Chapter Text
Greg had just arrived at work when he got the call. Fuming- all his contacts knew perfectly well not to contact him via his private number during his working hours- he picked up the mobile ready to tear into whoever it was on the other end. The blocked number gave him pause. Greg didn't give out his private number to anyone but a few people. His ex-wife. John. Sherlock. Donovan. Anderson. Mycroft- not that he'd ever actually given his number to the man, but he had no doubt that somehow Holmes had access to it. Being a policeman, he had to be cautious. But then again, being a detective, he had to take risks, too.
"Hello?"
John had just put the kettle on for tea when he got the call. Assuming it was Sherlock- the man had been out all night doing god knew what- he picked it up intending to give him a stern talking-to about eating enough. He hesitated upon seeing the blocked number. Associating with Sherlock made one inherently wary of anything dangerous. In particular, John had good cause to be careful, being well known as Sherlock's best friend and partner. But he hadn't gone with Sherlock to that first crime scene for no reason. John lived for danger. He couldn't help it.
"Hello?"
Molly had just put on her lab coat ready to cut open a fresh cadaver when she got the call. She sighed. Answering calls during work was such a pain, and she was tempted to let it go to voice mail, but the hope that it might be Sherlock encouraged her to pick up her mobile. Molly didn't think there was anything particularly odd about the blocked number, except that she couldn't think of anyone she'd given her number to recently. She considered ignoring the call, but politeness got the better of her.
"Hello?"
"Please. Please I don't know who they've called but whoever you are help me!- John, please- aaah- help... Molly, Greg- aaaah!- Mycroft help me I can't-"
The call cut off.
The voice was unmistakeably Sherlock's. Sherlock's voice, but tortured, strangled, gasping. Molly turned white and buckled at the knees. John's hand shook as he carefully placed the teapot back down on the table. Greg stared, stunned, at the phone in his hand for a split second before hollering at the top of his voice for assistance.