Fire and Ice

Trickster Blood

So apparently I'm really bad at this because I posted the wrong chapter again. Sorry XD

Chapter 11: Trickster Blood

“I was the doctor who wrote the autopsy for James Moriarty,” Molly confirmed as we followed her down a long hallway, “They didn’t want me to because I’d been in a relationship with him but I insisted. I knew that if something happened then you or Greg would have come to me, so I wanted to have it handy.”

“Thank you for this, Molly,” I said as she pulled out Moriarty’s autopsy from a folder. I handed the autopsy to Sherlock who immediately had his nose buried in it.

“So what, exactly, happened that day?” I asked.

“Well, you know I was helping Sherlock that day as well, so I pretended examined his,” she hesitated, “body and put out a fake autopsy and death certificate. When that was done, which wasn’t long, the other coroners had finished with Moriarty’s body and gave him to me so I could do some research of my own. By that point it was around half an hour since Sherlock had jumped. Moriarty was killed by trauma to the brain and he wouldn’t have had enough blood in his body to stay alive even if the brain trauma hadn’t killed him.”

“And it was definitely his body?” I asked, “We have a theory that Moriarty used some sort of fake blood to pretend to kill himself. But after Sherlock jumped, he had a double come up and actually kill himself.

“From it was exact to his medical history, but the problem is, I couldn’t get any further back than 2010. It’s like he appeared on the planet in that year or something,” Molly explained. I looked back at Sam and Dean who didn’t look surprised.

“Could have been in another country and moved here?” I suggested.

“If so then his medical history was all in paperwork, I should be able to access anything about him from any country on there only if it was electronically recorded,” she said, nodding towards the computer in the corner of the room. 

“Is there any country that doesn’t?” Sam asked.

“Not that I know of, besides places that don’t have health care,” she said.

“Maybe that’s it,” I said.

“But there’s something else, John,” Molly said worriedly. Even Sherlock looked up from his paperwork to see what was wrong. “From a distance it looks like normal blood, but- but it’s not.”

“What do you mean?” I said as I followed her over to a refrigerator.

She pulled out a couple vials of blood and shook them up a bit, “This is his blood,” she started, “usually blood would have separated by now, but this hasn’t changed since the day he died.”

“What?” Sherlock said and strode over to us.

“Feel this,” she said, handing us each a vial. Even after being in the refrigerator for who knows how long, the blood was still hot. “It’s been like that since the day he died.”

“That’s impossible,” Sherlock gasped.

“It’s not only that,” Molly said, “John, could I have a blood sample? I don’t have any fresh blood to compare this to.”

“Go ahead,” I said and pulled up my sleeve. Molly took a bit of blood and put it on a microscope slide. Then she took some of Moriarty’s blood and put it on a different slide.

She slid my blood under the microscope then turned it on, “Look at John’s blood,” she said and we all took a look at it. There wasn’t anything off about it, “Now look at Moriarty’s,” she said, replacing my slide with his.