It had been at least an hour since Seb and Ronan had left the room, leaving John strapped to the chair with bruises forming on his chest and stomach. All the while he was sitting there trying to think of how to convince Seb and Ronan that Sherlock was dead, John's phone kept going off somewhere in the small room.
After the 10th time of going off, Ronan stormed into the room.
"What the hell is that noise?" he shouted angrily.
"That...would...be...my...phone..." John said, having difficulty breathing.
"Well, fucking turn it off!" shouted Ronan.
"I...would...if...I...had...it...but...I...don't."
"So you think I would let you have your phone so you can turn it off and risk you calling for help. How dumb do you think I am!" he shouted, and hit John in the back of the legs. Hard.
"AAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!" cried John.
"That's what I love to hear. Now be good while I go and see who keeps trying to get your attention," said Ronan, walking over to where John's phone was.
"Ah, it appears that someone by the name of Mycroft is trying to contact you. He has left 10 messages" he said reading them out:
FROM MYCROFT (10:00)
JOHN, WHERE ARE YOU?
FROM MYCROFT(10:05)
JOHN. ANSWER ME..
FROM MYCROFT(10:10)
JOHN, ANSWER ME. WHERE ARE YOU?
FROM MYCROFT(10:15)
ANSWER ME. WHERE ARE YOU?
FROM MYCROFT(10:20)
IF YOU WON'T TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE, THEN ARE YOU OK?
FROM MYCROFT(10:25)
SERIOUSLY! ANSWER ME.
FROM MYCROFT(10:30)
JOHN, ANSWER ME. THIS IS NOT LIKE YOU.
FROM MYCROFT(10:35)
JOHN, I'M NOT JOKING! WHERE ARE YOU?
FROM MYCROFT(10:40)
JOHN, THIS IS SERIOUSLY NOT LIKE YOU.
FROM MYCROFT(10:45)
JOHN, ANSWER ME NOW!
"Well he certainly seems worried. Who is he to you?" Ronan asked, whilst putting the phone away and moving towards John "Well?" he asked. No reply. "Well, if you're not going to answer, I shall leave you with something to think about." Ronan said as he punched John in the face and walked out the door.