"Greg, what's wrong, and why do I need to bring Sherlock? Where are you?"

"I'm at a crime scene, the killer attacked again, there's two bodies this time."

"What?"

"Yeah, I know, they're getting bold. But that's not the troubling issue. I wouldn't have called you for something like this."

John looked over at Sherlock who found his violin and started inspecting it, he was plucking at the strings and then grabbed the bow and tried to play it. He was awful. John frowned because he looked like he was struggling and that was the one thing Sherlock never had any trouble with. He loved the violin and played it beautifully.

"What is it?"

"The killer scribbled something on the wall...it's very...troubling."

John didn't like the sound of that. He checked Sherlock one more time to see him still fiddling with the instrument. It would only be a matter of time before he would get frustrated or bored and start looking for something else to keep him busy. John really didn't want to bring Sherlock anywhere with a serial killer on the loose, especially when it's late outside and Greg's shaken about this whole thing. But if he was telling John to see what he found at the scene, then he would have no choice but to, and he has to bring Sherlock. He's not going to leave him alone.

"Alright, I understand that this is serious, just give me an address and I'll be there."

"Thank you, John..."

John waved his hand to catch Sherlock's attention.

"Yes, John?"

John pulled the phone away from his ear and covered the mouth piece so he wouldn't confuse Lestrade.

"Sherlock get dressed."

"But it's late outside, where are we going?"

"To see Lestrade."

Sherlock looked like he had something else to say, but kept it to himself and then rose from the couch and walked to his room to get dressed. They were getting ready for bed, as it was almost eleven thirty and from the whole situation earlier that day, they were pretty tired. But one of the perks of helping your detective friend is that you never have to worry about getting your full eight hours of sleep because chances are, you'll never have them! He felt bad for making Sherlock get dressed because he was visibly tired, but if this was going to interfere with their lives in a negative way, then they would have to deal with the matter immediately. Sleep can wait. He pressed the phone back to his ear.

"Sorry, what was it again?"

~~~~~~~~
About ten minutes later they showed up, it wasn't that far from Baker Street, actually, but they took a cab because neither of them had it in them to walk that distance. As soon as they show up, they were ambushed by Sally and Anderson. John pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose to repress all of his rage that was coming to him.

"Look, it's the freak! Do you believe me now?"

Anderson froze in his spot.

"Well I'll be damned, freak! You're back from the dead!"

Sherlock didn't respond to either of them. He shuffled closer to John.

"I don't know who any of you are, so can you let me pass?"

They gave each other smug glances.

"Oh so what, you come back from the dead and then act like you don't no anybody? Jesus, Sherlock, I didn't think death would change you this much!"

Sally snickered.

"Yeah, usually most people decay and rot when they die, but not you it seems. Psychopaths don't die like normal people."

John really wasn't in the mood for this today. He immediately grabbed Sherlock's arm and told him to walk around them and meet Lestrade. When he was out of earshot, John leaned in close and talked to Sally and Anderson in a hushed yell because he was tired and the last thing he needed to do was shout to the top of his lungs in a relatively quiet place because of two people who pick the wrong times to irritate him.

"Listen up you two, I'm going to need you to cut back on the insults."

Sally's stance got defensive.

"Why should I?"

"Because...because when he says that he doesn't remember you, he means it. He has amnesia, so to him, you're all new faces."

That got their attention.

"Are you serious? Him out of all people?"

John nodded.

"I'm just as surprised as you are, believe me."

Anderson shrugged.

"You're bringing him to a crime scene at almost midnight when there's a serial killer on the loose to help him..."

"Remember. And it wasn't my idea, Greg called me and told me that he found something and that I needed to bring him. So please, do me a favor and keep your snide remarks to yourself. It seems like kind of a low blow for you to be harassing somebody that is telling you to leave them alone."

They both gave resigned huffs and moved out of his way to let him pass. He saw both Sherlock and Greg staring at the wall with wide eyes. It made John nervous so he quickened his pace to meet up with the two. What he found had him in shock too.

"Welcome back, Mr. Holmes! We'll be seeing each other very soon."

John reverted back to his army days and walked right up to Lestrade and demanded answers.

"What is this?" He wasn't asking out of curiosity, but because he was angry and there was going to be hell to pay in a moment. Lestrade couldn't take his eyes off of the wall, the message was that nerving.

"I-I, it had to be the killer...It's the same writing that's on the bodies."

"How does he know?"

Greg turned to make eye contact.

"He must have...seen the news earlier today, it was all over the telly."

Sherlock cut in.

"Do I know him?"

John's face softened. He knew that Sherlock understood that he was being threatened by a deranged killer, but what hurt him is that, he didn't ask if he was going to die, or if he was going to get hurt, he asked if he knew that person. John wasn't sure how to react to that. No matter what, Sherlock would always protect his mind over his body, and he was more worried about remembering things than he was his well-being.

"No Sherlock, you don't."

Greg intervened.

"Look I don't know what we're facing right now, but you two should probably get back because chances are he's prowling the streets, looking for his next target and I don't want it to be neither of you."

John had a ferocity in his eyes at Greg's statement. Sherlock is not going to be his next target, nobody is. This guy has to be stopped, and Sherlock has to get his memory back.

"Yeah, yeah, alright, we'll head back now and I'll call you if anything happens. Come on Sherlock!"

"We're leaving already?"

"Yep, Greg only wanted to show this to us. We have to hurry back home now and I've no money for a taxi so we have to walk."

Sherlock tried to keep up with John's unusually quick pace, for such short legs, they move very fast when they want. Sherlock didn't argue, as he could tell John wasn't in the mood to fight with Sherlock, not when they've been targeted by what seems like a very dangerous person. He turned around and gave a quick wave to Greg before following after John who was already leaving the building.

"Hello?"

"Hello again, Mycroft."

"What do you want?"

"Have I ever told you how much I like your brother's jacket?"

"...What are you talking about?"

"I'm watching him walk down the street and I simply love how it moves with the wind."

"What are you do-"

"He seems to have a companion with him, did you know about this?"

"..."

"John...Watson...I believe he's called."

"Whatever you are planning to do-"

"I don't think I've ever met Sherlock and John in person."

"If you touch Sherlock Holmes..."

The low, rumbling chuckle was heard again.

"Oh no, no, Mycroft, you misunderstand. I'm going to do much more than touch him."

"You are aware of whom you are talking to, right?"

"Of course, I'm talking to the British government. Do you know who you are talking to?"

"Yes, I do, and it makes me sick."

"Lucky for you, this conversation won't be going on any longer. Goodbye Mycroft, and do keep a look out on the news tonight, you might like the new story."

Before Mycroft could utter a word, the call was disconnected. Mycroft rubbed his head and thought about what he was going to do next.