Chapter Text
"Dr. Watson!" Dr. Stamford called with a huge smile as he paced toward the short man, "Dr. Watson, Glad to have you here! They said that the big brother was hiring a new crew for Holmes, but I never thought it would be you! Nice to see you!"
Dr. John Watson gave the man a small fleeting smile as the fat man reached him and shook hands, but didn't slow down, making the man walk beside him. "Hello, Dr... " He glanced at the ID that hanged from the man's over sized white coat, "Stamford. Big brother?"
Stamford gave a small deep chuckle before answering; "Mycroft Holmes? He owns this place! We call him big brother around here. He chose you, didn't he?"
John remembered the black car that one day followed him on his way home from his psychiatrist and the man with the umbrella who seemed rather too fond of Bond movies that kidnapped him.
"Dr. Watson." The man curled the handle of the umbrella in his hand as he smiled a smile that leaked formality and fake politeness. "It's a pleasure."
"Why am I here?" John said in a hard tone he usually used to restrain his more dangerous patients as he stood a little bit taller making sure to show that the difference in height never stopped him from winning battles before. The man's smile turned into a sly one that resembled a snake's in many ways.
"It's rather unusual for a psychiatrist to have a psychiatrist, don't you think?" The man said as he turned his head in false amusement. "But I guess, it's rather natural coming from someone who has a background like you." those words were like poking a wounded bear with a stick, but John pulled on his best neutral face that he normally used in front of the patients to avoid giving the man the satisfaction.
"That didn't answer my question, sir. Why am I here?" He repeated this time with a colder tone.
"Always to the point like the good soldier you are, or used to be." The man answered as he tilted his head stretching his smile wider if possible, "I'm going to offer you a job which, I doubt you would refuse."
"then this is by far the shortest and most dramatic job interview in my history." John said, clenching his hands to fists. "Oh, Dr. Watson, I will pay you a great sum of money, for which I'm sure you could use t.." The man who seemed a bit over weighted was cut short as John jumped in with a; "I don't want your money and I don't want your job. You can go and find another unemployed psychiatrist to bother with you James Bond jobs."
The man's smile faded away and turned into a stone cold stare, which John assumed was how he really looked at others on normal bases, as he got a small black notebook out of his pocket. John froze as he heard the man reading from what seemed like a random page of the black notebook. "'After coming back from war, you start to study the human minds, a suggestion from your psychiatrist, you could still save lives even if your hand trembles all the way. Losing your sister to depression only triggered you to follow your studies much more obsessively.' You should have fired your doctor right when she suggested it, however." The man turned to look at him again, this time his eyes shinning brightly.
John knew the mind game the man was playing, but his curiosity was too great to fight to the urge to ask. "Why is that?" He said as he made sure that his body language would show that he has no interest in hearing the answer (which was a lie) and was only doing it as a social nicety (which he had no care for.) The man seemed to read through his act with his stare, which seemed impossible cause people rarely happened to be able to go under his professional mask. This man was dangerous, and he would one day regret getting involved with him.
"Your hand, doctor." He said as if he was pointing out the obvious. "Do you see any trembling at the moment?" John clenched his hands tighter, enough for his fingers to go white, as he didn't need to look at his hands to know the answer was negative. He knew where the man was getting with this, as he was able to understand it as he had studied on about his condition. "What does that tell a doctor such as yourself, Dr. Watson?" The man was too smug for whatever he was.
"That it's not the war haunting me, it's my body missing it." John said like he was saying something that he had repeated for many times. The man nodded his head in approval. "And the job I'm about to offer you will guarantee that you will never be bored again," The man smiled as he moved to get a file that seemed too full for the old frame as he walked toward John. His hand froze just before handing the file. "If you read this file, there will be no going out of this, doctor."
He warned. John thought about it. A soldier makes his choice in 7 breathes, afterwards even if his head is caught off his body will accomplish his task to the end.*
John Watson took a few breathes and reached out for the file.
"So, what have you heard from Holmes?" Stamford asks with a deter minded look on his face, as if he had made a decision about John's new job. John was happy that no one mentioned his limping foot, or his career before the Bart's Hospital For The Criminally Insane, so he did not even care if they were going to give him the hardest job in the whole community.
"I read his file." He answered, as he kept his eyes on the walls, trying to memorize the route to where his patient was held. "Did they tell you what happened to his last psychiatrist?" Stamford said in a dark and tired tune that didn't fit with his kind and harmless face, making John study his face for a minute.
"the woman seemed to quit?" Stamford laughed at that.
"No Dr. Watson. Sally was going insane, so they relieved her of duty."
"Well I guess that's what you get for naming your subject 'Freak' in the reports and refuse to call him anything else." John said, as he could think of nothing else to say.
"Holmes, is dangerous Dr. Watson. Don't let him get in your head." He said as he opened a door that was leading to a single small cell, his voice showed that he was more on Sally's side in this case which John found odd. Inside was the same as the rest of the hospital, a dull shade of white that was supposed to bring peace to the patients or so it seemed that way. About two meters inside the big room stood a thick glass that created the wall of the patient's cell. the man inside it had a full room of decors and books and seemed other wise to be living in a flat than a cell. He was sitting on a small metal chair with his back to the main door, seeming unfazed by the sound of the door opening. He seemed tall and extremely pale under that layers of the light blue colored hospital uniform. There were a few small marks on his neck where skin met the cloth, and the rest was covered by the clean clothing. He had messy black curls for hair that seemed too clean and shiny for a mental hospital patient, John thought.
"Good luck." John nodded at those words and walked through the room to reach where the glass wall of the cell started. The glass was a huge one piece form that only had a small metal door for the workers to enter to clean the messy cell, and seemed otherwise safe. There were many small breathing holes on it and a slim opening for what john assumed where the food tray and small objects were exchanged. He stood exactly in front of the man's back, and wore his best professional face before clearing his throat. Slowly, he saw a change in the man's breathing theme, as it showed from him moving his shoulder slightly and just like that the man turned on his chair and stared at the blond doctor.
"Hello." John said as the man faced him fully.He had a bony face that seemed like it was carved out of an expensive stone by the hands of a master artist, which was in a huge contrast with the dark hair that cupped it. His eyes were still close with long lashes touching his cheeks as he moved his hands to come together in front of him, as they were just motionlessly hanging from his side before, and just as the tips of his fingers touched each other the man's eyes flew open.
John looked straight into those deep grey eyes that seemed almost colorless in the room's light and smiled at the criminal named Sherlock Holmes.