A/N: Third and Final installment for my Deduction and Riddles Trilogy, for my FireflyxDoctorWhoxSherlock mix. I hope everyone will enjoy and has enjoyed the trip so far! I hope the pace of the story is well received, yet mostly I hope that every reader experienced something from this story.
Warnings: This is a great deal more angsty than the previous two one-shots; it contains character death. This is a Sherlock/River Tam story with hints of Eleven/River Song. Also it is beneficial to read, 'First Of Many' and 'Waiting' in order to fully understand the concept behind this story. (Not forcing you to read the others, but it would simply make this story less confusing).
Disclaimer: Only the strangest of strange could come up with a plot like this, and have absolutely no rights to the original pieces of works.
Read. Review. Enjoy. Anything for your Fanfiction needs.
Playing The Game
Sherlock's bright grey eyes took in the board in front of him. Studying the positions of the pieces, figuring out the best strategy. A quick glance at his opponent has him doubting the two previous moves. Than again, he was Sherlock Holmes; he was always right. Reaching across the board, moving one of the pieces quickly across the squares. "I now have all your little pieces and all my pieces have been made King. I win."
All of the remaining black checker pieces indeed have been doubled, entitling them with King status. A neat stack of red pieces lined up against the edge of the board. Sherlock glanced at the clock once more and then to the women before him.
"Would you stop that please? No matter how many times you look at that clock they are still going to be late. After all we know them best, and if they aren't given a certain time they'd come whenever it happens to fit in with their schedules." The Doctor of Archeology, River Song rolled her eyes at Sherlock.
"We have played three different games so far and my patients grows thin."
"You must remember there is always a time for a beginning and there is time for ending," River said softly.
Sherlock narrowed his eyes, "you're keeping something from me. I know it has something to do with my River, and I know it's the reason why they are late. Now the question remains. What's the connecting factor, unless of course this is the moment River will meet me for the first time?"
Dr. River didn't bother to encourage the man's deductions, or elude to whether he was correct or not, instead she quirked an eyebrow and smirked. Before either one of them could speak up the whir-ing of the TARDIS echoed throughout the small cafe.
The old fashioned police box didn't seem to stand out in the empty street of London. Although, the funny man with the strangest of hats ran into the cafe where River Song and Sherlock Holmes sat unamused. The Doctor, however, didn't look all that pleased himself, instead his usual larger than life smile was replaced with a grimed expression.
"What took you so damn long?" Sherlock was first to speak, grey eyes darkening into storm clouds. His anger rising with every word not spoken by either Doctor.
"Sherlock, let him explain," River paused before addressing her sweetie. "Darling I must be off. I know this isn't my time or place." Smiling a sad, knowing smile River stood up from the chair, reached a hand across to her sweetie and stroked his cheek lovingly only after knocking off the ridiculous hat he was previously wearing. "Come and visit me once everything is over sweetie; I'll be waiting." The other Doctor exited the cafe, leaving the Doctor and Sherlock in an intense staring contest.
"Come with me," said the Time-lord, his tone of voice completely serious. Spinning on the balls of his feet the Consulting Detective immediately followed wondering what was happening, or perhaps what had already happened.
The mismatched pair marched their way to the TARDIS in complete silence. Even as the Doctor unlocked the door and marched his way inside he didn't automatically make his way to the bridge of the ship. This peeked Holmes' interest because other than meeting his River for the first time he's never actually explored the Doctor's home. Easily they swerved down corridors and travelled up winding stair cases until they stopped in front of a door. The frame of the door glowed with the sparks and illuminating lights from the living soul of the TARDIS. Something written in a different language, he could only assume it was Gallifrayic, was placed on the door. As Sherlock looked closer the writing started to be translated.
River's Room was now clearly shown in very neat cursive. Placing a tentative hand over the words, his long fingers began to trace the name slowly. Sherlock's grey eyes lightening in curiosity. Glancing over his shoulder to the Doctor, the man wondered what was happening. "I know I was correct when I said this has something to do with River. Furthermore, the more you two keep from me the more my patients grows thiner," Sherlock said after a moment of silence.
"This room is River's room, all aspects of her in fact. Every time I meet a regeneration of River I am able to place her in this room and it configures to what she needs, for example my River, in this moment of time would want a large bed and most likely a very large wardrobe. River Tam however..." The Doctor trailed off knowing that Sherlock knew this version of River much better and would be able to supply the remainder of the sentence.
The dark haired man quirked his lips as his answer, instead he asked for entrance to the room. In which the shaggy haired Doctor shrugged, "not sure really, never once tried while the TARDIS was configuring. Although, I should warn you about your very own sweetie."
"Finally, I was beginning to worry something was actually very wrong." Sherlock said as his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"I know, you know of the Academy, and what they did to our dear River Tam," The Doctor didn't wait for an response, "because of how destroyed River's mind became, making her emotionally and psychologically unstable, I wasn't able to reach that far into her past. Even if I could, going too far back would ruin those moments that River needed to experience. I would never forgive myself if River Song was not able to turn into River Tam because that would mean depriving you of something you should have for yourself, and I do not want to be held responsible. Now since I wasn't able to reach to far back I only managed to bring River here because she sent me a telepathic S.O.S. Unfortunately, it was called during her time in the Academy. According to her timeline they've had countless hours in those so called 'sessions'. River is the worst state of mind I've ever encountered."
A piercing scream could be heard from behind that closed door. Without any thought to his actions Sherlock rushed through the door to where he heard his River's startling scream. As soon as he was through the glowing frame, his grey eyes searched the brightly lit space.
The room was still aglow with the spark and flare of gold that represented the soul of the TARDIS. It didn't appear to have any walls and it stretched out as far as the eye could see. It was simply space. And in the infinite space was River Tam, the girl genius.
Curled up tightly, her face placed upon her knees, as her long hair flowed over her shoulders almost as if it was a cloak. Her arms encircling her legs, making her tiny body seem smaller. However, River was smaller in all aspects considering her age was the youngest Sherlock has ever seen her. Unnoticed the Doctor trailed in behind Sherlock, uncertain of how to continue with the situation. He stood back and watched as Sherlock did what he did best, interact with River.
The scream stopped once Sherlock reached a close distance to River. The scream became muttering. Different thoughts strung together incoherently; each thought wanting to be let out vocally.
"Pain, bottled up. Not even time to say. Can't stop the pins. The needles. Need out. But can't see. Someone stop him! Only for me to hear." River continued to ramble, face still facing her knees.
Sherlock knew that from past experiences River was more than just psychic. Before even those abilities, she was more empathic. She could feel other people's intentions and motives; emotions people surrounding her was experiencing swam around her subconsciously. The pieces started to fit, the scream was because of him. It was his pain, the pain she mentioned. As his thoughts continued something started to form within the golden room. As it solidified Sherlock finally noticed it.
His violin hovered in midair just to the side of River. Music...of course. The most simplest of things was a possibility that could help in this predicament. Slowly, Sherlock picked up the familiar stringed instrument. The piece of music that he had long-ago finished composing, and playing for River was the first thing that came to mind. The Consulting Detective thought of something very wonderful and very disheartening at the same time. This would be the first time she ever hears him play, meaning it will also be the last time, for him in his timeline, to play for her.
Bringing the violin up to his chin, Sherlock did not want to close his eyes. He wanted his wondering grey eyes to be solely focused on his timeline crossing, ballet dancing, beautiful genius. As soon as the first note was played River unfurled herself. Her eyes seeking out the noise from outside of her mind. The musician only hoped that this was reaching deep inside the broken young women. It needed to, or else he would have no idea of how to handle loosing his River while she fell deep.
"Play a game. When notes of music stops must be still as statue," River whispered, and somehow Sherlock heard.
Before the dance could begin, The Doctor took note of the brilliance in the two ingenious people standing in front of his wise, young eyes. With the first note played and first move danced he knew he was intruding on something very private and left without a sound.
River gracefully lifted herself from her position and began to dance according to the unknown musician's piece of work. Grey eyes absorbing in his ballerina. He's seen this dance many a time, but the organic making of it was even more breathtaking. Her body just seemed to easily glide from step to step, the only detail of River's mind processing the music and dance is a slight hold of breath. If only there was a way for Sherlock's past self to witness this, he would have fallen for her instantaneously. Just as the music came to an end River froze to the spot. Still as a statue. As did the man in the room. No one dared to move.
That was until Sherlock could not keep to himself anymore. Dropping his beloved violin, not caring that there was no crash, his long legs carried him to River in a rushed pace. The ballerina had straightened her posture when the only other person in the room spoke. The tall man brought River's body in very close to his, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "I know of a game that you will perfect."
"Let us play the game." River's voice was childlike with curiosity.
"This game is about hide and seek, only much more better. I am the hider and you are the seeker. You must find me where ever we end up."
"I am a very good finder. Can't trick the best at any game."
"However, in order to win the game not only must you find me, you must be able to say a little phrase."
"Which would be?"
"First of many for you." Sherlock, reluctantly pulled away, locked eyes with River as he gave the answer. A simple phrase that turned his entire world upside down and right side up.
"Shall I close my eyes and begin counting?" River's long hair fell over her shoulder as she tilted her head.
Nodding his head, he sensed the room starting to change. It was forcing him out. The door slammed shut in his face, as the last thing he could see was River squeezing her eyes tight and mouth counting down numbers. His time with River was not enough. It was never enough. Anger was a flame growing rapidly inside of him. Marching through the maze of a place, the Consulting Detective found his way to what he called the control room. "Doctor, you tell me what in blazes was that?"
"She shut you out. My, my Sexy getting rude are we. Let me explain, when she is reconfiguring the room no one besides River can be in there, after all it is entitled River's Room." The Doctor seemed to be talking more to the strange control centre instead of Sherlock. "Unfortunately, she's right, I need to take River back before I alter the course of actions that need to take place. Such as her brother's rescue and getting to the crew of Serenity."
"No, I won't stand idly by and let you take her back to the God-awful place!"
The Doctor shook his head, "I am sorry Sherlock, but this is something that has to happen. No matter how much you don't wish it too."
"You clearly don't understand."
"I understand more than most people, even though I may not be human, I know what love feels like! I also know that the only reason you don't want me to take her back there is because you've never once said those word to her and now you wished that every moment you had together it was showing her and telling her how much you love her," The Doctor finished his rant by pulling the lever and sending the TARDIS into the time vortex.
Sherlock stood silent for a brief time. Only watched as the Doctor swung around his controls, pressing buttons and pulling switches. Spinning quickly the dark haired man made the long trek back to River's room. Once in eye sight he noticed the glow from earlier was gone. Cautiously, Sherlock approached the door, lifted his fist to knock when it was swung open. A tiny hand reached out, grabbed him from the front of his shirt and pulled him into the room forcefully.
The room now had walls and a floor. It also had a great stage in front of him.
"This dancer knew you would come back to play some more," River handed Sherlock his violin. "She wishes to hear more pieces of work from those fingers and strings. The girl wishes to dance to his music. The dancer wishes to be with her musician."
Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, the musician took hold of his violin and let his River lead the way to the stage. Up on the stage he turned his back to the dozen of empty seats. This time he allowed himself to embrace the music he was about to play. No matter the song or rhythm of the music River's body was able to enhance every note played. Soon enough this particular room in the TARDIS started to glow once more. However, the music nor the dancing stopped. Not until the door was opened and the Doctor made his presence known.
"We've arrived." The only sombre thing he said, looking guiltily at River's dancing form.
Putting down his violin, as it dissolved into the golden lights, Sherlock took a hold of River's hand once she stopped dancing. Her voice sent shutters up his spine. "Time to play the game."
"Yes, my dear River time to play the game," Sherlock said leading her out of the room by the small of her back.
Tilting her head up, Sherlock's lips grazed the side of her mouth. "First of many for you."
She smiled a secret smile, knowing that it was her turn to be 'it'. Sherlock, who was the seeker now became the hider. "When will be the right time to seek you out? How will I know?"
"Once I leave start looking for me right away, don't stop until you've found me. No matter who says otherwise, try to look for me my sweet River." Sherlock kept both hands on her, not wanting to let her go to the those monsters. "I do promise you something, if you manage to find me there is a prize at the end." His grey eyes had a far off look. Remembering he did make her a promise just after he gave her that ring. A mental promise to himself that he was aware she over heard, but did not pester him about. His one promise that he still wasn't able to complete, not until this moment.
The TARDIS landed and the Doctor escorted them to the door. "I hope to see you again River, in fact I know I will." He finally smiled, even if it was a tight lipped smile. He grabbed her and pulled her in for a tight hug, "I will miss you two geniuses, but until we meet again." Shaking Sherlock's hand, giving them a mock salute as the Time-lord turned his back and took off with his oldest friend and companion.
River and Sherlock stood just down the hall from River's imprisonment, the supposed sleeping quarters; however, he knew from what River told him is that no one sleeps because their minds are always active. No one was as successful as River with the 'treatments', most died and their screams still echo in this horrid place. She began trembling even in his arms. "Don't make me go back," she all but whispered into the empty corridor.
"I-" his voice was trapped, no words came out. Instead he started choking, his tall legs crumbled beneath him as he fell. A siren went off somewhere and all Sherlock tried to focus on was River's tear filled panicking eyes. Men swarmed the area, ripping them apart. They tried to drag their young prodigy down to her room, but something flicked inside of her. The weapon they were hoping to create finally was complete. She punched, kicked and flung the men around like fleas. Every move precise and exact never missing a beat, just as if River was dancing her body flowed with ease.
"My God," one man gasped out loud, and Sherlock recognized him. The filth who laid his hands on his River. Sherlock over came the choking once he figured out that River destroyed the tool they were using to cut off his breathing. Standing to his full height, Sherlock Holmes was a very intimidating man.
"Beautiful isn't she?" He growled low in his throat watched the scum, who called himself a doctor.
"Extraordinary, actually. It was all due to my work with her," the man's name escaped Sherlock at the moment because he always seemed to replace his name with Deadman. If he didn't know any better he would have bet this man had the same genetic makeup as Moriarty.
Snarling, Sherlock took a gun from one of the fallen men. "You don't even know how extraordinary she is or will be. Especially when is comes to me." Pointing the gun at Deadman, "the only reason why I don't kill you now is because I know what will happen if you get taken out of the picture too soon. I know what will be your downfall and I know that I wish I could have been the one to kill you." He shifted the gun from the doctor's terrified face to his knee caps. "Doesn't mean I won't harm a body part or two." Firing four bullets in the blink of an eye. The gun's old fashioned bullets penetrated through one of this, nightmare of a doctor's knees, as two other bullets pierced through his upper thigh very close to his reproductive organs. Unexpectedly, when Sherlock looked down, he saw that he was also bleeding.
Blood began to pool onto his entire front where he felt three bullet wounds. "R-river," Sherlock managed to get out before collapsing.
"NO!" Sherlock heard throughout his skull, and with the slow blink of his eyes, his young women was holding onto him. "We have to still play! Get up! You can't leave, it's against the rules." Tears fell onto his face. "Come back to me, you only just found me so now you can't leave! You can't! You can't!" She shouted down at him, her small hands not large enough to put pressure onto his wounds.
"Come find me, but only if they don't get me." The musician was able to choke out.
Shaking her head, Sherlock felt her hair surround him and her breath on his faace. "Last one before you go." River's soft, young lips touched Sherlock's in the sweetest, and lightest kisses they've shared across both of their timelines. "The dancer will find her musician. The weapon knows revenge is near. The girl promises that they will not do any bad to her knight." She continued to cry and he felt those tears until his last shallow breath was taken.
"I love you," Sherlock's last breath was to say the one thing he should have said from the beginning, the promise he made was accomplished.
A/N: I want to give everyone a huge thank you to every person who has read my trilogy! Knowing people are curious enough to read it fills me with glee. I feel very accomplished for finishing these three parts and I do wish to continue with this Sherlock/River pairing because they are just too amazing for words (is it weird that I made myself fall in love with this couple?). Please continue to read, and if you get the time tell me what you thought of my work. Thank you again, so very much.