hudson who was sleeping on a chair a few meters from his bed until he slowly shut his eyes and almost drifted of into sleep before being woken up by Mrs. Hudson running her hand through his sweat filled curls.

"You alright dear?" She asked, with a concerned tone. Sherlock just nodded, pushing her away gently and heading towards the bathroom. Before he turned the shower on he heard Mrs. Hudson call through to him "He'll be here in around an hour dear"

Sherlock got into the shower, letting the scolding water run over his back as he thought about what was too come. He had no idea what this man would be like; what he would expect of him. Should he be kneeling before he walked through the door? He was going through withdrawal! Surely he wasn't going to be expected to kneel in his current state.

He must have been in the shower longer than he thought, because after he had gotten out, dried himself off and gotten dressed he heard a light but firm tap on the door. Sherlock hurried into the sitting room and sat on his favorite chair, adopting his thinking stance. The dom wouldn't have expect him to treat him like 'his dom' on the first visit. Surely.

He listened to the footsteps coming up the stairs. Mrs. Hudson's couldn't be heard; she must have been giving them privacy. He did, however hear what sounded like a cane. Surely he wouldn't be that old? Working for an agency. Mrs. Hudson had sworn that he would have been at least half decent.

A short blonde man walked into the room. Dressed in a checkered shirt, and jeans. He was, indeed carrying a cane but he wasnt old at all. In a matter of seconds Sherlock had deduced this man was an Army Doctor, judging by his stance and hands. His limp was psychosomatic and the doctor knew it.

"Hello, Sherlock" The dom greeted.