"Sherlock."
He was sure he had heard it, John's voice in his head last night. What's more, he had been given instructions. Sherlock had to follow John's voice.
That night, he and his parents packed up and drove. They drove for hundreds and hundreds of miles, because he called.
"Sherlock."
John called him, all the way to the beach. He didn't know what to expect. Would John be there to take him home from this nightmare?
"Once the breach collapses, that's it. You'll never be able to see her again. Your own mother!"
Sherlock took a deep breath. He knew he had to leave his mother in the other world. He had to stay with John.
"I made my choice a long time ago, John. I am never going to leave you. Besides, you need my help."
John sighed.
"I know I'll need your help. Go set all those coordinates to 6. And hurry up."
Sherlock raised his eyebrows, waiting for something.
John smirked.
"That's an order, corporal."
"Sherlock."
The tall man smiled sadly as John's voice shocked him back to reality. Why did it all have to happen? His normally logical mind was overflowing with emotions and was in no state to think. But he could remember.
"We've got Cybermen on the way up."
A silent sigh from both. Sherlock almost found himself praying to get out alive-both of them.
"How many floors down?"
"Just one."
Sherlock fought back persistent tears. The pain of losing John was like a wound, he couldn't touch it or pain would ensue. Maybe there was still hope. The road went on before him , and John's never-relenting voice invaded his mind again.
"Sherlock."
"Levers operational."
The computer's droning voice interrupted the pair.
"That's more like it. Bit of a smile, the old team."
Sherlock scowled, and John grinned.
John handed Sherlock a Magnaclamp.
"Press the red button."
"Sherlock."
He smiled. John just demanded his attention!
He wondered why John had to call him to wherever he was. He had the TARDIS, couldn't he come to Sherlock?
Now he was worried.
Why couldn't John come to him?
"When it starts, just hold on tight. It won't be so bad for us, but the Daleks and Cybermen are steeped in void stuff."
Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"I know, I was the one who figured this out!"
"Let's do it."
The two looked at each other for a brief second, then push the levers up and grab the Magnaclamps.
"Online."
As the computer said this, the breach lit up and Daleks began to fly through the windows, screaming in anger-or fear?
"Emergencyyyy!"
"The breach is open! Into the void!"
"We're here."
Sherlock knew it. John's voice had stopped.
He opened the car door and stepped out.
Nothing.
Sherlock's lever had started to move.
"Offline."
He barely heard it over the scream of the Daleks and the pure noise of the void.
"I have to get it upright!"
Sherlock's voice sounded over the din. He let one hand release the Magnaclamp and reach for the lever.
"Hold on!"
He let go of the Magnaclamp and his hand found the lever. Finally he pushed it back up, and a sick feeling gripped him.
"Online and locked."
"Sherlock! Hold on!"
John stretched out a hand to him. He was barely safe, the void threatening to suck him in.
"Hold on!"
Sherlock's fingers began to slip. He knew it was coming, his mind had been working perfectly. His arms burned, desperate to stay with John.
Yet suddenly, he realized his hand no longer held the lever. He was flying toward the void, doomed to what some called Hell, his last look at the real world John's terrified face.
But he did not go into the void. Someone caught him.
Every part of him shook as he walked along the beach. Why wasn't John here? Was it all just a dream?
No.
He waited for John, he knew he would come.
And then he did.
The ghostly figure of John stood in front of him.
At first Sherlock was grateful to whoever had saved him. But he realized he was no longer with John, and looked up angrily at his rescuer.
"Sherlock..."
His mother.
She had intended something good, and someday he would thank her. Right now, though, he only cared about John.
"Take me back!"
He was angry, so mad that he could lose John after all they'd been through.
His John.
"Take me back!"
He shouted again, but this time his voice was filled with sadness.
He pounded the wall hopelessly.
His mother looked at him sadly. She removed the yellow teleport button from her neck.
"It's not working. He did it, he closed the breach."
Sherlock ignored her, still abusing the wall angrily.
A sob escaped his lips.
"Where are you?"
He spoke quietly to John, because he was actually confused. The ghost before him was not John. He should be here, physically.
"Inside the TARDIS. There's one tiny little gap in the universe left, just about to close. It takes a lot of power to send this projection. I'm in orbit around a supernova. I'm burning up a sun just to say goodbye."
As Sherlock pressed his curly head to the wall, he felt a moment of comfort. Perhaps John was in the parallel universe, doing the same thing. Maybe their tears touched the walls at the same time, the same wall comforting broken lovers.
The moment did not last as long as he hoped, and he felt the presence of John move away. He waited a moment to wipe the tears from his eyes and went to his family.
"You look like a ghost."
"Hold on."
The apparent spirit of John pointed his sonic screwdriver at something Sherlock couldn't see in the TARDIS. The shorter man came to life in front of him.
Sherlock moved forward, lifting an arm to touch John again, to feel the familiar face.
"Can I...?"
John shook his head sadly.
"I'm still just an image. No touch."
"Can't you come through properly?"
"The whole thing would fracture. Two universes would collapse."
"So?"
John smiled a bit at this.
"Where are we? Where did the gap come out?"
"We're in Norway."
"Norway. Right."
Both paused, unsure. Maybe they were just savoring the moment of partial togetherness.
"How long do we have?"
The question had been on Sherlock's mind from the start, along with many others.
John looked at something in the TARDIS.
"About two minutes."
Sherlock sighed.
"I can't think of anything to say."
"You've still got your family. Mycroft, your mom, your dad."
Sherlock smiled sadly.
"I don't have you, though."
John spoke, trying to keep them talking.
"What about you? What are you up to now?"
"I'm working as a consulting detective, and I'm still the only one."
He knew he had to ask.
"John...am I ever going to see you again?"
The shorter man's face filled with pain as he spoke.
"You can't."
Sherlock hated seeing him like that.
"What're you going to do?"
"Oh, I've got the TARDIS. Same old life, last of the Time Lords."
"On your own?"
John didn't respond. Sherlock hated goodbyes, but time was wearing out. He felt afraid telling John this, because he thought it would hurt him more.
"I...I love you."
A smile. That was surprising.
"Quite right, too."
John blinked. He knew he had to tell Sherlock, but telling him meant letting go.
"And, I suppose, if it's my last chance to say it..."
Sherlock desperately awaited the words. He needed them.
"Sherlock Holmes-"
John vanished.
"No!"
He let all his anger and fear and sadness loose, and let his mother to wrap him in a hug, and let his world fall apart.
