The Message from Nobody

As the sun rose onto the cold, snow-covered town of London, a sliver of sun peeked through the curtains that awoke John. He squinted at first, the light shining in his face, but then gained his normal eyesight back. He looked across where his friend was sleeping early that morning, but he wasn't there

'Sherlock?" John called.

No answer

"Sherlock!" John yelled

"For God's sake, John" a familiar voice said in annoyance, "I'm over here"

John got up to see Sherlock in the kitchen, staring at the microscope (as always). He sighed as he finally noticed what the time was. 9:34a.m.

"How long have you been up?" John asked as he watched him.

"I don't know when I got up; I don't pay much attention to time." Sherlock answered

"Ok"

"You were right you know."

"About…about what"

"Mycroft did drug me this morning." Sherlock turned his neck to face John, "I took my blood sample. It was some drug, didn't have time to find out what.

John watched as Sherlock stuck out his hand and motioned something from in John's pocket. John looked down and saw his phone. He handed it to Sherlock. He took it and turned it around. He typed with his thumb as he watched his microscope closely. When he finished, he placed it on the table.

"Who did u text?" John asked. Sherlock looked at him, annoyed.

"Lestrade." He finally answered, "We're going out". He jumped from his chair and grabbed his coat, wrapped his scarf around his neck, threw his phone into his pocket and headed out the door.

"Don't you think it's a little dangerous to be walking around after what…?" John started. But he realized there no use. Sherlock was already up and running. John hurried down the stairs and followed Sherlock down the road. The pair took turn after turn until they reached the pub they went to last night. Sherlock stood behind a nearby building and looked at the closed pub from the window.

"What…what is it?" John looked over his shoulder, "It's closed". But Sherlock wasn't listening. He mumbled to himself as he made his way closer to the window. Then he started to run. John followed as they followed the same path from last night, but this time, he stopped a few feet away from where they originally stopped.

As John followed, he started to piece together what he thought Sherlock was doing. When the stopped at the last place they went to before Baker Street, is when John noticed Sherlock was on his phone typing. He strolled to a nearby park bench and sat, looking at his phone.

John sat near him and tried to look over what he was doing. He thought he was texting someone, But that wasn't the case. Sherlock was deep in thought as he looked at the jumble of gibberish on the screen. John watched cabbies go by and people passing them

His black curls melted down to his brow, which lead to his pale, white skin. His long neck and body was hunched over this small device. John, being a doctor, knew that he was confused and not getting enough sleep. But, of course he was Sherlock Holmes. And he wasn't a normal human being.

He wasn't even a human being. He was a machine. Didn't think he had to eat. Or sleep. And always put himself over others. He was better than anyone. He loved the thrill of the chase. He loved the risk of taking his life. He loved the danger in it all He was 'The Great Sherlock Holmes". But John was probably the only person that ever saw Sherlock as a real person that did make mistakes. And sometimes, but not always, needed help.

After about 10 minutes, John was going to speak when Sherlock turned to him and started into his hazel eyes.

"Did you see it?" Sherlock questioned. John looked at him confused.

"What…see what?"

"Did you see it?!"

"No...See what?!"

"The message!"

"What message?"

"ughhh" Sherlock grumbled angrily. He stood up and put his hands up to his face. He glanced at John, wondering how such a doctor like him could miss something so obvious.

"You can't tell me you didn't see it. It was the same thing in every time…" Sherlock started

"You expected me to pay attention to something else? I was trying to make sure I could catch up with you, you maniac. "John said sternly as he started him, right in the eyes. Sherlock looked back into both his eyes, changed his face to a sort of understanding, nodded, and sat back down. He turned to his friend.

"Look. At every placed he stopped, he left a sign, a letter or a number" Sherlock explained, " There were about 3 in each spot" He showed John the letters. All separate. It read: HSE REH TUC MP9 ESU OHE RAW 390 SYN NEJ DLO 143 220.

John studied the letters and number. He searched for any patterns. He signed. Sherlock stood sat and looked too.

"You were an army doctor. You had codes, didn't you?" Sherlock asked. John looked at him and shook his head.

"No Shit, Sherlock…" John said. He had always wanted to use that with him. He looked at his face. Sherlock looked shocked and a smirk reached across his face.

"~Even better than I expected…~" he thought as he smiled and has a small laugh and went back to cracking it.

"~He always wanted to do that~" Sherlock thought to himself. He smiled as he watched John's eyes dart from one set of letters to the next.

"Now I know what its like to be you…" John said out loud suddenly.

"Nope…you have no idea…" Sherlock scoffed. They glanced at each other and shared a small laugh and a smile reached across their faces, a sight not seen for a while.

Suddenly, Sherlock stopped and looked up. "What's the date?

"It's February 23…"

"Stupid…Stupid…It's all so clear now…" Sherlock murmured. John looked up, still confused.

"You got it?"

"Yes. Yes. Brilliant! Yes, I got it"

"Well, what is it?"

Sherlock smiled and laughed in relief of completion. "I don't think I'm going to tell you just yet…" he snickered…

John looked annoyed. "Are you serious…All this time and you're not even going to tell me what it says?"

"Nope."

"Sherlock."

"What?"

"You're an asshole"

"Like you've never told me before"

"What the hell does it say?"

"You'll know soon enough, my dear Watson" Sherlock concluded and started to stroll back to Baker Street. John just stood there, annoyed. But there was no use in trying. Sherlock was right. He would find out soon enough. And so, with that, he followed Sherlock, back to Baker Street and the only problem left was how Sherlock would risk their lives…a second time.