So who's ready for some more D.N.A? Yeah?

So this one we get to know a bit more about Anna, her past- how she feels. Stuff like that.

PLUS- we get an explanation to the title of the fic! Yay!

Plus, I had some fun with all the forensic terms. I'm 95 percent sure I got it all correct. In the chance I got something wrong, I apologize.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock, just Anna (And Leslie, seen in this chapter)

"Holmes! We need these hair samples analyzed to make this arrest!"

"Don't forget to check this fabric for any Explosives trace. Need it ASAP."

"Have you run those fingerprints yet? I needed them yesterday, Holmes."

"I need a ballistics report done—test this gun for a match."

"Did you submit that Fiber Analysis report yet?"

Anna stood at her lab table, hands clutching the edges of the metal, her head hung as she tried to keep a level head. Eyes closed; she took deep breaths trying desperately just to remember to breathe. The normal onslaught of inquiries to her was nothing new; detectives knew they could go to her and have their results done in a timely manner. But this week? Today? All Anna wanted to do was stay at home in her flat, crawl into a dark corner of her room and forget the world outside existed.

But she couldn't. The world wouldn't let her.

"—lmes- Holmes!"

"What?!" Anna exclaimed, her head snapping up and fixing the other lab tech with a killer glare. He shrank back- only slightly- but stood his ground.

"The Mass-Spec has been beeping at you the past ten minutes! Get your results so others can use the machine."

Her knuckles white from the death grip on her table, she released her hold and stalked over to the mass-spectrometer and grabbed her analysis reports. Heading back to her table she slammed the papers down on the cold surface before wordlessly grabbing the coat sitting over her chair and walking out the door- ignoring the protests of the other lab techs.

"Bloody psychopath," one of them muttered, shaking their head at her retreating figure. As she left Scotland Yard, she brought her mobile to her ear and waited for an answer.

"Miller," a female voice answered.

"I—I… need," Anna choked out, trying to stay composed," Chat. Please."

"Anna? Is that you?"

"Yes."

"Alright—come on in. I had someone cancel so I'm free until 2." Without further word, Anna hung up the phone and hailed a cab, giving them the address as she got in.

0o0o

Half hour later, Anna sat on the long couch, head in her hands as her elbows rested on her knees. Her hands were dug into her hair and she unconsciously bit at her bottom lip.

"You're very… tense, Anna. Talk to me, what's on your mind?"

Minutes ticked by, as Anna just sat there, staring at the floor beneath her. Finally, she cracked," Week."

"Week?" a red-headed woman questioned, moving some papers in a book that rested on her lap," Last week of June… Ah, yes. I see."

Again, silence stretched until Anna almost jumped up from the spot on the couch and began pacing- arms crossed in front of her chest. Her brown eyes narrowed as the endless thoughts swarmed her mind. The same thoughts that plagued her mind every year at this time. It was a cycle that—no matter how hard she tried—it never ceased.

"Anna, I need you to talk to me. You know it won't help any to keep it in."

"It also doesn't help to talk it over, either," Anna mused darkly, keep her stare on the door.

"If you didn't want to talk, you wouldn't have come here."

More silence stretched until Anna's shoulders visibly slumped, her hands falling to her sides; turning back around, she walked over to the couch and sat down gently.

"Now, what's on your mind?"

"Everything, Leslie. Every single thing is on my mind," Anna answered, resuming her original position of head in her hands," It's like a broken record… just keeps skipping on repeat—no matter how I try to ignore it or work past it."

"How does that make you feel?"

"Irritated!" Anna exclaimed, standing up in a rush," Frustrated! Like—like everything I'm doing is a waste of time! Like… like I…"

"Like you… what?"

"Like I don't matter," Anna whispered, defeat obvious in her voice.

"We've gone over that before, Anna," Leslie said, leaning forward.

"I know we have, but—"

"No buts. Now, I want to hear you say it," Leslie interrupted, causing Anna to look over at her.

"I… I do matter. I… have people… that care."

"Good," Leslie smiled, leaning back in her chair," Now, in two days—with it being your birthday-"

"Please—don't—"

"Anna," Leslie frowned, causing the younger girl to quiet," As I was saying, with it being your birthday in two days' time- it's bound to bring up some unwilling memories and thoughts. To some, it's a day they are born—but to others, like yourself—it's the day that you were given up by your biological family. That single event pushed you into an endless cycle of temporary homes and fleeting faces."

Anna stayed silent, prompting Leslie to continue," That experience alone? Cast upon a young child? Is enough to cause even the best of us to have thoughts of being unwanted and cast away. So, I ask you—what is it about all this, that is causing you the turmoil that you feel? What—the past week—has been the major issue for you?"

Leslie let Anna think for a few moments, the silence stretching over the room. All you could hear was the 'tic' of the wall clock and the muted traffic down on the streets below.

"Well…" Anna slowly began, her eyes gazing unseeing at the chair across from her," I... I don't… I mean, this might not make any sense…"

"Try."

"Sometimes… it just feels… almost like I'm not there? Like I'm seeing everything, and I know—like, physically, I know—what I'm doing, saying—all that. But… mentally? It's like I'm seeing it from the side. Like someone else is in charge? I hear their voice every so often—and it worries me. The things they say…"

"How do you feel when this 'other person' takes charge?"

"My mind… it gets all fuzzy… like an older telly—with the static? Or a frosted glass window?" Anna tried explaining," No matter what I do though, I—I can't… concentrate. Like, normally—when my mind's all over the place, I can concentrate on one single thing—and I instantly am better. But when this… other being? Is in charge? Nothing works. And…"

"And?"

"After the fuzziness hits… then the paranoia does too, and suddenly I'm doubting everything and everyone. Even myself. Sherlock—Mycroft. Mummy. All of them. I doubt every single thing they do and say. The little static blips on the radio give me pause and I feel the unsettled feeling all over. It makes it hard to breathe—and sometimes I feel like I'm struggling to breathe—then the panic sets in and it's like an ice bath has just been poured over me from head to toe."

Still staring unseeing at the chair, Anna could hear the noises of a pen on paper- but paid it no mind. Finally, after a few moments, Anna looked over at Leslie—helplessness evident in her eyes- as she asked," What's wrong with me? Why—why am I like… like this?"

"Anna…" Leslie hesitated, seeming to choose her words carefully, before leaning forward a bit," There is nothing—nothing wrong with you. You've been through a lot at such a young age—things are bound to pop up due to it all. Couple that with stress from your job and irregular sleep patterns."

"But… if I sleep—then… then the…"

"I know, dear. I know. I'm just saying. All these factors combined? It's not going to make your life any easier. I would suggest getting away from work for a bit. Take some time off—some time for you. Do something you love to do—when was the last time you baked just for the enjoyment of baking? Or played the piano?"

"I haven't had…. Time…"

"Yes—you have had. You just choose to fill that time with more work. Now- about—"

A soft knock at the door interrupted Leslie, as she looked at the watch on her wrist. Standing up, she sent an apologetic grimace to Anna," I'm sorry, Anna. That'll be my 2-o'clock. We can try getting you in later this week, if you'd like?"

"Hmm? Oh… no—no that's okay," Anna shook her head," Thanks though… I'll… I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Anna nodded, trying to appear more certain," Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Leslie."

"Not a problem, Anna. I'll see you next time then." With a nod, Anna walked out the room and headed back to the last place she wanted to be right now. Work.

After knowing she was gone, Leslie looked up to her assistant, asking," Let Jeffery know I'll be right out for him. I just need to make a quick phone call."

"Of course, Ms. Miller." Her assistant closed the door behind her, as Leslie picked up her desk phone and called the number on Anna's folder. Three rings in, a male voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Mister Holmes? This is Leslie Miller."

"What can I do for you, Ms. Miller?"

"I'm afraid it's Anna. She came in for a last minute session. You told me to keep you updated on her status, especially at this time of the year?"

"What have you found?"

"Unfortunately, it seems her mental state may be dwindling- however, slowly. She mentioned to me today, about a voice that she hears, within her mind. The things it says worries her. When this voice takes over, her mind gets fuzzy and paranoia sets in- then panic."

"Is the voice just in her mind?"

"For now, it seems to be," Leslie nodded," Unfortunately, she also mentioned doubting everyone- yourself included, and even doubting herself. And…"

"Go on."

"She mentioned that she pauses whenever static blips on the radio pass through."

"Hmm…"

"You asked me to keep an eye on anything—but over the past seven years, it has slowly devolved towards—"

"Yes, I am aware. Unfortunately, all of this. The paranoia… the night terrors… the mind capacity… it all stems from her biologic family, to which there is nothing anyone can do."

"Do you want me to start her on some medication? Perhaps some Aripiprazol?"

"No, let's not get her accustomed to too many medications. Last thing we need is for her to become dependent on them."

"Very well."

"If that is all, Ms. Miller?"

"Yes, Mr Holmes, it is. Have a nice day."

"You as well, Ms Miller—oh, and do remember. Our little chats do not make their way back to Annalise."

"Of course, sir."

0o0o

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Anna kept repeating this to herself, as she walked through Scotland Yard with the reports that she had been hounded for earlier. As she handed them off to the detectives, she didn't even stop to talk to any of them—until she got to her last Inspector and handed him the ballistics report. Beginning to walk away, she heard him mutter," Holmes better not be right."

"Come again?" Anna asked him, turning around.

"What? Oh- not you, sorry," Detective Inspector Dimmock apologized," Lestrade's busy—so I got caught working this case with Sherlock."

"What case is it?"

"The one in question—a suicide, rather, apparent suicide. Your brother seems to think murder."

"He's probably right," Anna chuckled, causing Dimmock to frown," Hey—just saying. I know my brother. If he thinks something, its more often than not how he says."

"This guy was in a locked room—no one had a key. Doors locked. Up on a balcony with windows shut. No sign of anyone else in the flat. Gun in hand. You tell me that's not suicide!"

"Why's Sherlock say murder?"

"Well—I mean. Apparently, our victim, Van Coon, is left-handed."

"Lemme guess. Bullets on the right side?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Only reason Sherlock would base the 'suicide' on being a murder," Anna explained," Anyway. Must be getting back to the lab. Best of luck with the case, Dimmock. Working with Sherlock- you'll need it. Just remember—he's almost always right, so… just save yourself some breath and listen to him."

0o0o

The next morning, Anna walked over to D.I Dimmock's desk once more- yet another ballistics report in her hands.

"Here you go, hot off the press," Anna told him, handing over the report to his waiting hands," Ballistics report on your victim Brian Lukis."

"Any matches in the system?"

"Unfortunately- yes and no. The bullet didn't match the gun we found at the scene—but it did match the bullet from the Van Coon case."

Dimmock grimaced in annoyance as he stared at the report—then looked up in exasperation, muttering," Great." Anna looked over her shoulder and saw Sherlock and John walking their way.

"G'morning, Anna."

"Good morning, John—Sherlock."

"Are you—alright? You look tired," John asked, causing Anna to shrug in indifference.

"I'm fine, don't you worry."

Sherlock glanced to his sister, but kept quiet, before turning his attention to Dimmock.

"Brian Lukis, freelance journalist," Sherlock began instantly, pulling the D.I's laptop towards him and typing away," Murdered in his flat." Sherlock turned the laptop around- showing Anna and Dimmock the webpage on Lukis' murder the previous night.

"Doors locked, from the inside."

"You've gotta admit, it's similar," John said, as Dimmock scowled at the computer in silence.

"This about the Van Coon case from yesterday?" Anna asked, to which she got a nod from John.

"Both men killed by someone who can…. Walk through solid walls."

"Inspector," Sherlock stated, leaning over the desk," Do you seriously believe that Eddie Van Coon was just another city suicide?" Anna noticed the young Detective Inspector squirm in his seat as he avoided Sherlocks eyes. Her brother straightened up with an exasperated sigh.

"You have the ballistics report, I suppose?"

"Mhmm," Dimmock nodded, glancing briefly at Anna.

"And the shot that killed him- was it fired from his own gun?"

"No," Anna shook her head," Was no match in the system at all for the bullet found— with the exception of the bullet from yesterday."

Sherlock nodded in silent triumph," No. So, this investigation might move a bit quicker if you were to take my word as gospel." Dimmock looked back at him silent as Sherlock leaned back over the desk, speaking quietly yet intensely. "I've just handed you a murder enquiry. Five minutes in his flat."

"Fine!" Dimmock exclaimed exasperated, standing up from his desk," Let me grab the keys from evidence." As he disappeared, Anna turned a slightly amused look to her brother and his new friend.

"Sherlock," Anna drawled out his name, as he turned his attention to her," Play. Nice."

0o0o

"—stopping here?" Anna turned around at the sound of the voice.

"Ah, John. Sherlock. Nice to see you again, so soon too. What can I do for you?"

"Can you—er—get any—thing. Off this?" Sherlock rasped, trying to clear his throat.

"You alright Sher?" Anna asked, taking the scarf from him," Wait—this is your scarf—what am I supposed to look for, exactly?"

"Any—er. Any foreign skin cells. Identification."

"Right—what's this about?"

Anna turned around and laid the scarf out of the examination table but got no answer from either.

"Where about should I test for these foreign epithelial cells you got me look for?"

"H-here. And here," Sherlock pointed out, before turning to leave. Anna turned towards him and called out.

"Oi! You didn't answer—what's with the rasp in your voice?"

"Ir—errr—irrelevant."

"Seriously?" Anna asked, hand on her hip as she rolled her eyes at her brother," When it comes to family Sherlock, irrelevancy D.N.A. You know that."

"H-how long until that-ts done?"

"Shouldn't be too long," Anna sighed, turning back around and resuming her testing.

"Good. John, catch up to me then. B-be at the museum."

"Yeah," John nodded as Sherlock completely disappeared from the room. After a few silent moments, John broke the silence.

"D.N.A?"

"Should be some on here—if someone other than my brother handled the scarf," Anna nodded absentmindedly.

"No," John gave a soft smile," Just now—with Sherlock. You said irrelevancy D.N.A"

"Oh, that," Anna gave a soft laugh, looking to her side at John," It's something I've always told Sherlock—and Mycroft—since I joined the Holmes family. D.N.A just means Does Not Apply."

John nodded in understanding," Cute, I like it."

"Thanks—now, what did you two do- that caused Sher to get a raspy voice?" Anna asked, feeling her protective mother-bear mode sneaking up.

"No clue. He was fine before he went in the flat—then he came out minutes later wheezing."

"What flat?"

"Soo Lin Yao's. She's a connection we have on the Van Coon and Lukis case."

"Gotcha."

"We actually found out what the odd symbols being spray painted everywhere are—cipher, numbers."

"How'd you find that out?" Anna questioned as she put the samples in the Mass-Spec.

"Sherlock and I followed Van Coon and Lukis' steps to a Chinese store they both visited—on the bottoms of everything were the same sort of symbols."

"Ah, the Chinese Hanzi—interesting."

"The Chinese shop lady, she kept trying to sell us one of her knacks. A Lucky Cat," John laughed, causing Anna to laugh in return.

"What- and you didn't pick one up for me? I'm hurt, John," Anna teased, causing John to chuckle a little more. The Mass-Spec beeps as it prints out the results of a rather quick test, and after scanning the page, Anna shakes her head.

"Sorry—only epithelials on the scarf belong to Sherlock."

"That's fine. Thanks for checking anyway," John nods.

"Not a problem. Take care—and look after my brother, yeah?"

"Of course."

0o0o

Anna and D.I Dimmock arrived at 221 Baker street and after being let in by Mrs. Hudson they hurried up the steps.

"We found these, at the museum," Dimmock said, holding an evidence bag towards John," Is this your writing?"

"Uh, we hoped Soo Lin could decipher it for us," John grimaced, accepting the bag from Dimmock, who nodded and turned his attention to Sherlock. Anna had taken one look around and instantly started nosing around in a crate full of books.

"Anything else I can do? To assist you, I mean?" Dimmock asked, a bit hopeful.

"Some silence right now would be marvellous," Sherlock muttered, without even looking up at the younger man. Dimmock looked over to John, who shook his head apologetically- then over to Anna who gave him an apologetic look of her own.

"Thank you, Dimmock—but I think we've got it from here," Anna told him," We'll let you know if anything more comes up."

With a nod, Dimmock left the room and disappeared down the steps.

"What'd I say about playing nice, Sherlock?" Anna questioned him.

"Was playing nice," Sherlock muttered, keeping his attention on the books.

"Sure you were," Anna playfully shot back," So- what are we doing? I'll help."

"The cipher has to be a book that everyone owns-" John explained, as Sherlock kept racking through books in silence.

"So find a book both Lukis and Van Coon had, and hope it's the right one?"

"We're going through and looking for certain words, that line with the cipher- hoping they'll make sense."

"Gotcha. I'll just start over here then," Anna nodded. Minutes ticked by- and soon enough, an hour had passed. Then two. A soft beep interrupted the flipping of pages, causing Anna to reach down to her phone and glance at the screen.

"Lovely," she frowned," Looks like our newest forensics didn't show up to their scene—I need to fill in for them. Sorry, I've gotta go."

"T's fine," John told her, watching as she rubbed her hands over her face, seemingly massaging her eyes. "Are you—okay, I mean? You look more tired than I feel."

"Hmm? Oh- no, I'm fine," Anna shrugged," Just long days, ya know? Anyways, I'll be off. Good luck you two."

"Yeah," John nodded, waving a quick goodbye before going back to his book pile. Anna felt her brother's eyes on her, but said nothing.

"Maybe he'll just… let it be," Anna hoped, not really wanting to talk about what was on her mind. As Sherlock went back and forth between the books- he had to keep pushing aside the concern that kept rising up. He wasn't stupid- he knew something was bothering Anna.

"Later," he told himself, picking up yet another book.

Kinda an odd spot to stop, but it's about to hit the 'climax' of the chapter, so to speak, so- gotta stop it there before it ends up a SUPER long chapter.

Anyone want to hazard a guess about Anna? What do you think is "wrong with her" as she puts it?