Together at Last

What Should We Do About You?

"I dont want to talk to you right now."

The chair scrapes against the floor, hes not leaving any time soon. I roll over, turning my back on my brother.

"You need to. They want to stick you in an institution again Sherlock."

"And by 'them' you mean you right?"

"I don't want to hurt you again."

"A little late for that."

He keeps trying to talk to me, to make me say anything civil to him. They are trying to stick me back. I cant go back. I don't want to go back. He wants me back. They all do. They want me back in the institution.

"Sherlock!"

I realize I am pacing the room, I don't remember standing.

"Sit down."

I ignore him, ripping the IV and morphine drip needles from my arm.

"Where are you going? Get back in here. Sherlock!"

He dosent stop me from walking out though, just trails me loosely. Lestrade pulls him away, leading me out to the rest of the group. John is curled up on a chair, my coat draped over him. Mrs. Hudson is sitting with him, trying to get him to sit up. Everyone turns when I stagger in, everyone but John. He is tuning everything out, eyes clenched shut. I walk over, touching his shoulder lightly.

"I'm sorry. To everyone. I was trying to help you. All of you. I have failed, again, to protect you."

I walk out of the hospital, shoving past the nurses who try to stop me. Lestrade checks me out I suppose, because I am suddenly left alone. I look over to see not John or Lestrade, but Mycroft standing next to me.

"You are coming back with me and Greg. To my...our flat."

Lestrade gently pulls me into the car, making sure I am situated in the back before he shuts the door. I don't buckle, like always, and lean against the window. Mycroft watches me through the mirror while he drives, eyes darting up to check on me every few seconds.

"Stop."

"Stop what?"

"You are staring at me. Stop."

He keeps glancing up at me though, eventually I turn to stare out the window. We stop in front of his flat, and I let Lestrade pull me inside.

"Sitting room."

Mycroft sends us inside, sitting in the car for a few more minutes before he follows. Lestrade tells me to sit on the couch, him sitting across from me.

"Are you okay?"

"No."

He jumps up when Mycroft storms into the room, walking to his side.

"Sit down Myc, you need to calm down."

We sit in silence, Lestrade and Mycroft sitting together on the couch across from me.

"You need to stop this William."

"Its Sherlock."

"Fine. Regardless, you need to stop. They want you on medications and therapy, either that or back in the institution."

"No."

"No what?"

"I'm not accepting either."

"You need to pick something. We cant let you continue on like this."

"No therapy. And I'm not going back to the institution."

"But you will take the medications?"

"If I feel like it."

"Get some rest, we're heading back out tonight."

"What for?"

"Your evaluation."

"Tomorrow."

"Tonight Sherlock. You have no say in this."

"Fuck you."

Lestrade takes me to a back room, wrapping me in a soft fluffy blanket.

"You're going to be okay Sherlock, he isn't mad at you. Just upset. You need to talk to us about this."

I lie against his side reluctantly, letting him hold me. The warmth of his embrace and the softness of the blanket around me makes me drowsy, I fall asleep quickly. Lestrade wakes me up a few hours later, telling me to grab some food from the kitchen and meet them out in the car. I just follow him out of the flat, not hungry at all.

"Did you eat?"

"No."

"You are going to eat tonight after your evaluation."

"I'm not."

"Stop arguing with me! You are going to eat, final decision."

"Fine."

I sullenly sit in silence, ignoring even Lestrades attempts at conversation. We pull into the car park, John meeting us at the doors. He reaches out his arms to me, wrapping his arm around my waist as I lean against him. The doctor asks me a lot of stupid questions, writing things down on his stupid notes pad.

"I am going to prescribe you a few different medications today, they should be ready for pickup by the end of the week."

I slouch down in the back seat of the car, John leaning against me with his head on my shoulder. He is tapping his fingers again, I love you. I tap my fingers across the back of his hand, You too. We hop out of the car when it stops, Lestrade pulling us into the flat and sending us to bed.