Somewhere in outer space, 3rd March 12'167
"Oh you'll love Androzani Major. Much nicer than Clom, more peaceful, and the food is much better. They also don't have great big poisonous flower beds like on Pyrovilia" The Doctor explained fanatically while dashing around the control board, pushing buttons, pulling levers and occasionally turning on the 'HOT' and 'COLD' taps.
"Doctor!" John interrupted. The Doctor stood still, glancing at his companion.
"Yes, John?"
"As much as I like your enthusiasm of... well everything, I'd like to make a request for where we go to next."
"Oh, well... Sure! Where do you want to go?" The Doctor said a little surprised by that. John had always just gone along with where ever he took him. He just needed a distraction from...
Anyways, he then got excited about what John had thought of going to. He hoped it wasn't boring, but just this once that wasn't his call.
John took a deep breath "I'm sure you know the reason why I'm here." Both of them pursed their lips while remembering their first meeting:
He adjusted the rope hanging from the wall. Soon this would be over; soon he'd be with Sherlock. John was just about to place it around his neck when a loud wheezing noise filled the room and a blue box appeared in the middle of 221B. John jolted back, and a tall, dark haired man wearing a silly looking bow tie jumped out. "What exactly are you doing, John?" he asked.
After a short pause John continued. " Well... Something's been nagging me since the day he left; There was a small building in the way. I saw him jump but didn't see him hit the ground..."
The Doctor seemed to become a little nervous at that.
"... I know you said his death is a fixed point in time, not to be tampered with, I accept that. But I guess I just want to go back and see him in his last moment."
"Um... John, there's a little problem. You can't go back on your own time line." That wasn't the actual problem, but the Doctor chose not to mention the other one.
"I promise that I won't let me see myself or cause any trouble. Please, Doctor. Just let me do this one thing."
By the look that John was giving him, even the Doctor couldn't deny his wish. He'd have to find out sooner or later anyways...
"Fine."
"Thank you, Doctor."
"My pleasure, doctor."
London, 15th November 2015
With quick paces Sherlock walked along the grey streets of London. It was colder than usual for this time of year, or was it not? Maybe he'd deleted that over time, but he wasn't quite sure. The icy wind blew against his face, and he put his hands in his pocket since he'd lost his gloves a couple months back and hadn't found the time to buy new ones.
He couldn't quite believe that he was finally coming home. Back in Baker Street, back in 221B, back with John... The question was whether John would forgive him or not, but first of all he needed to get there. There were only a couple more blocks until he'd be standing in front of that all too familiar black door.
London, 16th June 2012
The TARDIS finally stopped buzzing about. They'd landed. The Doctor checked the screens; For once it was the correct date.
"We're here." he mumbled, unsure about this whole situation.
John took a deep breath and slowly walked over to the TARDIS doors. He reached for the doorknob and tightly held onto it.
"You do it." John said. The Doctor nodded and walked up next to him. John let go of the door and stepped back. The Doctor opened the door and gave John space to step through first. He hesitated but then took a deep breath and walked through the door. The Doctor quickly followed.
Before even wanting to be reminded about this horrible day, he turned around and stared at the now shut TARDIS, remembering the first time he'd seen it.
He stared at the man who was standing in the open door of the big blue box in his living room.
"What the-? How did you get in here?"
"I asked first."
"I... uh... I'm joining my friend."
"Wow, what century am I in, in which suicide is a way to go to parties?" There was a short pause.
"Did you just ask me in which century we're in?"
"Yes, I did. I tend to ask that quite a lot actually, so get used to it."
"What? Why would I have to get used to you?"
"Because you're coming with me." And with that he grabbed John's arm and pulled him into the police box.
The Doctor placed a hand on John's shoulder and turned him around so he could see what was going on. Before he could place were he was he heard a gunshot. John automatically looked in the direction it came from and recognized where he was: Right were he wanted to be.
He didn't know what the gunshot was, but he found himself staring at the roof of the hospital were Sherlock was standing. It was funny; it wasn't as he'd imagined it:
Sherlock was nervously looking down at something John couldn't see, and he seemed well… scared. Then he suddenly calmed down as if he just came to some conclusion. But he still looked deeply upset. Sherlock then turned around, stepped onto the ledge of the roof and reached for his phone, while a cab arrived in front of St. Bart's.
Oh, John knew this part.
Although Sherlock was too far away to understand, John could clearly hear every word he was saying in his head. John closed his eyes for a moment, and repeated his own replies. He looked back at the Doctor who seemed to become more nervous by the minute.
"That's what people do, don't they? Leave a note."
"Leave a note when?"
"Goodbye, John."
John watched as Sherlock threw his phone away and lifted his arms up. For just one second before Sherlock took his last breath, John rejoiced to the joy that for another tiny moment, his best friend was alive. Sherlock took his last breath and John held his breath as well. He took one step forward, and it was all over.
Except it wasn't over.
London, 15th November 2015
He was so close, but yet so far. Sherlock tightly grasped the doorknob between his hands, unable to find the courage to open it. He just stood there in the cold London breeze, his fingers starting to go numb already. After some time –was it an hour? A minute? – he finally managed to turn it side ways and push himself inside. Cautiously he walked up the steps, anxious to finally see John again.
London, 16th June 2012
Instead of hitting the cold pavement, instantly breaking his skull and neck, Sherlock landed on a garbage truck. A garbage truck, John hadn't noticed before because of the building.
He badly hit his head, but the way he landed made survival possible... No. No, this wasn't happening. He probably just rolled off the truck.
His head started badly bleeding and just when John's eyes flashed over to himself getting hit by a bike, he had to admit to himself that all of this timing was too perfect. He looked back to Sherlock who just as John was getting up, looked up (this was when John started cursing in his mind) and quickly crawled down the truck, putting himself into the position John remembered him in.
Sometimes it's hard to keep a promise, very hard, agonizingly hard. The Doctor could see John's fists tightening, so he took him by the shoulders and pulled him back into the TARDIS. But John had no intention in running to Sherlock, kicking and screaming (even though that was what he most felt like doing at the moment) because he knew exactly what would happen if he were to interfere with his own time line. And that wouldn't help this situation either.
John closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them he was surprised to see the much warmer ambiance of the TARDIS' control room. To try and forget what he'd just seen he closed his eyes and tried to picture the first time he'd set foot in here.
"Quit pulling at me!" John yelled but he forgot what else he was going to say, the moment he saw the inside of the blue police box.
"But… What the hell?"
"Ooh! That's a new one. I've got to write all of these down and keep count of which one's have been used most often."
"What?"
"I'm talking about the different reactions to this room. It seems that you've noticed that the TARDIS is bigger on the inside."
"Ha ha. This is probably some trick." He started looking around the room searching for a mirror or something.
"Yes, it's the best trick ever! Check this out!" He grinned and pulled a lever. The whole thing started making an awful amount of noise and they zoomed off.
But the memory didn't last because soon enough he was reminded by what he'd just seen.
John needed something to get his anger out, quickly. The control pad seemed like a good go. He ran over to it and kicked as hard as he could, not feeling the pain because most of the anger was still there.
The Doctor ran over to him and held him by the shoulders. "John! Calm down, will you?"
"What? I don't want to calm down!" He said trying to tug himself free.
"Look, I know this is difficult for you, but-"
"You bet it is! Can you please bring me somewhere where I can punch him in the face as many times as I want?"
"No, I can't."
John became even angrier when he came to sudden realization.
"You knew all along, didn't you? You knew, and you didn't tell me! Why did you do that?!"
"John, how about you look on the bright side of this."
"Like what?!"
"Well… for example, he's alive!" The Doctor said while lifting his arms up as if this were a surprise party.
"Oh sure, that's good. I'm happy he's alive…" John said more calmly while turning around and staring at the control panel. "… I'm just unhappy he was alive all this time."
The Doctor took a step towards him and put an arm around his shoulder.
"I know you're upset… but he did this for you."
"Ha! That's a good one, Doctor. See, jumping off a building sounds perfectly like Sherlock, him faking his death even sounds like Sherlock. But him doing all of this for someone other than himself, now there I don't believe you."
The Doctor bit his lip. "Well if you don't…" he walked over to the screen hanging over the control panel and switched it on. "It would've been better if Sherlock could explain himself in person but I'll just show you what else happened on that roof instead."
"How are you going to do that?" John asked, but mostly intrigued as to what exactly had happened up there.
"Well, we're materialized right next to it."
"And no one will notice?"
"Nope. Set it to transparent."
"Fine then."
John stepped forward to the small screen. He squinted to see properly: Moriarty and Sherlock were standing on the rooftop.
London, 15th November 2015
Sherlock hurried to the door of the living room, this time only quickly catching his breath and then letting it swing open. "John!" he screamed at his flat mate standing in the middle of the room. John turned around not seeming remotely surprised.
The TARDIS, 16th June 2012
"I knew you'd fall for it." Moriarty said. "That's your weakness – you always want everything to be clever. Now, shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you chose a tall building – nice way to do it."
"Do it? Do – do what?" Sherlock asked a little nervously, but suddenly he seemed to realize what was going on.
"Yes, of course. My suicide."
" 'Genius detective proved to be a fraud'. I read it in the paper, so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairytales." They both looked over the edge.
"And pretty Grimm ones too."
"I can still prove that you created an entirely false identity."
Hearing that made John sigh. It pleased him that after all, he had been right all along.
"Oh, just kill yourself. It's a lot less effort."
Sherlock turned away from him and started pacing up and down the roof.
"Go on. For me. Pleeeeeease?"
Suddenly Sherlock took him by the collar and pulled Moriarty over the edge, clearly angry.
"You're insane."
"You're just getting that now?"
Sherlock shoved him further back, still not letting go. Moriarty let out an odd whoop and waved his arms up to stay in balance.
"Okay, let me give you a little extra incentive." He paused in that moment.
"Your friends will die if you don't."
Sherlock began to actually look scared. "John."
John's heart made a small jump in that moment.
"Not just John. Everyone." He whispered.
"Mrs. Hudson."
"Everyone." He said grinning.
"Lestrade."
"Three bullets; three gunmen; three victims. There's no stopping them now."
Sherlock pulled Moriarty away from the ledge and he stared up at Sherlock.
"Unless my people see you jump."
Sherlock looked completely lost.
"You can have me arrested; you can torture me; you can do anything you like with me; but nothing's gonna prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only three friends in the world will die. Unless ..."
"Unless I kill myself – complete your story."
John sighed and turned away from the screen. He stared into space in silence. The Doctor leaned on the control panel; arms crossed and also not speaking. John's eyes flashed over to the door and he was reminded of the first time he'd opened it.
After the TARDIS stopped wobbling about John made his way to the door.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm leaving whatever the hell this place is." He started walking towards the door which that obviously disturbed man pulled him through.
Couldn't anyone commit suicide in peace?
"Um, John, you might want to-" John opened the door and almost fell out "Oh Jesus…" "…Not lean out too far."
"What the…?"
The Doctor ran over next to him.
"Yes, I know we're in space."
"No, it can't be…"
"Course it can. You just need to open your mind to it."
"So, assuming all of this is true… Who are you? And what do you need me for?" The man smiled at him in amusement.
"I'm the Doctor, and I'm taking you on the journey of a lifetime." He grinned and ran back to what seemed to be the place were he controlled his craft and started pressing random buttons. "Actually." He said suddenly coming to a stop.
"A journey of countless lifetimes."
After god knows how long, John finally managed to speak.
"Why did he have to stay away for three years?"
The Doctor glanced back at him. "He needed time to take down the web, piece by piece."
John nodded.
"Can we please go find him?"
"Um. There' s a little problem."
"What?"
The Doctor walked over to the screen, and switched it on again, revealing something written but John didn't give it any attention, his eyes still resting on the Time Lord.
The Doctor finally spoke again: "Remember when I told you that Sherlock's death was fixed point in time?"
"Yes?" John wasn't sure where the Doctor was going with this.
"Well I wasn't lying."
John swallowed hardly and looked at the screen:
Sherlock Holmes
Death date:
15/11/2015
Time:
2:19pm
Location:
221B Baker Street,
London
John shook his head frantically, trying to fight his tears.
"No. No, we can just go back and save him."
"I'm afraid not, John."
"Why did you have to give me hope, Doctor? Hope, that maybe everything could go back to normal?"
The Doctor sighed. "You asked me to show you, and I knew you would find out sooner or later anyways."
John looked back at the screen tears starting to run down his face now. "B-but, that's the same date as you took me with you." He thought a little longer.
"In fact, that's like fifteen minutes before you came and got me. But he wasn't in the flat then. I was!"
"He came five minutes after we left."
"Okay… You said there's no such thing as coincidence. So why did you come and get me right before he was going to come, and don't try to claim that that wasn't intentional."
"Actually, it wasn't. I just wanted to get you away before you saw him, protect you from the fact that he was alive and then dead again. I was actually aiming to come and get you several weeks before, but the TARDIS got a bit side tracked. She probably sensed that you were…" he cleared his throat. "About to do what you wanted to do, and brought me there right on time."
John pursed his lips and stayed silent for a while.
"What else do we know about his death?"
"Foreknowledge is dangerous, John."
"You already told me that it was inevitable he was going to die. I think that's a hell of a lot of foreknowledge."
"Fine. We know that Sherlock missed one of the web members and that he shoots in Sherlock's direction from an unknown location at precisely twelve passed two."
"So, that's what kills him." The Doctor looked back at him and nodded.
"Then bring me back to when we came from… So I can at least say my last good byes to him."
"Fine. But you can't let him realize that you know he's going to die. You could create a paradox and rip a hole in the entire space-time continuum."
"Yes, yes. I know." John said rolling his eyes. He smiled at the fact that he'd at the very least get those few minutes with Sherlock back. And he could be there for him when he was dying.
The Doctor hesitantly pulled a lever and the TARDIS started making that by now familiar noise.
221B Baker Street, London, 15th November 2015
Sherlock stood still. He looked around the room. Not just John was here, but there was another man leaning on a blue box.
How the hell did that get there?
There was also a piece of rope hanging from the wall but Sherlock for some reason didn't question it. His eyes flashed over to the place John had been staring at; a digital clock. It said:
14:09 32 15/11/2015
John smiled at him and finally said something. "Hi Sherlock."
"Bu- … What's going on? Aren't you surprised?"
"Oh… yeah I am." He smiled even more and took a couple steps closer to Sherlock. Sherlock closed his eyes expecting one or many punches in the face but instead felt John's arms wrap around him.
"Aren't you mad?" Sherlock asked in surprise and embraced the hug.
"There isn't any time for being mad…" John whispered. "I forgive you, Sherlock."
John decided to stay in that position until it was all over.
Just for a moment his eyes opened and he glanced over Sherlock's shoulder. The clock showed that it was eleven passed two.
One more minute…
The Doctor's words echoed in his head: He shoots in Sherlock's direction from an unknown location at precisely twelve passed two.
He couldn't help but count the seconds with the clock:
47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57.
Just in that moment he looked at the mirror over the arch of the fireplace.
58.
In the reflection he could clearly see someone aiming a rifle from the window of the flat opposite to 221B .
59.
In that last second John suddenly had an idea; a crazy, stupid, idiotic idea. But he was willing to risk all of time and space for his friend.
14:12 00
"To the side!" he shouted and pulled Sherlock to his left. A fraction of a second later a gunshot rang out. Sherlock looked around in shock. How could John have seen that coming?
"But how-"
"No questions now." John said opening the drawer and pulling out his gun.
"John! You know you can't-" the Doctor yelled.
"I have an idea, okay? Just bring Sherlock into the TARDIS!"
The Doctor trusted John and managed to pull Sherlock in due to his astonishment at the sudden turn of events.
John opened the window, pointed his gun at the sniper who was still there and shot. He left the gun in the flat, knowing that the Doctor wouldn't think much of it and hurried into the TARDIS.
"Okay! Hurry and leave this place!"
Once Sherlock's questions about the TARDIS were all answered the Doctor gestured at John to come over.
"I hope you know what you've just done." He said madly.
"Yes, I have a plan, Doctor."
"Oh really?"
"There wasn't an age written on that, right?" The Doctor shook his head.
"So we can just take him with us, not bring him back to the 21st century before it really is his time."
The Doctor sighed.
"Fine, do it. But you can't let him know, and I am making you responsible if the entire universe is ripped apart, understood?"
John nodded. "Understood."
"Thank you, Doctor." He added after a short pause.
The Doctor smiled at him and bounded over to Sherlock.
"Now, Sherlock! Any point in time you ever really wanted to visit?"