The Swan Queen | Sherlock

The Game Begins

 I woke up alone. All was quiet in James's home. I must have fallen asleep on the couch last night, as a blanket had been carefully placed over me. I ventured into the kitchen and made myself a cup of tea, before switching on the TV for company and admiring the view from the window of outside.

The piano caught my eye from across the room. It had a thin layer of dust forming, inviting me to play. I sat myself down on the stool and pressed a few random keys. When I played, my fingers took control, moving seamlessly, creating music. I would often zone out and just let my fingers do all the work.

It's like I was in a trance. Unbreakable and powerful. All I could hear was the music I was making. But then I heard the words 'explosion' and 'Baker Street' and the trance was broken. I twisted to look at the TV, my mouth opening from shock. I clambered closer to the screen, falling to my knees in front of it.

"Sherlock..." I breathed heavily.

My phone. I needed my phone. It was still on the kitchen counter, buzzing with alerts. Dozens of missed calls from Mycroft that had stopped midmorning. Texts from friends asking if I was alright. It started ringing in my hand. John's name flashed up. He must have seen the news too.

I answered. "John?"

"Sam! Thank god you're alright. Where are you?"

I looked all around the room, biting my lip. "At a friend's. I didn't go home last night. Where are you?"

"Just leaving Sarah's. Have you heard from anyone? Sherlock?"

"No. Mycroft tried phoning me several times earlier but I missed his calls. He hasn't tried again for a while."

"Where about's are you? I'll come get you."

"No! It's fine, I'll make my own way. See you soon."

I hung up and hurried to collect my things. I made it to Baker Street at the same time as John. Both of us were startled by the scene. Rubble everywhere, police and fire crew. "Must have been a gas explosion," I said, looking at John. "Did you sleep on a sofa last night?"

"Yes, how did you... never mind."

We hurried into 221B, our hearts pounding. We needn't have been worried, for there was Sherlock and Mycroft, perfectly fine. The windows were shattered, but that appeared to be the only damage. All was well. I could have stayed at James's.

"And where were you last night?" asked Mycroft, after deducing as well that John had slept on the sofa.

"With a friend," I replied.

"A male friend?"

My eyes narrowed. "That's none of your concern."

Realising everything was ok, I retreated to my room and sent a text to James. I also texted Mark to say I would be late for rehearsals. He had heard about the explosion, and so said it was alright.

I listened from my room as Mycroft offered a case to Sherlock, who seemed very uninterested. I heard Mycroft leave, Sherlock play the violin, and then the sound of Sherlock and John leaving. "Heading out, Sam!" John called.

I changed clothes and prepared myself for practise. My phone suddenly ringing startled me. I assumed it was another well-wisher making sure I was alright, but the number was unknown. My heart skipped a beat. M...

I answered. "Hello?"

Silence on the other line.

"Hello?"

"H-hello, Artemis..." came the voice of a crying woman. "I j-just wanted t-t-to w-wish y-y-you luck."

Something was amiss. I played along, curious. "Oh? And why would I need luck?"