Lazarus Syndrome

Lazarus Syndrome: the spontaneous return of circulation after failed attempts of resuscitation.

Sherlock Holmes and his friend and accomplice, John Watson walked into the office of Greg Lestrade after getting a call. Apparently, someone had dropped dead in London. There was no explanation, no blood, no boomerang, and no visible injury. They had just gotten the body and the police could not see anything at the scene. They supposed they would have to wait for the autopsy. There was no sign of poisoning either. Most poisons cause visible external signs. Sherlock believed it would be a simple case. The only reason he had actually agreed was because John had bribed him with half a cigarette. The only reason John forced him to go was because Sherlock had been without a case for such a long time, he was worse than before.

"Alright, what do you have? Any useless notes, unhelpful pictures, anything?" Sherlock asked board. Lestrade rolled his eyes and John sighed. "Her name is Lacey Trundle. Age 24. Born in Whitechapel, no known family. WE are still looking into that. Died today at 3:17 pm. Reports say she was walking on a street in London and dropped dead. No gunshot was heard, there are no visible wounds. She is down in the morgue. Molly is waiting for the two of you before she begins the autopsy." Lestrade filled them in. Sherlock barely paid attention.

"And I doubt you have yet to see if she has had a medical history of heart or circulatory issues." Sherlock stated condescendingly.

"Actually, we have already gotten in touch with her physician. No history." Greg said proudly as he was able to outthink Sherlock. Sherlock stared at him with a blank look.

"Well, it is about time someone did something useful around here. I was beginning to think no one thought for themselves or ahead. Come, John, let us have a look at this body." He said as he turned and headed to the elevator.

"Sir, if you were able to find her physician, how is it no one has found her family? Surely they would be the easiest." John inquired.

"We went through her phone. The last person she contacted was her doctor. We checked most of the numbers already but none have and family ties to her. Most are in a different continent." Lestrade said with a sigh. John nodded, eyes furrowed and left to follow Sherlock.

"Hello, you two. Here for the girl?" Molly asked as John and Sherlock walked in. Sherlock tossed his coat on a chair and walked over to a body bag that was left unzipped. It was Lacey Trundle. It was obvious she had not been dead long. She was hardly pale.

"Hello, Molly. How are you?" John asked as Molly prepared her equipment.

"Oh same as always. And yourself, John?" She asked.

Sherlock didn't hear the conversation; he was unzipping the bag and removing it, deducing everything he could about the woman before she died. She had coffee that morning and had gotten a stain on her white shirt. It was an expensive button up shirt that she paired with relaxed straight leg jeans and black shoes. She had a blazer on. It was obvious the shirt had been worn the previous day as well. Perhaps she had slept in it. The bags that were under her eyes showed that she had not gotten a decent amount of sleep the night before. They were too dark to be caused by death. Sherlock put on gloves as Molly wheeled her work tray full of instruments to the table. Perhaps the woman would have been hung over. Her nails were short but not too short. Ms. Trundle most likely held a job that required who to use her hands more than writing and typing. She wore no makeup. Where ever she was going did not require her to look formal. Sherlock noticed dried blood under her fingernails. He furrowed his eyebrows and took out his magnifying glass to get a better look. It was blood.

"She probably struggled with someone earlier today, before she died. Blood under a fingernail." Sherlock said out loud. Molly saw and took a sample, filling out the paperwork and documenting everything. John began to look at the body as well. He figured he would do something useful.

HE was opposite Sherlock and was able to see something that supported Sherlock's claim.

"Sherlock, she has bruising on her collar bone, it looks like it goes to her shoulder too." HE said as he gently moved the shirt out of the way. Sherlock looked and began to study the bruising. It was purple and yellow and looked to be just an hour or two older than when she died. John turned to go grab some gloves and molly was grabbing the scissors to cut away the clothing.

"Interesting." Sherlock mumbled as he lifted a finger and prodded the bruise. He stood up quickly, slightly started by the twitch from the shoulder. He was not expecting the response. Molly was startled by Sherlock and let out a gasp and dropped her scissors. John wheeled around.

"What happened?" He asked. "The body responded to stimuli. I prodded the bruise on her clavicle and the shoulder twitched in response." Sherlock leaned back down and prodded it. No response.

"It was probably just a Lazarus sign. It's not uncommon." John stated. HE noticed a finger twitch. "See, just it. Her finger twitched." Molly furrowed her eyebrows. She only heard of one motion. Usually, the arm lifted up and draped over the body, or part of the body jolted. She never had a body that had two Lazarus signs.

"John, I don't think you are right." Molly mumbled. The three sat and watched, waiting for the body to do something. Nothing happened for a while. The three decide to continue working. Molly drew a sample of blood to see what was in her. She had to do this so she could drain the rest of the blood. He waited for Molly to start removing the clothes and stepped away from the body. His phone alerted him to a text. John looked over, silently asking who it was. Sherlock frowned.

"Mycroft. What on earth could he want?" He mumbled before placing it back in his pocket. Molly walked over to the body on the table and began unbuttoning the shirt. Sherlock leaned over and watched. About three buttons down, Molly froze. Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows at her. Molly was frozen with a confused look on her face. She had felt skin lightly graze her hand, but Sherlock's hands were behind his back. While she was thinking about it, another light touch grazed her hands. Molly looked down to see the chest of the body lowering. Confused, she learned in closer to see if she could hear or feel a breath. Sherlock watched curious.

Molly was ten inches from the woman's face when the body's eyes snapped open. Molly jumped back and Sherlock straightened up just a few inches and John ran forward. At the same time the body grabbed a sharp tool and stabbed at Sherlock. She got him in the shoulder and he yelled out as she rolled off the table, half crawling half scrambling away until she was able to stand. She held the tool she used to stab Sherlock in her hand as a threat to stay away. She was breathing hard and stumbling back. Some of her hair had fallen in her face and she was panting. Molly stared in shock, John in concern and confusion, Sherlock in pain and interest. It's not everyday someone comes back from the dead.

With a rush of exhaled breath the fell backwards into a sitting position. She was hyperventilating. John cautiously approached and knelt down next to her. She flinched as his hands took her pulse on her neck. John's eyes widened, her pulse was way too fast.

"Molly, get Lestrade, call an ambulance. Hurry."

"Right."

"Sherlock, you ok?" John asked. Sherlock had a hand over his shoulder. IT was a shallow cut but still hurt a bit. "Fine. Her pulse is fast, correct? Almost too fast?" He inquired nearing. He knelt in front of her and looked at her eyes. They were closed and her head was tilted down. He tried to lift her face up but the moment he touched her chin she bit him.

"Damn!" he yelled and stood up and back. John grabbed her shoulders to restrain her in case she tried to move.

"If…if you. …put your hand...in front … of me…i. will. …bite it." She said through labored breathes.

"Stay still, an ambulance will be here soon." John ordered. She shook her head but it made her dizzy.

"No. Fine. 'm Ok." She panted. John furrowed his eyebrows.

"You just came back from the dead, you are not ok."

"She is either hiding something or has a fear of medical personnel. "Sherlock said with an arrogant tone, he was not fond of her. She lifted her head up and spit at him. She sighed and started to lean forward. "Whoa, hold on Ms. Trundle. You'll be ok." John assured her and kept her upright. Sherlock noticed she still hadn't released to medical tool.

fear.


Lacey TRundle sat across the desk from Officer Lestrade as he stared at her in shock. Only a few hours ago, he had seen this girl dead. Now she was sitting across from him, staring with her dark brown eyes. They were a bit unnerving.

He had questions but did not know where to start.

"Are you finished staring? I believe you have questions." SHe said coldly. Lestrade let his mouth fall open. Sherlock and John stood near the door, both interested to her about her.

"Yea. I would like an explanation. No longer than half an hour ago, you were lying on an autopsy bed, no pulse, no breath. You were dead but now you are sitting here in front of me like that never even happened. What is going on?" Lacey's mouth twitched in a slight smirk quickly before returning to her neutral look.

"It would seem i died a few hours ago and am now alive and well. If that is the only question, may I leave? she asked.

"Don't get smart with me, young lady!"

"Yes, mum." She said without thinking. whoops.

"Hey, no sass. How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Oh, my god." John muttered. "Greg, you won't get anything from her right now. perhaps ask her later?" John offered.

"Yea i would but what do I do with her 'till then?" He said waving a hand at her.

"Let me go." She suggested. Lestrade just looked at her. Her face was blank but her tone had been a bit playfull and teasing.

"She used pure adrenaline to restart her heart." Sherlock stated. Lacey spun in her seat and stared at Sherlock. He smirked back at her.

"How?"

"I have experimented with adrenaline. I know the effects." Sherlock explained briefly. She looked him up and down before turning back to Lestrade.

"I swallowed a pill that takes about a half hour to dissolve. I took it a few minutes after someone had drugged me. I was attacked and almost escaped unscathed. he got the drug in me. It was slowing my heart. I assumed it was meant to stop it so i took a pill to combat it. Looks like it worked." She finished stretching out a hand and flexing it.

"Lestrade, we will take her with us, keep her safe, unit you need her again." Sherlock said abrubtly. Lacey stood and grabbed her coat that had been returned to her. "That will not be necessary i can take care of myself. You can fins the attacker on video from security cameras on the street. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get home." SHe pushed past the two men. John wanted to ask SHerlock why he had pfferd to take her but he was silenced by a wave of SHerlock's hand. THey watched as Lacey boarded the elevator.

"Sherlock, what was all that about?"

"Her mind. SHe notices things and plays off them. SHe noticed Lestrade increasingly gettign frustrated and played off it to avoid being questioned. Interesting. She knows the affect of [ure adrenaline. Had it been someone unfamiliar, they would have had a panic or anxiety attack in the mourge. SHe knows what she is doing."

"Sherlock, you sound like you are interested in her, not moments ago she stabbed and bit you." John stated. "You just want to test her, don't you." John figured out. SHerlock didn't answer and walked out, intending to follow Mr. Trundle


Lacey took a cab to her small apartment. She opened the door slowly. Once inside, and after checking the place was empty, she allowed herself to relax. SHe locked the doors and the windows and sat on her small couch.

THis was when she let her emotions take over. She tucked herself into a ball and fought the tears. She had been on high alert for the past week and was not able to process the fact that she no longer had a friend in the apartment with her, and she never would. SHe hadn't had the opportunity to mourn the death of her closest friend. She had not been able to address teh guilt she felt for causing her frined's death.

But now, in the silence, everything hit her.

And the sobs shook her body. SHe sat there for a while, trying to collect herself. Her head snapped up at teh sound of knockign at her door. She sat there and listened. Perhaps if I sit here, they will leave.

THe knocking continued and soon a voice spoke up. "Ms. Trundle, we know you are home. Could you open up please?" THe kind voice of John Watson reached her ears. Wiping at her face furiously, she walked to the door and held it open a tiny crack.

"WHat do you want." She said quietly. She coudl see Sherlock standing behind John, looking past her and into her apartment. "Hey!" SHe snapped at him. His gaze went to her and began looking her up and down. "Knock it off, what do you want?" SHe snapped.

"Uh.. we just had a few questions. Can we come in?" Lacey stepped back and thought about it. it would be polite, after all she did come back to life right infront of them. SHe sighed and opened the door. "FIne." as she was walking back to the sitting room, she motioned to the couch. "Have a seat. Tea?"

"No thank you." John said and sat on the couch. SHerlock was walking around. HE stopped adn looked at her book came back with a mug of cofee few minutes later and sat on a love seat that was shoved against the wall.

"WHat are your questions?"

"Who attacked you? And do you know why?" John asked.

"Yeah." Lacey replied. John looked at her, waiting for more but Lacey just stared at him. Those darks eyes challenging him. Sherlock turned to watch, eyebrow raised at her stubbornness.

"Oh..k. Um, if he's still out there, why don't you have the police protect you? Or go visit family?"

"HOw do you know i wasn't packing?" SHe challeneged.

"You don't have a suitcase out." Sherlock said. "Dull." Lacey turned to see her bedroom door was open and cursed hersefl for leaving it open.

"Where is your family? Are any coming? Surely you don't want to be alone!"

"THey are dead, Dr. Watson." She said coldly. "No one is coming, and I am going no where. I do not need neither Scotland Yard nor you two. Besides, Scotland Yard is bound by law and protocol. They cannot help." She sipped her coffee.

"THe man who attacked you must have some form of immunity then?"

"Not exactly. HE is a minor mob boss but has major connections."

"What did you do to get involved with them?!" John asked. How could this woman possibly piss them off! Lacey didn't answer but just smiled and took a sip of her coffee.

Sherlock returned to looking around the apartment. There were signs of two people living there. Female. Ms. trundle was either a lesbian or had a friend living with her. HE looked into her bedroom quickly.

two small beds mean friends. Clear separation of personal belongings. THere were pictures taken and placed on a wall, there were corresponding notes and artices next to them. He neared the photos and studied the center was a man in a suit walking out of a building. several articles were linked to him by a read thread. a newer one that had not been able to gather the small layer of dust caught SHerlock's attention. THere was a picture of a woman on the autopsy table, her face bruiesed and bloody. Sherlock turned to a picture on the mantle that was next to the diagram. In the photo was LAcey and the girl on the autopsy table. HE made the connection.

"Her name was Artemis." Lacey said quietly from SHerlock's side. EH started and turned to her. HE had not heard her moving. John stood behind her and was looking for the picutre they were staring at. He saw it and asked "Was she your room mate?" LAcey nodded.

"She was to me what you are to SHerlock, although we weren't dating." SHe said and walked away.

"WE aren't a couple. I'm not gay!" John said exasperated.

"Of course you are." LAcey said with a shrug of hr shoulders. John was about to retort when Sherlock cut him off. "Don't waiste your time John, she is trying to get a reaction from you." HE was studying the picture. "SHe died from blunt force trauma Beaten to death, there were at least two men. One was left handed. Explaining the bruises on both side of her face." He said. Lacey nodded in confirmation.

"So how do you know who we are so well?" John asked. Not many people knew how close the two were. "I read your blog, I can pick up hints of emotional attachment. ANd with as much shit as you two go through, there is bound ot be attatchment." Lacey sat down and sipped her coffee.

THey sat for a while. John;s doctor side was urging him to make sure she had someone. She had jsut lost someone close and had died that day!not even Sherlock would be able to handle that well. "John, let's go." Sherlock urged. "We have all we need!" He said and walked to the door. He held it open. John turned to LAcey.

"Are you sure you will be alright?" Lacey smiled falsely. Our numbers are on the blog. You need help, let us know. We're good at what we do."

"I know." John sighed. HE looked at her and made his way to the door. LAcey sat staring at her friend's picture. SHe missed Artemis but didn't have time to sit back and feel sorry for herself. She had things to do. Getting off the couch she threw the mug in the sink and went to take a shower. SHe stripped off her clothes and let the water run, waiting for the water to warm up. HSe pulled back the curtain adn stepped into the old tub. THe water was scodling but she let it wash the grime off her.


Sherlock and John were walking out of the apartment complex and Sherlock tried to hail a cab. They were all filled and there were only a few. THey woudl have to wait.

"SHerlock what did you get from her bookshelf?" John asked. HE had seen Sherlock swipe something right before they left.

"Photo Album. It will give us insight on who she is, if we are lucky." TH two men stood outside the apartment, waiting for a taxi. THere was a silence between the two companions. John broke it first.

"Someone thought we were a couple again." John muttered shaking his head.

"Yes."

"Why? And why don't you say anything?" John asked.

"I don't see how it matters one way or another who they think I am in a relationship with. I am unattached as you put." Sherlock kept his eyes on the road. Where the hell were the taxi's. John saw the logic behind Sherlock's statement and shrugged. He too, began to look for a taxi.

"Where the hell are all the-"

BOOOM!

John was cut off and the two men were knocked over by the force of a blast. It came from the apartment building behind them. The two men were caught off guard and struggled to their feet. They were out of breath.

"What the hell? Was that-"

"Yes. John. It came from her place. Quickly!" He said and dragged john into the now slightly burning building. They two struggled up the stairs past rushing people. When they reached Lacey's apartment, the door was barely held up on it's hinges and the direction told them the blast had come from inside. THy stood in her burning living room, looking around for signs of the woman. Their heads snapped to the back of the apartment when coughing echoed through faintly. Th two rushed to a door that had been blown in. It was her bathroom. Hey was ruble on top of an old fashioned tub moving and saw as a hand pushed it off. More coughing. Sherlock and John approached but Lacey's outburst caused them to stop.

"WHat are you doing?! Turn round!" she yelled, ducking in the tub, trying to cover herself. Sherlock rolled his eyes but John turned around for a moment. "Oh, my god, terribly sorry!" Sherlock moved forward to remove the rest of the rubble. He pulled off his coat and threw it over her shoulders. He turned and allowed her to fasten the buttons and conserve her now shredded dignity. She was extremely embarrassed. John turned and approached her a bit slower. "Are you ok? Can you walk?" He asked switching to doctor mode. She nodded and tried to exit the tub. She faltered and almost fell. John and Sherlock helped her out and escorted her out of the building. She coughed a few times and reveled in the fresh air. THey let her sit on the steps adn John began checking her over. He suspected a concussion, broken rib, bruising. How she was still alive he did not know.

Lacey could see the question practically burning in him.

"THe tub. I jumped down in the tub when the blast went off." There was a cut on her head and she wiped off the blood as it got close to her fore arm was burnt but that would have to wait. she also had a burn across her shoulders and the coat hurt it like hell.

Minutes later, the trio could see Lestrade jump out of his car and an ambulance arrived along with fire trucks.

someone had been kind enough to fins some clothes that were salvageable and she changed in the ambulance. She sat wand allowed the emts to bandage her arms and treat her shoulders and head. She sat as the EMT bandaged her arm and John approached her. She turned to him and John handed Lacey her phone. It had miraculously survived the blast.

"Glad to see you are ok, Ms. Trundle." John commented.

"Lacey." She corrected. "Just call me Lacey." sHe flicked through her phone. John smiled a bit.

"Well, what are you planning to do know?" John asked and Sherlock soon joined the two. THE EMT finished and left her with the two men.

"Find the bastard and take him out." She said as if it was nothing.

"Please. I doubt you have the ability to deduce, track and find such a person. Much less deal with them." SHerlock scoffed.

"DO not underestimate me Sherlock. You don't have a clue what i can do." She said as she hopped out of the ambulance and began walking. SHe had no shoes but kept walking anyway. John and Sherlock followed her. "Where are you going?" John asked.

"St. Bart's. I still have the drug in my system. I need to get there quickly so I can analyze the blood. By finding out what he gave me, I can track down the manufacturer, by determining an estimated guess of time, i should get a name." She said as she kept walking and fiddling with her phone.

"What are you doing?" John asked, looking over her shoulder. She pocketed it and hailed a cab. "None of your business." A cab pulled over and she opened the door. SHerlock stopped her and grabbed her upper arm. SHe could feel two of his fingers digging on her pressure point in her arm, taking a pulse.

"Let us come with you. Jon is an exceptional military doctor and you will require his assistance with drawing blood. As a consulting detective, I have a duty to solve cases and I have decided to take this case."

"THank you for the offer, and for not taking the pulse from my wrist. But no. I don't need your help, nor do i want it." SHe ripped her arm from his grasp and climbed in. SHerlock slid in after her and so did John.

"Excuse me-"

"I have already decide we are going to solve this case as well." Sherlock explained. "You might as well accept it." Lacey sighed. SHe rally did need John's help with drawing blood and someone not emotionally connect to the issue would be best. Begrudgingly she nodded and allowed them to help.

"But you are covering the expenses."


Hello and thank you for reading. THis chapter is shorter than the rest will be. Please reveiw, I love suggestions.

ANd what kind of romance to you want to see? Johnlock or SHerlockxOC or somethign else.

Also, how do you guys think so far?

I love hearing for you guys! chapter 2 coming soon.