Little more story developement.

I do not own Sherlock.

John sat and stared at the images he had hung above the mantle. They were rather grusome but he had to look. The similarity to Sherlock and that was all he could see. He hit himself in the face trying to concentrate and suddenly it clicked. It wasn't thier looks that fit them together. At least it wasn't the main link. He picked up his phone. He needed a second opinion.

Need you to come.
Found something.
John W.

He looked at the images again then at the little slips of paper next to them. He had to be right.

Coming right away. Have
work to finish. Thank you.
Mycroft Holmes

He started to look around the images and he smiled. The pieces seemed to fall into place.

Sherlock knew he was alone. They had left and he was alone. He knew he was in a round room. There was no light at all. He hadn't even seen a door open. He closed his eyes, as if it made any difference. The area was damp but didn't smell old. He was in a metal warehouse of some sort. He felt a rock at his foot anf picked it up with his toe. He started to swing and threw the rock where he thought the sound of his voice had fallen flat. Sure enough the rock hit something that was not the side of the building. Wooden crate of some sort.

He let out a small chirp and listened. He nodded then did it the other direction. The room was smaller than his initial thought. Part of it was carpeted and the part he was over was tiled. Not tiled. Cement so they could cover the blood. Someone owned this and knew how to cover it if the cops came looking. Sherlock flexed his hands and realised he was in handcuffs and that was why he felt like his hands were going numb. With his feet barely touching he probably wouldn't be able to run. He also had no clue where the exit was.

John nodded ot each picture then turned to Mycroft," I started to think the way that I thought Sherlock would. He said thier was a pattern. If he ever finished his thoughts then I would know more. It took a while but look at the youngest is first making Sherlock the oldest so far."

"There is no pattern other than he happens to be the oldest."

"Look. the birthdays are not in that kind of order. This person seems to have a sort of OCD. Look. The ages are by murder 1:21, 2;26 , 3:24 , 4:30 , 5:28 and now Sherlock who is 32. If w switch all the odds and evens starting at two but onlty switch them once the ages are from youngest to oldest. he skips two and goes back one skips two back one. See."

"That is a long shot." Mycroft said, but nodded nontheless. He was probably seeing so much more than John but he wasn't Sherlock and was out of practice with this.

"But that was all Sherlock ever needed. He put them in order for us. I just had to look. Brilliant. He's not here and still solving the case. So I also looked up thier adresses. See this. He made a circle. All the dots of the murders and thier adresses. They make almost a perfect circle and the bodies make a sort of inner circle."

"And the bodies are shifted over about a block. That means Sherlock will be in this area when they..." Mycroft stopped in his tracks.

"We will find them before then. We will." John said, more to assure himself than Mycroft.

Sherlock rubbed his head and felt the paperclip he kept hidden in his curls. No one would be able to find it unless they were washing his head, scrubbing it, or knew it was there. He had an idea of how to get out but he wasn't sure where out was. He shook his head. The only way out of this so far was if John figured it out because Sherlock wasn't thinking right. He had never been in shock before but he assumed this would be what it felt like. he heard the echo of a door open and shuddered.

Thank you to Redbelladonna and April for your reviews. Hope this helps and sorry about spelling. No spell check. I'll have someone fix it later when I get somone who can.