John lifted the lid. The inside of the small wooden box was roughly lined with cheap red velvet. Resting on the velvet was an unmarked CD. Picking it up, John offered it to Lestrade. The DI accepted it and held it under the light to examine it.
After a minute, Lestrade said, "Well, I have absolutely no idea."
"It could be from him." John offered, gesturing to his mobile. Lestrade nodded in response, handing the disc back to John.
"Are you going to have a look at it, then?"
"I suppose so." John fished out his computer and put the unmarked disc in the drive.
It was an audio recording.
The first few seconds were almost silent except for a sound like a footstep or someone setting a mug on the table. Then there was music. It wasn't a very full sound; it was a solo violin playing a song John almost recognized.
John's eyes were drawn sharply to the corner where Sherlock's violin rested, untouched. He felt a dull ache bloom in his chest.
"The texter sent it."
"Wha—how do you know?"
"I told him I was missing the sounds of… that it was too quiet here now. He must've sent it to me."
"Is it Sh— who do you reckon is playing?"
"Dunno. It sounds a bit like him, I suppose." John swallowed, "I'm not that familiar with music myself. It could be anyone."
The two listened in silence until Lestrade's phone rang, disrupting their reverie.
"Lestrade. Yes. No, yesterday. No don't touch it. I'll be right in."
Lestrade turned back to John with an apologetic look on his face. "I can't leave for two hours without them messing something up. You'll let me know if there's anything weird about it, yeah?"
"Yeah. Of course."
"Well, then. See you later, John."
Over the next few days, John began listening to the anonymous violinist after work. It was calming and made him feel almost normal. He even estimated that he recognized 80% of the songs. Of course, by Wednesday he knew all of them. John even started to doze off in his chair while listening to the soft violin music. His dreams were colourful and emotional, changing from peaceful to frantic. He heard Sherlock's voice say something, but when he jolted awake, the dream faded into nothing.
By Thursday evening, John was surprised that he still hadn't received a reply to his text. He was not particularly worried about the lack of response because the package was so likely from the same man, but he would rather have some confirmation.
Did you send the package?
A few moments later, through the solo violin music, John thought he heard something. He turned off the music, but the flat was silent.
Work on Friday was tiresome and after arriving home, John felt a flash of annoyance at the texter. Why hadn't he heard back?
What is going on?
As he hadn't turned the music on, yet, John could clearly hear a muffled buzzing a few moments after he sent the text. Cautiously, John walked across the room, trying to find the source of the noise. Suddenly struck with an idea, John sent another text.
Hello?
This time, John was prepared and was able to pinpoint the source of the buzzing: the wooden box was vibrating. John studied the outside of the box and then opened it and studied the inside. Now that he thought about it, the box was shallower than it should have been. Picking at the velvet lining, John was able to peel it back and reveal a false bottom to the box. Mildly impressed, John opened it.
Sherlock's phone lay quietly inside.
A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews! I wanted to get this out sooner so I wouldn't keep you guys in suspense for too long. We're getting close to the end of the story, but let me know what you think and I may write a bit more. I am planning on starting another fic soon, so watch out for that, too. Thanks again!