"Once upon a time," the self-satisfied drawl on 221b Baker Street's answering machine began, "four clever children sat looking at a picture book full of animals and birds. And then just as the clock in the church tower struck twelve, the little girl said-" He paused for dramatic effect. "There's something in my eye."
The Doctor looked up from his newspaper.
Sherlock slowly lowered his teacup to the table.
John froze, looking uncertainly at his flatmates. The Doctor had gone all quiet, and Sherlock was making that face again. Not good.
The voice on the answering machine continued: "What had became of her, no one knew, nor could anyone find the slightest information- excepting her boys."
"No," the Doctor said, age and helplessness apparent in his eyes.
Moriarty chuckled. "Amelia Jessica Pond. Bit fairytale, isn't it? And every fairytale needs a good villain."
The Doctor had enough presence of mind to grab the phone. "What have you done to my Amelia?"
He sounded amused. "Your Amelia, is it? Well, possession is nine-tenths of the law."
Sherlock snatched the phone, his expression an enraged snarl. "If you've hurt her-"
"You'll what?" Moriarty's voice dripped with condescension. "Destroy me? Make me regret that I was ever born? You know, for all your so-called intelligence, you're remarkably predictable. Tell you what- I'll let you talk to her." There's a clattering sound, and Amy's voice comes through the receiver. "Hello?"
She needed reassurance, she needed to know how strong she was, how much they believed in her, and Sherlock wasn't likely to give her that. The Doctor slid the phone from Sherlock's hands, hitting the speakerphone button as he did so. "Amelia." Pacing into the kitchen, he circled the table, Sherlock and John following. "Where are you?"
"No idea. Somewhere underground. There are tunnels, it's dark- I have this flashlight, but I can't see more than a few feet in front of-" The sound of a phone falling to the ground. Metal against metal, a muffled cry.
Amelia's fingers scrabbling in the earth. Then a click- she'd found the phone. "Sorry," she said, catching her breath. "There are robots in the tunnels- robots with swords. Oh, and swarms of creepy mice, large dogs, traps-" A deep breath. Sherlock could envision her closing her eyes for a moment, steadying herself. "I'm all right, though."
Sherlock leaned over and spoke into the phone. "He said there was something in your eye. What does that mean?"
The Doctor shot him a look: shut up, you'll only upset her.
"Parasitic worm," Amy murmured. "Apparently, I have ten hours before it burrows out through my cornea. Great, isn't it- ugh, I can feel it pressing against the back of my eyeball…"
John felt like he should contribute to the conversation. "All right." His voice didn't shake, and he was very proud of himself for it. "Just stay where you are- we'll come find you."
"Can't. Moriarty's driving me deeper into the tunnels- if I stay where I am, I'll get stabbed and bleed to death!"
Static crackled across the line. "Okay, boys," Moriarty cooed, "finish up! Your fairytale princess is about to be a busy, busy girl."
The Doctor's thoughts moved in fast-forward timelapse. Strategies, maps of London, how to help Amy once they'd found her… "All right. Don't go farther into the tunnels than you have to, and conserve your flashlight battery. Try to find food and water, or at least water, and stay calm. Remember, you're the strongest of all of us."
She chuckled, a sound of genuine amusement. "I'm well aware of that." Her voice sounded farther away- clearly, the phone's connection was dying. "Come and get me, boys. Otherwise, I might just have escaped on my own by the time you show up…" A soft click, and then the hollowness of a dial tone.
(Note: The fairytale referenced in this fic is The Snow Queen, for anyone who's curious about that sort of thing.)