Greg Lestrade was a busy man. Especially without Sherlock Holmes there helping to solve his tougher cases. This was only made worse when his phone rang.

"Hello?" Greg said brining the phone to his ear.

"Greg?" Came the groggy reply from what sounded like the missing forensics man.

"Anderson?! Where are you and what's your excuse?" Greg said immediately angered by the person on the other end of the line.

"I'm sorry, I just got up and I think I have a throat infection. *cough* I'm really sorry Greg. *cough*" Anderson said trying to apologise.

"All right. You don't have to come in today, but I'm expecting you here tomorrow! You got that?" Greg demanded.

"Yes sir." With that he hung up and pinched the bridge of his nose. Counting to ten he again looked at his phone and pulled out a contact.

"John? Are you doing anything?"

"No, but I can't find Molly. Something's wrong. What time is it anyway?" John asked sleepily.

"Oh, umm... 4:15 in the morning. Sorry about that by the way, but can you get to this crime scene? Anderson's off sick."

"Oh sure! I'll be right over. Maybe Molly is already at the hospital..." He trailed off but Greg just breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks John. I'll text you the address." He said before hanging up.

Five minutes later and John's cab pulled up by the curb. John climbed out and paid the driver before walking towards the DI.

"So, what's going on?" John said as he stopped beside Lestrade.

"We think it's a suicide, but can't be certain. Sherlock would immediately point out that it's probably a murder, so that's why we have you. You don't mind checking out the body, do you?" Lestrade said turning to face John.

"No, I don't mind." He said before grabbing a spare forensics suit and wandering over to the main crime scene.

He looked at the blood splatters on the floor on the left side of the body, presumably where the bullet went through the brain of the girl lying on the floor. But John looked closer and could see that the blood was to close to the body for the girl to have been standing up when she was shot.

Moving around he examined the entry wound and saw that it might not have been caused by a bullet. It looked more like a knife wound. Frowning John moved to the exit wound which was the same.

The girl was on her side in the blood, her left side to be exact. "Do you have the bullet?" John asked the nearest forensic.

"Sorry, who are you?" Came the reply.

"Doctor John Watson. I'm here filling in for Anderson." There was a small smile before the man answered.

"I'm afraid we don't. Must have landed somewhere near here though." He said before walking off.

Leaning back down, John carefully rolled the body onto its back where he had a clear view of the left had side. The skin was ripped open under the arm pit and right down to half way down the girl's chest. The ribs had been broken and the lung punctured.

Grimacing John rolled the girl back to her original position. "Murder." John stated as he removed his suit. Lestrade came over and helped him out.

"How do you know?" He asked as they handed over the suit.

"Her left side has been cut open, and then the lung has been punctured. She is right handed so it would be difficult to do this." John mimicked trying to cut open his left side with his right hand.

"Okay, I'll get my team on it. Thanks John." Lestrade said nodding his way before going back over to his team.

John went back to the street and hailed a cab. Time to find Molly.


A/N: This chapter is running along side Behind The Dream, but from John and Greg's (of this world) POV. I suggest reading that as well if you wish to understand it. :3

Today is a Christmas special, so enjoy it. :3