No Strings Attached: Doctor Strange x GN Reader (Marvel and Sherlock Crossover)

Chapter Five: Strange Symbols

"Y/N, wake up," your eyes stirred, as you felt someone shaking you back and forth.

Groggily opening them to be met with the bright morning light you were met with the familiar face of Sherlock.

Frowning at the sudden waking, you turned on the couch, soreness running throughout your body from the uncomfortable resting spot.

"What is it?" Stretching in an attempt to get your body feeling normal again.

"Lestrade called," Sherlock told you, holding out a hand that you took to get up from the couch, "We have a case."

"What's the details?" You asked walking over to the bathroom, and grabbing a brush to comb out the knots that had appeared overnight.

Sherlock followed behind, grabbing his comb as well, "Woman in her 30s, has money, that's all he would tell over the phone."

"No, evidence?" You asked as you ran gel throughout your hair handing the bottle to Sherlock after.

Sherlock shrugged, leaving the room and heading off to do God knows what to let you finish getting ready to appear at the scene., you entered your bedroom.

Putting on the tight f/c shirt you always wore, you picked out a pair of black pants, pairing them all with the black blazer you had purchased with Mary. It was best to look professional at a crime scene, compared to Sherlock you actually worked for the Yard, you couldn't show up in just a t-shirt and jeans.

Picking up your notebook, you exited your bedroom, ready to solve a case.

—

You and Sherlock paid the cab driver, wishing him a goodbye and a thank you for getting you to the scene fast.

"My favorite duo!" Lestrade called from the entrance of the building the crime scene was in. The two-story gray building eerily struck a nerve within you for no explanation. It was foggy outside, seeming to add to the mystery of yet another murder in London.

"I'm telling John you said that," you joked as you looked around, members of the force scattered about the pavement engaged in their own conversations. "Where's my crew?"

"Anderson has them all inside," Lestrade led the way inside the building, the inside monotone, covered in grays and other neutral colors.

Sherlock walked beside you silently, letting you do your own thing before he started his own.

"Whoever lived here didn't have much style," you muttered as Lestrade led you up the stairs. Holding up the tape at the top, letting you and Sherlock duck under.

Walking into what you presumed was the actual scene, officers standing outside, you were met with your crew. The few members of the force that worked forensics seemed to be scanning the room looking for any pieces of evidence.

"Everybody out," you told them, Anderson sent a glare before leaving the room with the others. "I need details, Lestrade."

"Lisa Walters, thirty-five years old. Works part-time as a chef and bartender." Lestrade handed you the file that contained basic information about the victim and her medical records.

Sherlock and you got closer to the woman, each of you putting on a pair of gloves handed to you by Lestrade. Both of you seemed to have the same thoughts, each taking out your magnifying glasses and examining the woman's face, neck, and hands.

Looking over her neck it was evident that there were some signs of struggle, a purple bruise in the shape of a hand covering the width of her neck. You knew that wasn't how she died though, the symptoms didn't add up, her face was white and clammy, and considering that the murder only happened hours ago it wasn't a symptom of blood loss or loss of circulation.

Sherlock began to study the stab wound on the woman's stomach, looking like it was most likely made by a sharp but small knife.

Sherlock looked at you, meeting your eyes and shaking his head 'no'.

Getting up you went to the door, finding Anderson slouched against the wall talking to Donovan, "Anderson, I want a toxicology report."

"Toxicology?" Lestrade asked, confused, having heard you from the inside of the scene.

Sherlock decided to finally talk and fill him in, "We believe she was poisoned. Her symptoms don't match blood loss or asphyxiation."

Suddenly a bright idea struck your mind, running the few feet to the scene you got on the floor as close as you could to the woman's face.

Examining it you failed to find what you were looking for on her face, scanning the rest of her body and letting out a yell of triumph as you came across the small unnatural holes on the skin in between her fingers.

Sherlock smiled, wondering why he didn't think of that as you eagerly explained to Lestrade how you found the place where the poison, they would no doubt find on the report, was inserted.

Sherlock scoured the room for any evidence as you studied the holes on the woman's hands. Had she been tricked into getting them? Was she drugged before? Was she forced?

Most of the signs pointed to her being forced, the hand marks on her neck, the knife wound, it all added up. If Sherlock agreed then that was no doubt the right answer to this mystery.

As you still studied the rest of her body, Sherlock handed you some bags full of evidence he had found.

Glancing at the bags in your hands you noticed strands of hair, a piece of metal, likely from the knife, and a woman's watch, an obsidian-like black with a golden symbol that laid under the numbers on the centerpiece.

"Anderson," you yelled loud enough for the man to hear and peek inside, "I want you to run the blacklight in this room and screen it, see if you can find any fluids."

Sherlock took the watch from your hand as you spoke, examining it more closely then he had before. Something about the symbol struck something within him, he knew it from somewhere but he couldn't exactly place it, even after scouring his mind. Maybe Mycroft would have some records, all he knew was that had had this deep feeling that this could be a dangerous and essential part of this case. 

Happy Halloween!