Full Summary
Months after the Sherrinford incident life seems as normal as it could be. Between solving mysteries and grotesque kitchen experiments, Sherlock and John are getting more and more stressed when it comes to taking care of Rosie. In fact, Sherlock is so caught up with helping that he promised John not to take cases from Scotland Yard for the moment since they are more dangerous than the usual ladies who come in and worry about their husbands cheating on them.
Lestrade is fortunate enough to meet Joanne Wright, a weird profiler with no place to stay. While occupying Lestrade's sofa, the woman helps on a twisted case with weird connections to past enemies that should be dead. At first, Sherlock has no interest in breaking his promise, that changes after realizing that even Mycroft has a suspicious interest in the cases. Sherlock might have made a grave mistake in the past: Believing Magnussen that there was no physical vault.
A/N
The whole summary was just too long so I had to put it in here. This story is a mixture of heartwarming family feelings, intriguing mysteries, and huge plot twists. There will be some Canon/OC in here, I'm gonna keep the specific ship a secret though so you can guess along the way if you like :) There's also some graphic descriptions of murders and violence in here, just a warning!
chapter 1
missed opportunity
Time had stopped while he watched the paper coffee cup tumble down his desk, directly onto the dirty, old carpet. He should have probably stopped eating and drinking in his office anyway, but all of the donut crumbles distracted from several stains—he truly was a serial coffee-spiller. Greg just sighed as the cup's lid popped off, letting the hot beverage seep through the carpet.
The detective inspector thought about it for a moment since he really didn't want to clean that mess up. Hesitantly, he grabbed a few disposable handkerchiefs, got on his knees and started rubbing over the stain. He was probably making it even worse, but he didn't really care.
"Uhm, Greg?"
Of course, Sgt. Donovan had to come into his office while he was fighting with the stupid carpet. He jolted his head up so that Sally only saw his head peeking over the desk's edge.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, I just dropped my pen," he stated confidently.
"Anyways, there has been another murder. We believe that it might be the same culprit."
"Give me a second to phone Sherlock, I'll be right there."
"Right," Sally said, squinting her eyes. Her dark brown curls bounced up and down as she marched away.
Greg groaned as he got up again, angrily crumbling up the tissues and throwing them into the trash. "Just not a good day," he mumbled to himself before taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans.
Quickly he called Sherlock's contact, grabbed his coat and made his way through the halls of Scotland Yard. For some reason, he didn't pick up. It's a serial killer, he texted irked before leaving through the front door. Sally was already waiting by the car. Nonchalantly, she was leaning against it, her arms crossed as always. She already saw it in his eyes that something was wrong.
"So the freak's not answering?"
"Not yet. Can you drive?"
"Sure. You know I don't mind if he's not coming," she spat before placing herself behind the stirring wheel.
"I figured." Usually, Sherlock answered immediately, so after about three minutes Greg called again, but he still didn't answer his phone.
"Maybe he's cooking some eyes again, who knows."
Greg sighed as he rubbed his temple. He started to rummage through his coat pockets, trying to find something. After getting out a few chewing gum wrappers, an old McDonalds receipt, and some loose change, he finally got what he was looking for: a yellow post-it note with a phone number scribbled on it. He hurried and called it.
"Hello, I'm Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade from the London Criminal Investigation Division, Steve Perry gave me your number about two weeks ago."
Sally listened curiously. Perry was a chief detective who retired a few years ago, so she wondered why Greg was still in contact with him.
"Are you, by any chance, in London right now? ... It's 17 Kean Street. Great, I'll see you then."
"Who was that?" Sally asked with a nosey grin on her face.
"Steve recommended me a profiler recently, he told me that she was looking for a job in London and that I should consider looking at her work. She's supposed to be good."
"Are you really that desperate without Sherlock?"
Greg scrunched his forehead as he turned to her. "No. No, I'm not."
The Crime Scene Investigation was already swarming around the house when Greg and Sally arrived at their destination. It was a townhouse with a red brick facade on a rather narrow street. Greg could see how an old lady on the other side of the street was looking out of her window with a worrying expression on her face. After a few minutes, a taxi stopped on the street and a blonde woman in her twenties jumped out of it.
She wore her hair in a messy updo that was fixed with a big jaw clip, a few thin strands falling around her face in slight waves. With a nervous smile, she walked towards them. "We called, right?", she asked while already reaching her hand out to Greg.
"Yes, I'm DI Lestrade and this is my partner sergeant Sally Donovan."
The woman first shook Greg's hand before turning to Sally. "My name is Joanne Wright, nice to meet you."
"Great, now let's get to work, shall we?" Sally groaned while sloppily shaking Joanne's hand. Afterwards, she immediately turned away and entered the building.
Joanne slightly bit her lip while watching Sally leave.
"No worries, she's only like that when it's about work," Greg smiled. He noticed how insecure and nervous she was and Sally being Sally didn't help.
Joanne followed Greg up the house's hallway into the flat where Sally was already talking to Anderson. The bearded man quickly greeted Greg before leading them into the bathroom.
Sally quickly wrinkled her nose after looking at the bizarre scene. A naked man was lying on the white floor tiles in a puddle of bath water, mirror shards, and blood. His eyes were completely removed from their sockets and were now floating in the bathtub.
Greg looked over the crime scene in a confused manner. "Did you already find something?"
"The umbrella rack at the front door was tipped over and two mirrors in the flat were shattered. The victim, Elbert Greene, was strangled and is dead for about 16 hours now. There are no signs of a break-in, so the culprit had to have a key or the door was open. There was nothing out of the ordinary except for the umbrella rack and the mirrors though," Anderson explained. "There was a victim two weeks ago that also was strangled and had their eyes removed. We think the murders are connected."
The gray-haired man nodded slightly before turning to Joanne. "Do you think so?"
"Probably, yes," she mumbled. "But I can't tell for sure without looking at the previous crime scene. Could you give me a pair of gloves?"
"Of course," Anderson smiled and got out a pair of ivory colored latex gloves from the pocket of his blue disposable overall.
After putting them on, the woman squatted down beside the corpse, trying not to step into the water. She gently grasped the man's head with both of her hands and lifted it towards her so she could inspect his eye sockets. Her blue eyes were gazing into nothing interesting so she got up again and looked at the detached eyes that were swimming in the cold water.
She took them out of the tub and inspected them thoroughly. Both of them had damaged scleras with wounds the size of a thumb. She looked at them a little longer before putting the spheres back into the tub. She turned to the shattered mirror, inspecting the shards that landed in the sink along with a simple glass soap dispenser. They were clean and the way they fell to the ground seemed like they weren't touched.
"It was probably shattered with the soap dispenser, the glass is rather hard so it could shatter the mirror without breaking itself," Anderson said.
"Yes, I think you're right." Joanne inspected every shard curiously. "I'll go take a look at the other mirror," she mumbled absentmindedly and walked out of the bathroom back to the front door where the umbrella rack is.
"She said I'm right, I like her already," Anderson whispered to Sally who still stood in the doorframe with a rather disgusted look on her face.
"You know I have freak senses and I'm pretty sure she's just as weird as Sherlock."
"Sally!" Greg rebuked.
As they walked back to the entrance, Joanne was already inspecting the mirror that was attached to a wall in the living room, just beside the front door. "I have an idea."
Greg just looked at her in anticipation as she combed one of the loose waves behind her right ear.
"But the CIS has to go outside of the flat for a second, I need room. The three of you can stay if you like."
"Okay, I'll handle it." Admittedly, he was a little confused why she needed room, but commanded the team that was looking for clues in the rest of the flat to get outside for a moment nonetheless. She followed them back into the hallway.
Joanne started by slowly opening the front door and walking through it. "I quietly unlock the front door and then sneak through the living room, looking for Mr. Greene. I might have been quiet, but Greene still heard something. I can hear him getting out of the bathtub, so I quickly open the door and storm into the room."
She did the things she was explaining, just slower. Sally, Greg, and Anderson followed her to the bathroom. "I immediately start to strangle him, he is my target," she mumbled while hovering over the corpse again, gently wrapping her hands around his neck. "I strangle the life out of him, but he just won't stop looking at me. I navigate my hands to his eyes and gouge them out with brute force. Now that his gaze isn't upon me anymore, I continue to strangle him. I dominate him easily, Greene can't even try to fight me."
"After I am done," she said while getting up. "I accidentally look into the mirror. There is someone else looking at me, so I take the soap dispenser and try to bash his head in. Now that he is gone, I quickly run out of the bathroom. People probably heard his screams while I tore his eyes out. I am nervous, psychotic even, so I trip over the umbrella rack next to the coat hanger."
Back in the living room, she placed herself in front of the other shattered mirror. "While tripping, I notice another person looking at me so I take one of the umbrellas and try to make him stop looking before running away." Joanne looked over the living room again. "What do you think?"
Sally was shaking her head while she looked at Joanne's confident smile. "Yep, she's crazy."
A/N
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Please tell me what you think, I'd really appreciate it :) Thanks to my dear firend Marsiac for helping me with this 3