I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we'll ever have, and I'm in love with you.
-John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
Moriarty's corpse grew cold as his face lost color by Sherlock's feet. As he stood on the rooftop, over come with desperation, he accepted what he had to do. In his pocket was his mobile. After searching through his contacts, he found the number he was looking for.
"Sherlock Holmes," answered the other line after only a few rings.
Sherlock could hear the man smiling from the tone of his voice.
"Doctor," Sherlock replied, "I need your help. I can't explain here. Now."
"I'm on my way," the Doctor informed him, with a more serious and concerned tone.
Within the second, a strange phone booth faded onto the roof, a couple yards away from the detective. It was a brilliant shade of blue and three words, 'POLICE CALL BOX,' were stated on the top of it.
A tall, lanky man stepped out of the TARDIS. He had a goofy smile and wore suspenders and a bow tie. Sherlock approached him and shook the hand of his old friend. Afterwards, the Doctor gestured, welcoming Sherlock into the time machine.
Sherlock studied the inside of the TARDIS. It was completely redesigned. It no longer had the old coral design it previously had. The TARDIS looked different on the inside, and the Doctor looked different on the outside.
"You've regenerated since the last time I saw you," commented Sherlock.
The Doctor shrugged, "Only once. But it's been awhile."
Sherlock nodded as he continued taking in the new surroundings.
"Not traveling with any one?" Sherlock asked, noticing there wasn't anybody on the ship but the two of them.
"Their names are Amy and Rory," the Doctor explained, as he started getting his ship to take off. The familiar sound of the breaks of the TARDIS filled the air. They could have been anywhere in time or space right now. "Married couple. I kind of let them think I was dead. So I'm alone right now."
Sherlock chuckled. "Too much in common."
The Doctor stepped away from the several buttons, levers, and controllers, and faced his old friend. "What happened, Sherlock?"
That's when Sherlock explained what happened. He told the Time Lord the whole story of Moriarty, the killings, the game, and the assassins. As he explained, John was left in the twentieth in May in 2012.
Once Sherlock had finished, the Doctor concluded, "You're going to have to fake your death."
"Yes," Sherlock voice cracked. "And I'm asking you for help."
The Doctor smiled. "I have just the thing. It's called the Flesh. But then we'll still have to deal with the assassins."
Sherlock smiled back. "Thank you. So, what's the Flesh?"
"It's a living substance that will be created by man in the twenty-second century. It's considered 'the government's worst-kept secret.' They use it to close workers for dangerous labor."
"Do these clones react to physical injury the same as humans?"
"Yours will," reassured the Doctor, as he pulled out his Sonic Screwdriver. He pressed a button on the side, showing Sherlock its bright green light, explaining that the screwdriver would be able to adjust the clone.
Sherlock grinned and started watching the Type 40 beep and bloop. "It's been far too long, Doctor."
"And even longer for me."
The friends laughed a bit.
"I've missed you," admitted the Doctor.
"I've missed you," returned Sherlock.
After a moment of the two clever men beaming at each other, Sherlock broke the silence. "I suspect this whole adventure will take quite awhile."
"I suspect so. I'll get us to 221B Baker Street while you pick out a new bedroom."
Sherlock nodded and walked off into one of the corridors. He passed several bedrooms. Many were obviously designed for children. Some were designed for lovers. Some were designed for young women, young men, old women, and old men. The countless bedrooms reflected the many personalities of the several companions that had traveled with the Doctor over the hundreds of years.
It didn't take long for Sherlock to find a bedroom that resembled his in every single way. He could've sworn he was at Baker Street if he hadn't known any better. Every crack in the wall, every creek in the floor, every detail was exact. Every detail, except for the soothing hum of the TARDIS that quietly bounced of every wall.
It wasn't until Sherlock sat on the bed that he realized there was another difference. The psychic ship had added something to the room that wasn't in his flat. On a nightstand by his bed was a single picture frame. In it was the copy of a group photo of the Scotland Yard employees. This copy however, had been cropped and blown up, so it was just of Sherlock and John.
Sherlock took the picture frame in his hands. He held it tightly and felt himself shaking. I'm coming, Sherlock silently told John. I'm coming for you.
Sherlock had found himself in a trance, worrying about all of the things that were to come. John would be alone and hurt. Sherlock was already alone and hurt. Everyday he'd have to wake up, knowing John wasn't in the same building. He'd be on some other planet in some other time.
Knowing the Doctor, Sherlock was sure that they'd be going on some life-risking adventure soon enough. When Sherlock used to travel with the Doctor, this thought wasn't nearly as worrying. The Doctor, the only think Sherlock had to live for, risked his life every single day. This made it easier for Sherlock to run off into the unknown and recklessly run off with his Doctor and his TARDIS.
It was a peak of the future that made Sherlock leave. It was of his future. Sherlock and the Doctor had returned to England once again. They had passed by a park by 221B. A person that Sherlock didn't recognize was in the arms of his future self there. They were both grinning from ear to ear, both with tear-filled eyes. Sherlock couldn't make out many words between their sobs, but he could've have sworn he heard confessions of love.
That's when he realized he had more to live for, and he had to take care of himself. However, he couldn't keep himself from not taking any risk. Even on Earth, he continued to solve mysteries, save lives, and get into trouble. At least he was home, though.
It all felt very certain and impulsive at the time. The Doctor didn't want him to leave, but took him home without argument. The Doctor had warned him that time could be rewritten. Sherlock originally ignored it. Time passed by. The mysterious person of Sherlock's future still hadn't shown up. The statement the Doctor told him, haunted him everyday. At times, he often regretted ignoring the Doctor. He could never bring himself to leave Earth again, though. He still held on to the fading memory.
He never got in contact with the Doctor until now. On occasion he'd hear a sound that might sound like the TARDIS, or catch a glimpse of blue in the corner of his eye, but he'd never turn around and run for it. He was meant to be on Earth, working for Scotland Yard.
The Doctor knocked on Sherlock's door. There was no response. He knocked again.
"Doctor." Sherlock broke out of his trance. "Sorry." He opened the door for the Doctor.
"221B Baker Street. About an hour before I pick you up. You and John are at St. Barb's lab, but Mrs. Hudson is in the building, so we'll have to be quiet so she doesn't notice us."
Sherlock nodded and followed the Doctor out of the TARDIS. Sherlock didn't receive clothes, knowing there was an extension collect of clothing back in the TARDIS. The Doctor watched as Sherlock began to gather some nicotine patches and other supplies. He made sure he didn't take enough for John to notice.
John. Dr. John Watson. The Doctor sat in one of the chairs in the flat's living room. He looked at his fingers and thought about when Sherlock had first left. When Sherlock had seen himself in the arms of another. The Doctor was one of the few people who could read Sherlock like a book. Probably because he technically wasn't a person. Nevertheless, the Doctor could tell by the twinkle in Sherlock's eyes when he said John's name, that John was the mysterious person of Sherlock's future.
"Alright," started Sherlock. "Look's like that's it. Bye-bye, Earth."
He turned to the Doctor, and the two of them returned to the ship.