Authors note
hi everyone! This is my first ever fan fiction, so please review! i just want to pay some credit to BroardwaysStarlettQueen and her story The Games Of Broken Stars, without which I would not have been able to write this. Her plot is vastly different to mine, but if you read her story you will notice similarities. Do read her story it is fantastic! My English teacher says that the way you know your work is good is if people copy your ideas. Enjoy the story and review
Disclaimer- I do not own Doctor who, or Sherlock. If I did, I would not leave you hanging for the 50th or series 3!
The 6 year old boy sat on his small bed, staring at the sky. He didn't really understand the stars, they did not interest him. He much preferred chemistry. Bu tonight there was something that made him put down his book and look out of his window. It showed the back of his garden, and the forest beyond. His alert greeny blue eyes flickered over the woods. No there was something wrong. But what was it? He leaned out a thin pale hand and opened the window. The light night breeze ruffled his dark curly hair, and the moonlight sharpened a thin and already handsome face. No there was definitely something wrong. That patch of sky… the rest of the sky was black, but there, in the sky, was a square of blue. It was getting larger and closer. He gasped it wasn't a patch of sky, it was a box! A blue box! The boy watched as it spun and swirled through the air, then with an almighty crash, it landed with a bounce in the wood. Almost immediately, the boy had thrown on his dressing gown and was scaling quickly and efficiently down the drainpipe, and over the fence. Once in the wood, he pulled a small torch from his pocket and set off through the woods. He found what he was looking for soon enough. A police public call box, lying on its side, with 3 figures lying next to it. One was a young woman, with short brown hair. She was lying face down, as if she had recovered from the crash and had tried to crawl away. He noted this and every other thing about this girl. His eyes didn't miss a detail. The next was a man in a curious tweed jacket and brown floppy hair, who was lying on his back. He was holding a small pencil like device in one hand that was buzzing quietly. He was itching to see what it was, but there was still one person to examine. He was young but white-haired. He was somehow different from the others. Evil seemed to radiate from every pore in his body. Every instinct was screaming for the boy to run, but he didn't. He tentively reached out a long finger and touched the man's face. Instantly his head was filled with the sound of drums.
Dun dun dun dun, dun dun dun dun.
He stumbled backwards, and was caught by the man in tweed.
"It hurts!" he gasped aloud. The tweed man hadn't heard.
"Clara, catch him!" he shouted, as he lunged forward towards the white-haired man, who had jumped to his feet and was laughing manically. A green sphere burst from his green pencil device, and enfolded the man. The boy, having been thrown backwards, barrelled into the pretty young woman-Clara. She caught him before he fell.
"Shh shh it's ok now" she whispered.
He was shaking, he was scared. He was never scared.
"Caring is not an advantage" isn't that what his brother said? But he couldn't help it. He was sobbing now. A part of his brain was sitting back, and thinking logically. But his child brain had decided to encompass his body, and now he was sobbing, heaving, in time with the drums in his head.
"They hurt!" he sobbed "they hurt so badly!"
Clara just hugged him tight. The crazy man was still being held in the tweed man's green circle of light.
"You know you can't defeat me, Doctor!" the mad man shouted. "I am too powerful. Even if you destroy me, my trigger has been implanted into someone else. You have failed!" He spat.
The tweed man-the Doctor- turned a stared straight at him, which was hard to do, because his right arm held the pencil thing that was keeping the madman in the green bubble. Then he looked at Clara.
"Clara, remember when we first met them, the others, they knew who we were. He knew us! Could this be..?"
Clara's eyes widened and she looked down at him.
"Clara, hold this!" shouted the Doctor. Clara took the pencil thing and the Doctor knelt down next to him.
"It's ok. I'm the Doctor. Here to help. What's your name?"
"Sherlock." Said Sherlock "Sherlock Holmes."
Clara and the Doctor shared elated looks.
"It's a paradox" she breathed
"wibbily wobbly-"started the Doctor
"Timey wimey!" finished Clara
Having been continuously laughing manically for the past 5 minutes of that exchange, the madman had stopped in time to hear the last part.
"Paradox?" he asked, suddenly looking worried. "What paradox? What do you mean?"
"I mean, Master that you don't understand. Look at the poor kid; you've put the trigger into. Its 20 years too early, so this poor child, this pure, innocent child, with those drums in his head, will have to live with it for the rest of his life"
"So?" the Master sneered
"So, look at him, Master. Really look"
The Master looked. His eyes seemed to bore into Sherlock's. It wasn't a nice feeling to say the least. It was full of hate and evil and greed. And then shock. Not Sherlock's shock, but the Masters. He let out a gasp of horror.
"No!"
"Yes! Do you not see? Yet again you see but do not observe." He turned and winked at Sherlock.
"You said that you didn't know how Morirty had placed the trigger in a human, or in whom. That's why you were looking for him! That's why you set a trap for him. That's why Moriarty was confused, because he had never placed the trigger! You did"
The green light intensified and the Master cried out in pain and disappeared.
"Doctor, Doctor, what happened?"
"A teleport"
"A teleport where?"
"The time travelling robot powered by minimised people!"
"The Tesalecta!" Clara cried
"They'll know what to do with him"
He turned and looked straight at Sherlock, who had his back pressed against a tree.
"Are you ok?" he asked
"Yeah" Sherlock answered, jolted from his shock.
"I-I" he started to speak, but collapsed to the round. The drums had come back with full force. Clara ran over and helped him onto her lap. He was shivering.
"Doctor is this really-?"
"Yeah this is 6 year old Sherlock"
He knelt down and looked Sherlock straight in the eye
"You have a noise in your head" he was blunt and straight to the point. No more happiness or joy or pain. Just anger. But not at Sherlock. At the Master. Sherlock nodded.
"Listen to me Sherlock. I know you in your future. When I met you, you already knew who I was. But I had never met you. You will be so important one day Sherlock. But you can't live with those drums in your head."
"Can't you just take them out Doctor?"
"Yes, yes I could. But if I did so then none of what happened will happen. They will implant the trigger in someone else, and they won't be a good as resisting as he was. Or will be I suppose." The Doctor turned back to Sherlock.
"Sherlock, I am going to wipe your memory of tonight. It'll be ok. You'll see me again. I'll put a trigger, so when you see me again you will remember. Trust me, I know it works. But it'll keep the drums at bay, until-"
He was broken off by Clara's hand round his mouth
"Spoilers" She said.
Sherlock realised he had to. He couldn't live with the never ending drums. Did he really want that around for the next 20 years?
"Doctor?" he asked as the Doctor placed his hands on his face. "Am I ok? In the future. Am I cool, clever? Cos Mycroft says I'm not. I don't want to be useless"
"Sherlock" the Doctor smiled "you will be amazing"