I'm really excited about this Sherlock AU! I hope you all like it!
John Watson sighed nervously. It was his first day at Broadmoor Psychiatric Hospital. John was the new doctor at the psychiatric hospital, the odd one out, again. He had only received his degree a few years ago, so John knew he would be considered inexperienced for many years to come.
Still, he accepted the challenge Broadmoor presented. It was the best known of the three high-security psychiatric hospitals in England, so he was very proud when he got the call offering him the job. He was finally moving up. But that didn't mean it wasn't nerve wrecking.
Was it really a good idea to be employed at the Broadmoor Criminal Lunatic Asylum? It wasn't called that anymore, mostly because the general attitude towards psychiatric wards and the word "asylum" had drastically changed over the years. However the previous title rang true, reflecting the kind of people who were being housed there. John had heard the crazy stories.
From criminally insane to raving lunatics, Broadmoor had it all. But that didn't scare John away. He was ecstatic to meet his new patients.
"Doctor Watson?" a soft voice woke John from his daze.
"Yes?" John replied.
"I've been waiting for you." The woman smiled. Her face was simple, but pretty. Long, sandy brown hair was pulled into a loose ponytail on the left side of her body, dropping down to her stomach. "I'm Molly, the activities director for the West Wing. I'll also be your assistant."
"Nice to meet you," John smiled half-heartedly. Molly looked deep into his eyes, trying to get a read on him, but right as John caught her eyes she quickly turned around.
"Come on, then, I'll show you to your office," Molly said, walking away. John followed her through the bright halls. The walls were lined with white doors that had their room numbers printed on golden plaques. The corridors eerily resembled a prison and its cells. John tried to forget the dreadful comparison he had made, but he couldn't quite shake it.
"Here we are," Molly said, presenting a small room in the midst of a circular lobby, seemingly at the heart of the building. There were four hallways branching out from this small lobby. A few other offices were around his, but so far it seemed pretty deserted, save the guards here and there.
"Where is everyone?" John asked.
"It's quiet hour. All the activities cease and the patients are required to retreat to their rooms. We have a pretty clear-cut schedule we follow."
"Ah, I see." John peeked into his office. It was barren, the only furniture was a small desk, a chair, and a dusty bookshelf.
"It's not great…" Molly sympathized.
"Oh no, this will do," he smiled, "I can fix it up a little bit."
"Alright, well why don't you get settled in? I'll take you through some of your patients in a minute. If you have a question, I'll be in the office right next to yours," concluded Molly. Then she walked into her office and shut the door. The haunting silence that followed sent chills up John's spine.
John shut the door to his new-only by title-office. He set his suitcase down on the floor by the desk and looked through the drawers. Luckily, there were some old tissues in the middle drawer. John began wiping the small layer of dust off the desk and bookshelf.
John's mind began to wonder. Would he be able to handle the patients here? Would the cases be too complex for a newer psychiatrist? He was sure there would be doubts about his experience and knowledge, especially amidst the other psychiatrists. John knew he needed to prove his worth. It all depended on the patients to whom he was assigned.
"You ready?" Molly popped her head in.
"As ready as I'll ever be," John replied, rising to accompany Molly. She handed him a pile of files and a clipboard and they started walking down the West hallway.
Molly began explaining, "Most of your patients will be here in the West wing. There are some violent schizophrenics, criminally insane-for lack of a better word, aggressive patients with social anxiety or delusional disorder, a few psychopaths, and even a sociopath."
John's eyes widened with every rare kind of patient she mentioned. These were all very interesting diagnostics, their states of mental health all severe. Molly noticed the look of shock on John's face.
"Don't worry, most of the patients treat their doctors well. After all, they need your approval if they are going to be released any time soon."
John swallowed the lump in his throat. "Most?"
Molly inhaled. "Doctor Watson…"
"Call me John, please."
"John," Molly grew quiet and motioned for him to come closer, "I shouldn't be the one telling you this, but there is a particular patient…well…" she couldn't seem to get the right words out.
"He has been in solitary for over a year-" she whispered.
"What?" John shrieked, his mouth soon covered by Molly's soft, small hand.
"Shh! Not so loud, we aren't supposed to mention him."
John lowered his voice, but it kept the edge, "I thought we aren't even allowed to put patients in solitary confinement, much less keep them there for a year! Do you know what that can do to a person? What effects it can have-"
"We know," Molly replied. She seemed to have a broken empathy for the patient in solitary. "It is still legal, just rarely practiced anymore. In the UK, only a few patients in tens of thousands get put into confinement. Anyways, my point was that you're his new psychiatrist."
"He has gone through five of them in the past six weeks, so the board thought that a fresh psychiatrist would have more of an open mind about him and his…condition. He's very difficult to get along with. He sort of…points out your flaws."
John nodded, "Mhm. Is he the only patient of mine who's in solitary?"
"He's the only patient in the hospital in solitary. None of the other psychiatrists wanted him-" Molly cut off her sentence, "Sorry-he always tells me I shouldn't make conversation."
"It's fine," John reassured her. "So, you go to visit him?" Molly's face grew pale. "Isn't it only their doctors who are allowed to see them in soli-"
"Don't tell anyone!" Molly pleaded. "Aside from all the insults and the crazy, he's brilliant, really! I could lose my job…please." She started to cry.
John tried to calm her. "It's okay, Molly. I'll leave it alone. I didn't hear anything."
Color returned to her face. "Really?" she said, wiping away a tear.
"Really. Now what's this patient's name? Can I meet him? I have to start somewhere, right?"
"Well," Molly said with a sniffle, "Normally the patients have to be alone for the quiet hour, but seeing how he's alone all the time anyways, I suppose it would be okay." She flipped through the files in John's hands. Molly pulled out the one at the bottom and plopped it onto the top of the pile.
"This is him. Read on up. I should go, quiet hour is almost up. The West Wing is going to be playing rugby." She turned to leave.
"Oh, Molly?" John stopped her.
"Where is he staying?"
"Oh, right, I almost forgot. His confinement chamber is all the way straight down the North Wing, second last door on your right. That's the only chamber in use, so it shouldn't be hard to miss."
"Thank you," John said and opened the file she pointed out to him.
"No problem." Molly walked away.
John turned back and sauntered to the North Wing. He looked at the name on the file. Sherlock Holmes.
I hope I've interested you! If so, leave a review and follow! c:
The beautiful cover photo was by this lovely on deviant art. art/Murderous-Intent-348872215
I appreciate the support, lovelies xoxo