"Mycroft wasn't the only one hiding something from you,"
"What do you mean, John? Spit it out!" Sherlock exclaimed. John sighed, his heart began to race with the beginning of an anxiety attack.
"Eurus wasn't the only sibling kept a secret from you."
"What do you mean?" Sherlock was fed up with the lack of information.
"I'm your brother," John spoke swiftly, almost too fast for Sherlock to comprehend. The raven-haired man tented his hands together under his chin.
"Do you think this is funny?"
"No, Sherlock, I don't think this is funny, I'm telling the truth." John tried to tell Sherlock but was cut off.
"Prove it or get out," The younger man told him simply.
"Mycroft destroyed my other files when I was Victor Holmes, I can't prove it right now, but Mycroft can." John attempted to reason with Sherlock but he was having none of it.
"Get out now!" John had never heard the man with such malice in his voice, and frankly he was terrified. He bolted out of the flat as fast as his legs would carry him. Sherlock collapsed into his chair as soon as John left the room. He took out his phone and found Mycroft's number. His finger hovered over the call button.
John was standing outside in front of 221b, he glanced up with slightly tear filled eyes towards the window and started walking.
He had been walking for a while when he noticed a dark figure following him. He turned into an alley, thinking it was a good idea. Wrong. He saw the figure following him still. John spun around in an attempt to startle the person following him. What he didn't expect was a knife to be driven into his abdomen.
At first it felt like a punch, then the searing pain began. The attacker quickly vanished, leaving John in the alley, knife in his stomach and bleeding out fast.