Author's Note: This is the chapter where you may require that corner that I mentioned in the summary, or a tissue or three.
John knew this was going to happen. He had been dropped off by Mycroft, and by the time the cab had driven safely out of sight, his hands were bound. Someone had then proceeded to knock him out and drag him into the abandoned warehouse near where he was dropped off. He was now bloody and bruised after a brutal interrogation, and had a revolver pressed to his temple.
He glanced up at the male holding the gun, who grinned maliciously. His eyes sparkling with triumph, he nodded to John to make the call. John's restraints were loosened and he reached for his phone. He dialled, his fingers shaking, and then put the mobile up to his ear.
"H-have I ever t-told you how brilliant...you...are?" John trailed off after the gunman jabbed his temple warningly with the nozzle to get on with it.
"They're going to find you by tracking you from your-"
John's windpipe was cut off by the gunman pinning him between the floor and his riding crop. His restraints were once more tightened, and the phone fell with a clatter next to his face. John would never betray Sherlock, and was not going to deliver the gunman's message. He lashed out against the riding crop and restraints, momentarily freeing himself of the man.
"-phone!" John gasped, regaining his breath, and finishing his sentence. He grabbed the mobile and realized this would possibly be his last time to say something to Sherlock.
"Good-bye, Sher-"
He was once more cut off by the riding crop, and though he struggled, it got him nowhere. The gunman quickly pinned him down with one of his large black combat boots, before placing the gun to John's temple and pulling the trigger. The shot rang out, and John stopped struggling. Blood pooled around his head, and it stained the shoulders and back of his beige jumper. His blonde hair became caked, also, and his face was forever frozen in panic and struggle.
The gunman bent down next to his victim, prying the mobile from his still slightly warm fingers to hit the 'End Call' button, ending the voicemail.
John never got to truly say good-bye to Sherlock, or even hear his baritone voice one last time.
