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Dissection - A Sherlock Ficlet

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  • Dissection - A Sherlock Ficlet

    Fandom: Sherlock (Duh!)
    Description: A small fic featuring a certain popular fan theory
    Rating: U

    The body is laid out before me, cold, unmoving, a thing that used to be a person. It is a sight that a lot of people will never be ready to see, a sight that might even make some sick to the stomach, but I got used to it a long time ago. The morgue too, with its silent echoes and cool still air is now just a workplace for me .. or maybe just a little bit more. Maybe the morgue is my bolt hole, my sanctuary, a place where I can let the mask drop and just be myself amongst the corpses. Yeah, maybe that’s it.

    I suppose you could say it was one of the things that drew me to the job. I’ve never been what you’d call good with people, my social skills definitely aren’t as well honed as they could be but I made my peace with that a long time ago. I suppose in that respect I’m a little like Sherlock really and, if he ever thought about it, ever really thought to notice shy little Molly Hooper, I just know he’d appreciate the other skills you need to hold down a job as a pathologist.

    The human body contains so many secrets you see, so many clues hidden away in its elegant complexity and the ones who find their way down here sometimes have a few more than they should. A simple Y-cut though, a measuring of the organs, an examination of stomach contents and you’d be amazed at what can be uncovered. All it takes is a patient, logical approach, an eye for detail and an analytical mind coupled with a lack of squeamishness in order to get the job done and those are things I’ve always possessed, It’s what makes me such a good criminal.

    Jim Moriarty? Oh come on, surely all that over the top theatrical stuff must have rankled with you just a little bit. I mean here we have a supposed master criminal, a man capable of planning and executing the most elaborate of crimes, of running rings around the police and even posing a serious challenge to the (by now) famous Holmes brothers but who is as changeable as the wind and, oh, that temper! No; such a man would never have been able to maintain the kind of empire I have, not whilst remaining beneath the radar.

    He had intelligence, let’s be fair to him and he certainly wasn’t without his uses. Being a consummate actor was a very good start, and being so very, very easy to manipulate was, well, just a joy. It was almost too easy to get him into a position where he actually believed he was this master criminal to let him think that every plan, every idea, that I fed him was his own and that I was just a lowly underling. The details of course were always mine, but he wasn’t to know that.

    In fact things could hardly have gone better for me. Of course it really never was in doubt. When you have a two player game such as my boys have been playing there will always be a winner and a loser... eventually. The only way to ensure a win is to play a different game, one where you win whatever the result and that’s just what I did. The encounter on the rooftop was a long time in the planning but it was inevitable and there were only two possible outcomes. Either Sherlock would take the bait and plummet to his death, or dear Jim would embrace his growing instability and do something ... dramatic.

    If I’m honest I never considered the possibility of Sherlock asking me for help and I didn’t for one minute think Jim had become quite so unhinged as to take his own life, but it’s still a result I can work with. With Jim Moriarty dead, I can move on, let things die down and return to the shadows. I like my anonymity. As I say; I’m not that good with people.

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