A Study In Sleep

Chapter. 33

It had been roughly half an hour now since they had gotten ready and to the ball.

The room looked absolutely marvelous.. even elegant, which was almost an understatement. Candelabras fixed on the wall held up the lights, accompanied by a beautiful glass chandler on the ceiling. The walls were decorated beautifully and the floors were symmetrically tiled, which created a soft tap sound whenever one would walk on or dance on it with such brogues, oxfords or decent shoes.

A miniature stage laid on one half of the hall and in the middle, where the musicians were. All mostly rather old but classical instruments, to say the least. Playing beautifully, masses of people were dancing a waltz. The traditional.

One, two, three.

John took a deep breath, making sure his mask was fixed onto his face. It was only small, however was rather elegant at the same time. Coordinating with his suit wonderfully. All black part from some nice silver details on it.
Like a penguin, his suit was black and white. The traditional thing any gentleman would wear to any formal event, along with a nice set of Oxfords- not brogues.

Sherlock constantly rambled and grumbled every second he got changed into a black and white suit, with a bow tie and a mask with slight parts of gold on it. He stepped into the ball, still grumbling as he scowled under the mask, stropping around like a child. He didn’t want to be here and still he had the weird feeling in his stomach. Though upon seeing John he paused momentarily as he gazed over him and didn’t he look wonderful.  He stepped close, smirking down to John with bright green eyes behind the mask.
“You look... wonderful.” He breathed, Sherlock’s curly hair and green eyes giving it away that it was him let alone his deep, low voice.
"And you look absolutely.. ravishing.." John replied, smiling back up to Sherlock. Absolutely dazzled by how his lover looked, he pressed a small kiss to the detective's lips.

"Quit the lovey dovey stuff guys.." Frank mumbled, joining the two, as he wore the opposite of their suits. White and black with a black bowtie and a full black mask with no extra detail.
"We've got work to do.." he passed Sherlock the violin case, "go to the stage and keep an eye out.." he instructed, gesturing to the stage. "Me and John will search out on the floor.." he smirked slightly, taking John by the hand and quickly ran off before John could protest.

Sherlock’s heart sank as he watched this, opening his mouth to protest but they had already gone and he was stood there all on his own as he watched the man he loved with a man he hated. Everything was wrong, everything about this was wrong. He shakily sighed, taking the violin from it’s case as he reluctantly stepped on the stage and started to play but his blue sharp eyes was on everything and especially John, his eyes full of hurt and worry over the whole thing. He also was exceptionally jealous of the whole thing, wanting to be on the floor with the man he loved but here he was singled out once again over a total arsehole.

The music carried on playing as Frank dragged John over to the punch bowl and let go of his hand as he poured out two glasses of punch.

John almost felt on edge with this atmosphere and couldn't help but keep an eye out, as he listened to the music and avoided being stomped on by other people in their ridiculous stilettos and shoes.
However he absolutely loved the sound of the music, especially Sherlock playing the violin. It sounded so beautiful and perfect. Each note hitting it's mark wonderfully.

"We best try to find Moran.." Frank noted, taking a drink of the punch, and handed John the second glass,
"He probably won't even be in here yet.." John replied, his eye staying on Sherlock for the moment as he took the glass and had a sip from it,
"That's why we should go scout out the building a little more.." Milles replied, as he put his glass down and took John's hand. Not even waiting for John to put his glass down, instead making the blogger almost drop it through surprise as they disappeared from the room.

Sherlock met John’s gaze for a long moment, blue eyes bright and full of worry as well as jealousy but he tried to keep it at bay. Though upon seeing Frank drag John out by the hand he stopped playing as he stepped forward to follow them, heart racing with worry. But he was dragged back one of the other musicians.
“Oi oi you can’t leave yet!” He whispered to which Sherlock immediately scowled at, eyes darting back to the door only to see that John and Frank had disappeared. He reluctantly and very wearily started to play again as he gazed out to the room, blue eyes sharp and shifting from one person to another, his heart racing.

The music carried on for a few moments before a butler, not too far away from the stage, got up onto the stage and began tapping the side of the glass with a spoon. In an attempt to get everyone's attention.
"Just as a notification for you all, I am sorry to say the host may be taking a little longer than expected.." he began talking, to which the crowd sighed slightly.
"No worries though, you can still dance about and listen to the music.." he grinned, gesturing to Sherlock and the rest of the musicians to begin playing again.

Sherlock’s face was full of worry at this as he quickly scanned over the large room of people. His heart sank as he didn’t see John and reluctantly he resumed playing, blue eyes alert and wide. This wasn’t right, this Frank was not right, not at all and he was flirting around with his boyfriend too... it had to stop.

The music resumed momentarily before...

B A N G !

A loud gunshot could be heard. And before anybody could register where the sound came from, hell broke loose.
The crowd screaming and panicking as they ran towards the exit, glasses and things abandoned in panic.

As soon as Sherlock heard the gunshot his world almost stopped, everything going in slow motion as he immediately stopped playing the violin, his heart racing and he immediately became nauseous, like something was affecting him. He knew, he just knew.
“N-No...” he whispered under his breath as he sprinted off the stage, though it felt like he was going in slow motion. His eyes were wide, full of fear as he sprinted out the door John disappeared out of, coming into a large hallway, but he couldn’t see the blogger anywhere. Where was he? Where was his John?

“John? JOHN?!” He cried as he began to become emotional, eyes wide and hand shaking as he darted into every room he could find, but he was nowhere.
“JOHN?! J...” he cut off as he began to whimper for the blogger, heart racing as he began to head up the large set of stairs, stumbling and tripping every few steps as he began to panic.

It was at that moment, from a door not too far away a masked man ran out. Running quickly. A small but easily concealable, pistol in his bloody hand as he did. His identity hidden remarkably behind his golden mask.

It was the room to the library, and the man had left it open. A bloody hand attempted to grip onto but failed miserably at the person presumably fell against the door. Obviously the victim of the attack.

Sherlock bragged heavily as he saw a golden masked man run out of a room, seemingly a library and he instantly knew that man was the suspect, culprit even. Though as he went after him he instantly paused seeing the victim on the floor and vomit began to rise to his mouth when he saw a mask... a black and silver mask... almost identical to John’s.
“N-No.. no...” he cried as he put a hand to his mouth, eyes filling up.