John stares at the red and white flecked blur, pulse loud in his ears as he tries to make sense of the image.
'John?' Greg's on his feet in an instant, 'Is something wrong?'
'I don't think so,' John says slowly, tilting his head in a vain attempt to clarify exactly what he's looking at, 'but I expect Mycroft will be along in a second to explain things.'
'Mycroft?'
'Yes,' John says as he hears the front door go, palming his Browning from the side of the chair anyway, 'I hope so.'
'John?' Mycroft calls as he pushes the door open, 'Ah and Gregory. Yes ... I believe my brother has been in contact?'
'This,' John hands Mycroft his phone while lowering the gun, 'is definitely from Sherlock then?'
Mycroft looks unsettled by the picture and John shuffles himself out of the chair, 'What's happened?'
'Be calm, John,' Mycroft's placid mask is back in place instantly, 'and sit down ... I'm merely surprised he would send that on an unsecured connection.'
'I don't think you need worry, if I can't identify it I doubt anyone else can.'
Mycroft looks at the photo again and gives a sliver of a smile, 'Well it was Colin Moran, son of Sebastian and doting cousin to dear Jim. Now though, it's just so much blood and bone.'
