This is a re-write of 'The Rebel Flesh' or whatever the name of the second part is. I just thought this scene would work with the Sherlock characters. Nancy is just... okay I couldn't remember the name of the factory boss so I made Nancy.
This is a one-shot. There will be no carry-on. Don't ask for one, I don't have time.
WARNING: This contains two Sherlocks, which might lead to confusion and in extreme cases insanity. Please be careful.
RATED: T for my paranoia, the non-graphic kissing, and the slightly confusing plot.

"Sherlock! You can't stay!"

The floor trembled and the door shook as colliding forces attempted to set themselves free. Between the growling of the earth and the growling from the other side of the door John could barely hear the expressions of surprise from inside the TARDIS as the remaining gangers and humans gawped at the impossibility of its dimensions.

"Of course I can. You're not stopping me." Sherlock said, almost stubbornly, from where he was holding the door back to stop the ganger coming in.

"Sherlock! Come on!" John shouted, looking back at the open doors of the TARDIS.

"If I move then Jennifer will break down this door and kill us all."

"No! Sherlock you can't die here! Not now!" John shouted, looking at his Sherlock with desperation. This couldn't be happening. Sherlock couldn't die here, not now, because John had seen him die on that mountain in Wales. He had to live.

"Would you like me to take his place Dr Watson?" A voice asked from behind. It was ganger Sherlock, with his burnt, black scarf and paler skin and strange eyes.

"No, of course not. But this man, I solved crimes with him. And you're brilliant and can deduce just as good as him, but… you're not him. You're not the Sherlock Holmes. I'm sorry." John told him.

"I'm-I'm not Sherlock Holmes?" The fake Sherlock asked.

"No, I'm sorry. There's only one Sherlock Holmes, and it's him." He said, looking over at his Sherlock.

"John…" He turned around when his Sherlock called his name.

"John… we swapped scarves."

"What!?"

"I'm not the real Sherlock."

"I am." The flesh Sherlock said.

"It can't be." John said, looking from one Holmes to another. "You're the real one." He said to his Sherlock, the one keeping the door from being thrown open.

"No, I'm not. I never was." He replied, with a hint of resignation.

"But…"

"We swapped scarves when we first met. I'm the original." The other Sherlock said.

"We had to know if we were truly the same person John. It was an experiment. It was vital that we found out more about the Gangers." The Sherlock by the door said. The flesh one. He looked straight into John's eyes.

"We needed to see it through your eyes. Ever loyal Watson, you keep me right." Ganger Sherlock said, his voice softer and more fond than he had ever heard it before. His eyes sparkled in the dim light, so readable that John could not help but see the emotions he felt. Sadness. Respect. Vulnerability. Longing. Pity.

"I… I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's alright. Just human nature Watson. If anything, you're more humane than anyone else I know. Anyone else would have asked him" He pointed at the original Sherlock "to take my place. You did what you thought was right."

"I didn't think it was possible." John said, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"What?" John reached forward and cupped Sherlock's cheeks, bringing him into a kiss. After struggling for a moment, Sherlock gave in and relaxed into the kiss. When John finally broke away, his face was tinged red and his pupils were larger than normal.

"You're twice the man I thought you were." John said, bringing Sherlock into an embrace. He rested his head in the crook of Sherlock's shoulder.

"Inspect the bodies." He whispered quietly into John's ear. John opened his mouth to ask what he meant when the ground gave a violent shake and he was knocked out of his embrace. He stumbled slightly, and watched with wide eyes as the door Sherlock was standing against bent outwards alarmingly.

"John, Sherlock, come on!" Molly shouted from the doorway of the TARDIS.

"Go! I won't let you die here as well." A slightly flustered Sherlock told him, pushing him in the direction of the TARDIS. John went, stumbling through the doorway and into the orange light that bathed the console room.

It was only Sherlock and Sherlock that were left, and Nancy.

"Well, it looks like this will be the death of me. It isn't that impressive, really." The Sherlock ganger said, taking off the charred scarf he wore.

"Oh, come on, don't be such a theatrical." Human Sherlock told him.

"I can't help it. I'm just too fabulous." The retort was, accompanied with a smirk.

"Really? You know… this might not be the end. You've got a small chance of survival, but you are a consulting detective. You should be able to pull something off."

"Hopefully. Having two of us is quite entertaining."

"Yes, it is." He agreed.

"How did you find the kiss?"

"Disturbing. And strangely fascinating. Does my hair really look that good?"

"Yup."

"Sherlock!" Molly cries from within the TARDIS.

"Well then, I have a boyfriend to steal-" Human Sherlock says

"We're not a couple!" The other Sherlock says in mock annoyance.

"-an arena to crash-"

"Good look finding it." Flesh Sherlock interrupted.

"-and a funeral to plan."

"Whose?" Ganger Sherlock asks sharply.

"My own. Nancy, are you coming?"

"This is my factory. I'm staying right here."

"Brave choice. I'm not going to convince you otherwise, am I?"

"Nope. Now go, before this place blows." Nancy said.

Sherlock gave himself a wink, and then dashed off into the TARDIS, navigating away from the castle as quickly as possible. The TARDIS disappeared with a vwoop vwoop, and ganger Sherlock and Nancy were left keeping the door closed.

"Well there's a river of acid above us that will dissolve her."

"It'll dissolve us too, won't it?"

"Possibly. But I think I have a way out."

"A way out? How?"

Sherlock gave a sly smirk, and stepped away from the doors, taking Nancy with him. The burst open and Jennifer shrieked at them.

"Isn't it obvious?" Sherlock raised the Sonic Screwdriver and pressed a button, causing Jennifer to dissolve, closely followed by them.

[TARDIS, John and Molly stand around, Sherlock enters]

"John, remember the bodies. Inspect the bodies." Sherlock said.

"Wait, what?" John asked. Suddenly, the doubled over as a sharp pain rocketed up his leg.

"Argh!"

"John! What's wrong!?" Molly squeaked, holding John so that he wouldn't overbalance and fall.

"He twisted his foot while hunting."

"Hunting?" Molly asked in confusion.

"Yes. He was running from a wolf when he tripped and twisted his ankle."

"What!? Sherlock that can't be true!" John said, cradling his foot and looking up at Sherlock.

"Sherlock you're going to have to explain because I don't understand." Molly said, looking at Sherlock with concern.

"He twisted his ankle in twelve. I don't know anything more than that. I needed data on the flesh. There's no point theorizing without data. That's why I scanned it. Why I deduced it. That's why we were there in the first place. It was important for me to learn as much as I could. I was going to drop you off at Barcelona, but things got in the way. It always happens."

"Argh!" John yelped suddenly at the white hot pain inching itself up his arm. He rolled up his jumper sleeve to see that long scratch marks were being drawn into his skin on his right arm. The blood didn't flow out, but instead it clotted darkly, like he had cut himself weeks ago.

"Sherlock, it hurts."

"John it's going to be okay." Molly told him, but her voice betrayed her uncertainty.

"Don't panic. I needed enough data to be able to block the signal to the flesh." Sherlock said.

"What signal?"

"The signal to you." Sherlock said, almost with regret.

Molly gaped, but John just stared at Sherlock.

"Sherlock."

"Molly, stand away from him." Sherlock said calmly.

"He needs help. No." Molly said.

"Molly, I'm going to be as nice as I can, but this needs to be done. And you need to stand away!" Sherlock said, his voice becoming stern at the end. Molly glanced at John, and then Sherlock, and then backed away slowly from John. John looked at her in fear, and then back at Sherlock, begging him to tell him what was happening.

"Please. Sherlock, I am frightened. I am properly, properly scared right now."

"Don't be." Sherlock said, walking over to John, where he stood gripping the railing with one foot lifted off the ground. "John, don't panic." He stood right in front of John, putting a hand on either side of his face. "I'm coming for you. Wherever you go, I will be there for you. I will protect you. No matter what happens, I will find you."

"But Sherlock, I'm right here."

"I'm sorry John but you're not. You haven't been here for a long time." Sherlock told him. John felt so, so alone suddenly. What had happened? Where was he really? He was so confused and so, so frightened, more than at any other time in his life.

"Sherlock?" He asked, his voice breaking as he choked back the sobs. Sherlock responded by leaning forward and placing his lips on John, kissing him. John tensed, but slowly relaxed into Sherlock, putting one hand through his wild curls. Sherlock broke apart suddenly.

"I love you John, and no matter where you go I will get you back. I will find you, and I will always love you. Don't panic. Inspect the bodies. Trust your instincts. It's not all a dream. Get the backpack." Sherlock let go of John and walked away, back up the console.

"May the odds be ever in your favour, John Hamish Watson."

Sherlock aimed the Sonic Screwdriver at John, and he dissolved into a puddle.

"Hello everyone, and welcome to the 221st annual Hunger Games. As always, ladies first!"

"And the male tribute for district twelve is… Harry Watson!"

The end. That is the end. This is a one-shot. If you want to write a continuance of this, feel free to drop me a PM or mention it in the reviews. But I will not be continuing this. I'm sorry.