UGH. LAST EPISODE OF SHERLOCK TONIGHT. I'M NOT READY. ASDFGHJKL;'.

Enjoy.

"A note?" (F/N)'s interest was piqued as she looked up at the consulting detective.

He only nodded, then continued on his way to the crime scene. She could see a small skip in his step, as if he was happy. 'I'm not surprised.' (F/N) thought, knowing that whenever something unexpected happens Sherlock was the one to find joy in the situation.

She continued on her way with John by her side, and she noticed the doctor taking sideways glances at her. Like he wanted to ask something. "Alright…what's your question?" She said suddenly.

"What?" John questioned.

"You have questions. Go right ahead and ask."

He paused, now unsure of what he was going to ask. John opened his mouth a few times to say something, but soon closed it to think about it some more. After a few more moments, he finally spoke. "Yesterday, when you said you've talked to Mycroft before…what did you mean by that?"

(F/N) looked at the ground with a solemn look in her eyes. She absentmindedly rubbed her arms, like she was trying to get warm. "You remembered that then…alright…I'll tell you. Just promise you won't tell Sherlock over there. I don't want him sticking his nose into my personal life any more than he already has." She glanced back at John.

John chuckled softly. "Sure. Count on me."

(F/N) nodded slightly, and looked away from him again. "Okay. Well…when I was sixteen, my parents were killed…and there was a lot of government problems figuring out where I would go. I don't have much family around anymore. Mycroft talked to me and helped me out. Eventually he sent me to a private school, and paid for everything as well. We keep in touch. Mycroft and I are good friends." She explained.

"You're parents were killed?"

(F/N) sighed. "Yes. Stabbed to death then hanged from the ceiling." John could swear he saw her eyes welling up with tears. "It was a long time ago…it doesn't bother me much anymore…"

"But you said they were killed, did you catch who did it?"

"Yeah…eventually they had found him and punished him for what he did. In my opinion they were a little to lenient, but it doesn't matter now. That man is long gone…"

John stayed silent for a little while. Then spoke again. "Is that why you became a detective?" He questioned.

The pair turned a corner after Sherlock. Not much time was left before they reached their destination. "Well…partially. I wanted to help out people that have lost loved ones like I did. I don't want anyone to go through what I did. Especially not the way I did. The other reason was that after the incident, I began to see everything."

"See everything?" He repeated.

(F/N) nodded. "You know how Sherlock 'analyzes' everything. How I 'analyze' everything…well…that came up when I started having panic attacks. Like my brain was scanning everything to make sure that nothing was going to happen. My mind automatically does it to everyone. Even you. If my mind subconsciously thinks that something is dangerous, it'll go into overdrive and find a way out of the situation. It doesn't happen very often however. I'm glad for that. I get massive headaches afterwards."

"I could help. I am a doctor."

(F/N) shook her head again. "No. It's alright. I don't mind it. They don't happen that often. Maybe once every few months or less. And some of the best doctors around couldn't help me. I'm sorry, but I highly doubt you would. Thanks for the offer though." She smiled at John.

John looked for a moment, with no expression, then after looking at her smile for a moment, he found himself smiling as well. "Alright then. Just be careful. And I'm always here if you need me." He said.

"We're here." Sherlock blurted out, turning sharply and climbing a few steps up to the front door of the crime scene.

A few police cars were scattered about, their lights flashing in the damp morning air. Lestrade walked out the front door and over to the trio. "Hello again. I'm sorry for calling you out this early but it needed to be done. If you will all follow me." He said.

Lestrade seemed nervous for some reason. (F/N) was suddenly very wary of the situation, like something could go wrong at any moment. A part of her mind knew that that was insane; the killer only went after married women. But a small piece of fright lingered in her thoughts as she followed Lestrade and the others to the crime scene.