Sherlock finally left John's house at about 8. His brother still hadn't made any attempt to contact him.
It really isn't like Mycroft to give up... Sherlock thought. Then Sherlock thought even harder. It isn't like Mycroft to give up... what the hell is he planning?!
Sherlock immediately dialed his brother's number and called it.
"Brother dear, you finally decide to give me a call. It's very late, you know. I was getting worried."
"Don't even start with me Mycroft," Sherlock snapped. "What the hell have you been doing all day?"
"Well, you ran off, so I've been home all day, waiting for you to check in."
"Yeah, sure, right after you decided to get some friends together for a cup of tea, right? What the hell have you been up to? I swear to God, if you do anything to John, I will kill you."
"Relax, Sherlock. You worry too much. Nothing is going to happen to John. You, however... you couldn't be too careful, Sherlock."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Sherlock shouted into the phone. There was a laugh before the call was ended.
"Mycroft!"
Silence. Sherlock locked his phone and whipped around. There was nobody there.
"Bloody git... what the hell is he-"
Before Sherlock knew what had happened, he was jumped. He felt a needle slide into his neck before he went unconscious.