Sherlock's Second Vow [FINISHED]

Chapter 17: Black Eye and the Tooth Fairy

Hope everyone is staying safe and taking precautions against coronavirus.

Hah, if anyone is even reading this...

I have like, around 150 views so I guess some people are seeing it. Hello, people! I'd like to know what you think of this. Hope it's good and you're enjoying it.

I need to stop being an ass. 150 views is a whole lot! Thank you all for reading :) I don't want to be 'that guy' but please comment and vote.

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Shadowtiger456's Note: I have been in a psychiatric ward twice before. I am not exaggerating the events and descriptions in this chapter. But since I was in a low level ward, this might be a nicer description than the reality.

Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD)

Prescribed Treatment: Cognitive Behavioral Therapy

Timeframe: Once a day while in hospital

Prescribed Treatment: Antihypertensive Clonidine, 0.6mg a day

Timeframe: Indefinitely

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Level 1 Aspergers Syndrome

Prescribed Treatment: Communication and Behavioral Training Therapy

Timeframe: Once a day while in hospital

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Severe Depressive Disorder

Prescribed Treatment: *Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (TMS)

Timeframe: Twice a week for six months

*If unsuccessful after four weeks, switch to Vagus Nerve Stimulation (VNS)

Prescribed Treatment: Prozac, three 20mg capsules a day (60mg)

Timeframe: Indefinitely

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***

It was late afternoon when John pulled into the Cygnet Psychiatric Hospital. The breeze was strong and warm. He stared up at the levels of the brick building. His friend was in there, somewhere.

"Hurry up, Daddy!" Rosie tugged at his hand. She'd been upset that he'd made them wait so long to see Sherlock, but John wanted him to be out of the... more dangerous part of withdrawal.

He didn't want to scare her.

This time, they were taken inside one of the wards. Before John stepped into the waiting room, he caught sight of it.

The hall was long, paneled with fake wood. A large room was at the end, scattered with chairs and men crumpled in little groups, or on the floor, clad in hospital gowns, sheets, and dirty clothes. He swore he could smell them from here.

The only windows were frosted over, and three nurses watched them all the while. A single, small TV blared on the far wall.

John shivered. Imagine living here.

"Wait here a moment," a male nurse said, and took Rosie to a seperate room. John had wanted to see Sherlock first, alone.

He sat, hands gripping the edge of the chair anxiously.

John didn't flinch when he heard the first scream, but his head swiveled toward the door, and his grip tightened.

Yelling. A loud crash, as if one of the chairs had been slammed against the walls.