Sherlock found himself walking away from John... again.
He stopped briefly, to send a text to Mycroft, and headed back out into the street, his mind on the note.
"S. Moran", it had been signed. It couldn't be Sebastian. Sherlock supposed that it wouldn't have been the first 'resurrection' that had come to light that day, but he had made sure that the sniper was dead. Unless a man, with a bullet through the brain, could come to life again too.
No, this was either a sick joke or somebody else; family, perhaps? Sherlock found himself wishing for the former because, quite honestly, the latter option scared him. A relative - brother; father; uncle; nephew; son? - out for revenge: that wasn't somebody Sherlock really wanted to find himself up against, and he realised he would need help getting information: background on Sebastian Moran and whoever this other "S Moran" might be. He needed Mycroft.
Another thought came to Sherlock: maybe, Lestrade could be useful. He could help to protect John. He balked at the thought of showing himself at New Scotland Yard, and swiftly decided against an all-out reveal. Mycroft trusted Greg - although not enough to have kept him 'in the know' over the past three years - and so Sherlock decided he could risk approaching the Detective Inspector privately.
Alone might protect Sherlock Holmes, but right now he was all too aware that he needed outside help.
As he walked along the street, still unsure exactly where he was heading, he made a decision. "We'll just have to do it like this", he told himself.
Retrieving his mobile phone from his pocket, he scrolled down his contacts until he found the one he needed - Lestrade, Greg - and pressed the call button.