Time to bring in the boys of 221B and of course our favorite Time Lord! The support I have gotten from this has absolutely blown me away and I thank all you guys for reading. Enjoy!
Somewhere in London
Standing rigidly in a narrow hallway, John Watson inhaled a shuddering breath. He had been holding his breath for nearly a minute, feeling a numbing guilt tighten across his chest. It couldn't have been him; he had only batted his eyes for a moment, less than a second.
"Aha! I think I found it," a cheery voice called out far behind John. "Someone unplugged the TARDIS's fueling engine to plug in a…coffee machine!" He paused, rattling something heavy. "Who would plug in the coffee, I hate coffee. In any case, this seems to solve most our problems…" He continued to bumble on, but he was out of earshot for the army doctor.
"John," Sherlock murmured next to John, his shoulder brushing him just barely. "John, is she-?"
So it had to be him. Sherlock's near mechanical instincts wouldn't have let his eyes falter for a moment, never letting the stone angels out of his sight. The burden of John's mistake made his jaw clench and his eyes burn fiercely. "I didn't mean to, Sherlock," he whispered between gritted teeth. "I didn't mean to-"
"But she's gone? Amy was touched by one of the angels." Knowing him so long, John could just barely hear the nervous tremor in his friend's voice.
John hesitated to answer, a knot in his throat. "Yes. Amy's gone."
Sherlock released a heavy breath through his nose, silent. John wondered if he had let his friend down, hadn't maintained the standard he had always set for himself around the consulting detective. If Sherlock was disappointed with him, he couldn't even imagine the Doctor's reaction to him would be. He had lost Amy Pond, only by blinking an eye at three of the most dangerous beings he had ever encountered.
"Sherlock! John!" the Doctor called out to them suddenly. "Do you want any of this, it's," he stopped to take a whiff of the coffee pot, "Hazelnut! Ugh, disgusting."
"We're alright," Sherlock answered. "John, I need to blink." He nodded, widening his eyes just barely at the toothy faces of the weeping angels. John's chest loosened slightly; if Sherlock could still trust him to watch the angels for him maybe he hadn't disappointed his friend. Sherlock raised his gloved hands to his eyes, rubbing them. "John, we'll find her. She can't be far." Buried deep within Sherlock's guarantee, John could hear a sort of comforting assurance. Still, John couldn't retain that same sort of optimism.
"The Doctor said all of time and space. How is that not far?" John whispered back, the guilt in his chest tightening again like the pulling of shoelaces on an ill-fitting shoe.
"John, it was a mistake," Sherlock chided him seriously. "We will find Amy again."
He blew a weighty breath from his lips. "Okay, okay." John readied himself for the Time Lord's anger, grasping onto the hope that Amy Pond wouldn't be out of reach for the three of them. "I have to tell him."
Sherlock straightened, his gaze raised against the angels once again. Out of the corner of John's eye he could see Sherlock nod briefly. "Doctor," Sherlock said in a raised voice, solemn but smoothly, "Doctor you should come here. It's…" Sherlock didn't finish his sentence, suddenly afraid of the Doctor's wrath as well.
"Give me two seconds. I've got to plug the fueling engine back in and get rid of this horrible brewed thing-"
"Doctor this is a bit more urgent than the coffee," John said crackily, his eyes never wavering from the angels in front of him, however they burned.
Behind them was a loud clanking then the Doctor's voice from the TARDIS quietly. "What is it?" He stuck his neck out of the TARDIS's open doors to take a look around. "Looks like you're holding the fort pretty well, I don't see…wait." The Doctor set down the heavy cords he had been carrying within the TARDIS to take a step next to the detectives. "That angel moved." The Doctor pointed at the closest angel. Like the rest of the three, its face was gnarled into a vicious expression, but it held a single finger out in the air as if pointing to one of the many mildew spots on the ceiling.
The Doctor spun around, his adventurous demeanor submitting to a worried confusion. "Amy?" he called out. He ducked high and low between the angels and down the halls, the seconds passing slowly for John and Sherlock. Finally, the Doctor stopped to look at them for an answer. "Where is she?" he asked innocently, the coffee pot still in one hand.
"Amy's gone," John said as coolly as he could manage, knowing that he had uttered a pair of very dire words.
"What? She was…" The Doctor stood there for a moment, letting the words seep in, a brokenness clouding his face. "The angels they…No!" The coffee pot in his hand, the Doctor threw the hazelnut coffee past the angels. The glass pot splintered against the wall, pieces flying across the narrow hallway with the hot coffee. "I told you to not. Blink. Not for anything, not if the universe was crashing around you and now…now…" The Doctor was at a loss for words, images of Amy's lost and terrified face screaming in his head, hearing her calling for him. Frightened and alone Amy Pond. His teeth grinded angrily, blinking back tears. "She can't be!"
"It was me, Doctor," Sherlock said in a rush. "I blinked for just a moment and she was-"
The Doctor stormed up to Sherlock and grabbed him roughly by the front of his overcoat. Sherlock's gaze turned away from the angels, looking into the scalding rage of the Time Lord's eyes. "Do you have any idea," the Doctor hissed viciously, shaking him, "what you have made me lose." What he had said to Sherlock was not a question, but more of a promise of the vengeance the last Time Lord was willing to inflict on him. "Do you even realize how sorry a mistake you have made, Mr. Holmes?"
"We can find her," Sherlock argued, his voice shaking. "I didn't do it on purpose Doctor, but we can find her again. We have to."
"Do you really think that will bring her back?" he shook him madly, his breath heavy on Sherlock's face, their noses nearly touching. "She's lost in all of time and space and you are impossible enough to think we can find one, little, lonely…" The Doctor's voice faltered, his hot face breaking with emotion. The tears in his eyes brimmed on the edge of his lashes. "Amelia Pond." His white fists let go of Sherlock's coat front, hanging defeated at his sides. "Oh, Amy."
John had been standing still during the Doctor's explosion, steadily watching the angels with a silent fear the Doctor would find that it was actually him that had caused Amy's disappearance. Sherlock had surprised him beyond belief, laying his head on the chopping block for what? Even John couldn't figure Sherlock out that deep enough. Next to him Sherlock was leaning against the wall taking deep breaths and wiping his face as the Doctor stepped away. They stood there, only breathing in the stunned silence.
"It's alright, John," Sherlock said quietly after a long stretch. "I'll watch the angels."
John's eyes burned just as much blinking them as keeping them open, making him grimace. He let go a long withdrawn breath, realizing he had been holding his breath the whole time the Doctor was yelling. With squinted eyes, John looked over to the Doctor's still figure, his back to them. His shoulders were shuddering, but John couldn't tell if he was crying. Just as John was about to reach for the Doctor's shoulder he had turned around, his eyes red-rimmed but lit with a rawly set determination.
John swallowed, bringing his hand back to his side as the Doctor pushed past him and to the angel that had touched Amy. "Doctor, I-"
"Shut up," the Doctor replied bitterly, pulling his sonic screwdriver from an inside pocket. John looked over to Sherlock, but realized he couldn't have returned a glance back. He pursed his lips and looked down at the floor, blinking a few times then returning to watch the angels. The three of them stood in silence for several moments, only the sound of the Doctor's sonic making any noise.
Watching the angels, John could also see the Doctor. He kept swiping a hand over his bangs nervously, flicking his head to the side to get them out of his eyes. He would sonic the angels finger, its face, its elbow then read the conclusion the sonic came to with the information. The more he tried, the more frustrated the Doctor became. The longer John watched, the farther away Amy seemed to them, suddenly becoming only a memory.
The Doctor read the sonic after scanning the angel's out-stretched finger for what John counted as the third time. A deep grunt of frustration rose from the Doctor's throat, not seeing anything worthwhile that would help him to find Amy. "To hell with these cursed angels!" he shouted, taking the angel's finger and pulling on it furiously. He stumbled, the crack of stone taking him off guard and making him fall on his backend.
"Doctor?" John asked. "What did you just do?"
"I-" he hesitated to reply, trying to figure out what he was holding in his hand. Looking into his palm, he examined the stone pointer finger. "I pulled its finger," he stated incredulously. The Doctor couldn't help but crack a small, wavering smile.
"That shouldn't happen, though," Sherlock questioned cautiously, "If I'm correct, Doctor?"
"Yes, Sherlock, you're very right." The Doctor lifted himself off his feet and strode back to the angel with the missing finger, peering at it with a meticulous eye. "The weeping angels' number one defense is their stone camouflage which is unquestionably indestructible. Even throwing them into the middle of an exploding star would only scratch them, but…" He pieced the finger back where it belonged then took it off, "I just broke this off."
"Worth investigating," Sherlock commented.
"Nothing gets past you, Sherly." The Doctor pulled the sonic screwdriver out again, changing the setting before scanning the angel's now finger nub.
John was dumbfounded at how easily the Doctor was able to regain control of himself with just this grain of hope that they may be able to find Amy again. He had known the Doctor would have been wrathfully angry, but never expected him to be forgiving at all, or at least so willing to preoccupy himself with the curious wonders in front of him instead of the painful truths.
The sonic whirred, making him clap his hands together excitedly. "This is good, very good, this is, in fact brilliant," the Doctor glow as he reread the sonic's scan.
"What is it?" John asked.
"Well, the sonic says these angels haven't had a proper feeding of energy besides…just now, um…in nearly 2,000 years. Absolutely stellar!"
"So they're weak," Sherlock concluded.
"Not just weak they're starving! Imagine having someone placing a plate of Yorkshire pudding in front of you after you haven't eaten in a week. That's exactly how these angels have been feeling for centuries." The Doctor put his hands on his knees, looking each angel over carefully. "These three have had some rotten luck, not getting a bite to eat in quite a long time. Probably living of scraps of energy." The Doctor lifted himself looking between John and Sherlock. "But seeing the company they're in now," he paused, turning a hardened stare on the angel that had touched Amy, "I'd say things have gotten quite a lot worse for them."
"So we can find Amy then? They'll tell us where she may be?" John said, the Doctor's hope of finding Amy beginning to rub off on him.
"Yes. We'll find Amy. I don't care if we have to lift every rock at every time in every part of the universe…we have to find her." The Doctor's jaw clenched, his steadfast, wizened eyes stared at the angel, knowing well enough that he would keep his promise.
Hope the change of scenery did you well. This is scene was really thrilling to write. Expect more Winchesters+Amy soon, cuz honestly, I can't get enough of them. Review and Rate!