Sherlock spotted a cab just as he left 221B, and called for it. It was around one in the afternoon and the atmosphere was quiet, misty, cold. As if something wasn't quite right. In Sherlock's word, everything was wrong, and he had the horrible feeling things were only going to get worse.
Things always got worse with Jim Moriarty.
When he arrived Sarah's house, it was only typical that Sarah looked worried. She almost hugged Sherlock when she opened the door to him, but instead didn't say a word and let him in. Sherlock asked as soon as he stepped in what room John had occupied himself in in his telephone conversation.
"The living room," she told him.
He didn't say another word and made himself to the front room, examining it with the naked eye. The first thing he spotted was John's coat lying sprawled on the leather sofa, and he frowned.
"Obviously in a hurry, seeing as he left his coat behind," Sherlock said to himself. "Nobody would do that on an afternoon this cold."
Sarah was standing in the doorway. "I dunno, I tried to tell him he left his coat but he wouldn't listen, just kept on saying he had to go. I've tried calling him too-"
"Tried that already, doesn't answer, straight to voicemail," Sherlock muttered. "Obviously implies that he either turned off his phone or there's low signal. No signal would be the more appropriate option, considering that he never turn's off his phone." He looked around the room a bit more and set his eyes on Sarah's cabinet, and walked to it. "Two handprints. Did you touch this, Sarah?"
"No."
"Hmm. John lent against this because he was worried, maybe? Ooh, but what's this…" there was a little piece of paper caught in one of the drawers, and Sherlock pulled it out. He opened it up, and a small smile spread across his rather melancholy expression.
On the paper were the words where people scream, not in pain, but for their love and passion.
"What's that?" Sarah asked, feeling a bit stupid for not having seen the paper.
"John is clever. He wouldn't have written the exact place because that might've put him in more danger, but he knew I was going to come straight here and find this, clever clever John…"
"Um… yeah… what does it mean though?"
His face fell. "No idea. I'm guessing Jim went somewhere I would never associate with, only to make matters harder for me, think think think…"
Sarah sighed, taking John's jacket off the sofa and sitting down, holding it to her chest. She took the remote, switching on the TV, thinking maybe anything could help.
She was right.
"Over to our main story for this afternoon… all routes passing Oval on the underground have been terminated due to the bomb that set off earlier this morning, killing almost seventy people and injuring one hundred. Paul's over at the crime scene…"
Sherlock's face lightened up as he heard the news report on the bomb. Jim, no doubt. A clue, perhaps?
"…there were no suspicious sightings before the bombing, however few people claimed to see some sort of a man in a suit and another man in a jumper looking rather odd looking just before the explosion at the station… if you have any reports, please put them forward…"
Sherlock was confident know. He had an idea of what John's note meant, and hoped it was correct. He turned to Sarah, nodded once to show that she had been of great use and then walked out of the living room.
"Wait!" Sarah called.
Sherlock spun around, narrowing his eyes to show that he was already impatient to find John and return him to safety.
"Give his jacket back to him," she said, holding it out. "At least he won't be cold."
woohooo chapter two. I got a bit lazy so sorry if the writing's a bit bad. D: also I spent a lot of time thinking about where they were and what his note was, and I'm still not sure of my outcome so sorry D: