Hello, faithful readers! I have had this chapter typed up for a while now but I wasn't sure if I liked how it ended so I changed it a bit and then just decided to post it.

My sister, ThePro-LifeCatholic, typed up the last paragraph for me so if you guys read and/or review/message her don't forget to tell her how awesome the ending paragraph is!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Doctor Who, Sherlock, and all the characters belong to the BBC...which isn't me by the by.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Molly stiffened even more as Jack stepped closer,

"Doctor? What are you going on about?" The Time Lord whipped out his sonic and pointed it at the girl. Donna wasn't exactly certain what happened next but whatever it was ended in the Doctor face down on the floor, Jack's head on the counter and her being roughly shoved backwards. The swinging of the door quickly told the trio which way their suspect had gone. They hurried out and crashed head-long into a middle aged male janitor.

"Did you see a girl run through here?!" Donna demanded. The bewildered man pointed towards a door a little ways down and the three adventurers dashed off without so much as a thank you. If the Doctor had stayed just long enough to hear a sound similar to the noise of rustling leaves he would've realized his mistake. The janitor took back her original appearance and slipped out of the building towards 221B Baker St. So much for taking on an early shift.

Meanwhile…

Mary stared at the apple in her hand before dropping it like she had been bitten. With shaking fingers she dialed Sherlock's number and waited. Sherlock picked his head off of the pillows and pried his eyes open. His head was still pounding but he did feel significantly better than yesterday. His pale fingers snaked around the phone and he put it up to his ear,

"Sherlock Holmes," He murmured, the sound of recent sleeping present in his voice.

"Sherlock, it's Mary," Came the quite voice, "I think someone's threatening John…or me…or both. Just, can you get down here and check it out?" Sherlock shoved back the blankets,

"I'm on my way, don't touch anything."

"Bit late, I'm afraid," Mary said with regret,

"Then don't touch anything else." With that Sherlock hung up the phone and fell off the bed, "Ouch." He muttered as he untangled his feet from the bed sheets. He quickly got changed and presentable for the Watsons. Ten minutes later he was walking up to their front door. Mary answered his knock and ushered him inside.

"John's still asleep, the apples are in here,"

"Apples?" Sherlock asked, obviously confused before he looked around the family room, "Oh, apples." He bent down and froze, "Gallifreyan" The word was barely audible and was spoken with disbelief.

"What?" Mary asked, worry now evident in her voice. Sherlock straightened and picked up the apple with his gloved hand,

"Hm? Oh, nothing," He waved the question away, forcing himself to sound casual, "It's…Uhhh, an ancient language. It originated iiiiiiiiinnnnnnnn," He dragged out the 'in' as he dug through his brain to think of a convincing lie, "Scotland, I think." He looked the apples over carefully, "Here, where the juice dripped down, the burglar left a finger print. This is almost too easy, it worries me." The last sentence was whispered under the Detective's breath so Mary didn't hear. The two of them turned as John entered the room,

"Ummm, morning?" He asked as he looked between the two: Mary still in her dressing gown and Sherlock in full detective get up minus his shoes which Mary had insisted he take off in the hallway.

"Good morning." Sherlock replied as he returned to investigating. Mary smiled and crossed the room,

"Tea?" She asked and John nodded, "Sherlock, do you want tea?"

"No," Sherlock answered distractedly, "Thank you." John shook his head,

"Sherlock, you're dehydrated and you've recently been neglecting your health. You got out of bed early this morning, barely gave yourself time to change and practically ran all the way here. Seeing the mud marks on your trousers indicates that you didn't stick to the sidewalk the entire way either, you'll have tea." Sherlock raised his eyes and locked them on John's firm expression.

"Tea would be lovely, Mary, thank you." His eyes didn't leave the army doctor's face as he said this but then his head dropped back down to his work,

"What's going on?" John asked as he crouched down next to the Detective, "Where did all the apples come from?"

"From your fruit basket of course," the Detective answered, "but now they reside all over the front room."

"Why?"

"Because the person who carved them seemed to like them in the front room."

"Okay, when do we catch this carver?"

"When I find him." After that, Sherlock ignored John. He had trouble enough finding the answer without John's constant questions getting fired at him. However, as John turned away and strode into the kitchen the Detective allowed his eyes to lock back on him. John was doing remarkably well for someone who just came out of a coma. He was alert and energetic, ate well, and was already prepared to take back up work. It just was wrong.

He turned his attention back to the apples. He could read them all quite easily. He organized them and read each over carefully,

I can think

I can see

I have lived

I have died

I know

I am falling

I am Alive

I am growing

We are separate

We are not the same

The final apple was mangled so much that Sherlock couldn't make out what was written on it. He picked it up and slid the knife out carefully and looked at the writing closely.

"Whoever put the knife into the apple had to try several times before they got it straight through, like they had trouble handling the knife." Mind-Molly said as the image of the apple appeared in the mind palace,

"However," Anderson broke in, "We know that whoever stabbed this apple also carved the designs in all the other ones, so why would he or she suddenly be rendered skill-less?"

"We also know that this was the last apple to be carved, of course." Mycroft said with a smug look. The Detective looked towards him,

"We do?" He asked with a look of slight confusion.

"Of course, we do. The oxidation process is quite an interesting thing. It's easy to see that this apple has been out for at least an hour while some of the others appear to have been out for as long as four hours."

"There were no figure prints on the door, so whoever it was must of washed his or her hands." Molly added,

"Or it." Anderson commented.

"Sorry?" Sherlock asked,

"What we're dealing with knows Gallifreyan." Anderson pointed out, "Probability says that it's not human."

"A threat?" Lestrade asked

"Not sure," Molly shook her head, "these aren't exactly 'threatening' messages but whoever did it must've broken in to do it. It doesn't make sense."

"When are we gonna decipher the message?" Anderson asked impatiently.

"Right now, apparently." Mycroft said as he swung his umbrella around a couple times. "Well, Sherlock, let's begin by mentally removing the gash in the middle made by the knife."

"I see an 'H'!" Anderson shouted as he waved his arm in the air. Redbeard whimpered as he paced around the Detective's legs.

"Hush, boy." The pale man muttered distractedly,

"He's right, you know." Donavan spoke up as she waltzed into the room, "You're missing something really obvious."

"Shhh," Irene whispered, "he's thinking, don't bother him." Mycroft waved his hand and suddenly he and Sherlock were the only people in the room.

"Focus, Brother dear," he instructed, "There's two words. One consists of four letters, the other of six. Figure out the shorter one first. The first letter is visible; it's a 'J', the next letter is to mangled to figure out efficiently but-"

"We can decipher what it is based on the rest of the visible letters." Sherlock broke in.

"Precisely," Mycroft nodded. Sherlock focused on the apple more closely,

"So we have 'J' and 'H'. The next letter is either an 'K' or an 'N'."

"Well, I, for one, am unaware of any word that has a 'H' followed by a 'K'."

"But what about 'H' followed by 'N'? Isn't that also rather irrational?" Mycroft simply looked at him,

"You know exactly what word has a 'H' followed by 'N', you just don't want it to be that word so you're avoiding it. It's obviously 'John' and the second word that begins 'W' 'A' 'T' is easily assumed to be 'Watson'."

So that was it, the final apple said John Watson. Sherlock rose and noticed a cup of tea on the coffee table next to him. He didn't have time for tea, he had to analyze these finger prints and figure out who was responsible for all of this. He swung around without a word, still holding the apple that held his friend's name, and swept out of the house; stopping only to put back on his shoes.

He didn't turn around to see John watching him leave, and he failed to notice the army doctor's reflection in the mirror. If he had, then he might've witnessed a rather troubling sight: the reflection showed the back of a black, well-tailored suit; pale white fingers reached up and adjusted an unseen tie. Then a hand was passed over the head, ruffling short black hair before pausing, lightly fingering a large gash, still fresh and with a bullet hole lodged in the center of a hollow perforation.

Have you ever wondered if, while no one's looking, the reflection of your back isn't the reflection of your back?

~SimmonsButterflys