"Is there any way of destroying it?" Sherlock asked as he, the Doctor, and Rose spied the Nestene Consciousness.
"I've got some anti-plastic, but I'm not going to use it until I've given them a second chance." The Doctor said.
"Typical for you. I wouldn't even try." Sherlock muttered, but then he spotted John and Mickey down below, surrounded by Autons. He and Rose rushed down to them, while the Doctor continued on to confront the Nestene Consciousness alone.
"What happened, Sherlock? What the hell is going on here?" John shook his head, still a little dazed after having woken up a few minutes ago in a strange, dark place surrounded by plastic figures and a bubbling, roaring liquid vat of fire below. Not to mention feeling annoyed by the creeped-out, babbling, blubbering Mickey sitting next to him that Rose was currently trying to comfort.
"It's all right, John, you're safe." Sherlock said, kissing him on the forehead, stunning the others. "We'll get you out of here."
"I've died, haven't I?" John asked, confused by the hellish place and Sherlock's heavenly kiss. He wanted some more of that.
"No, John, you haven't and you won't." Sherlock insisted. "Come on, let's go see what type of trouble the Doctor has managed to get himself into."
He stood up, pulling John along with him, and pushed past the Autons, ignoring them while John managed to follow after him. The Doctor called out to the Nestene Consciousness using the Shadow Proclamation, which Sherlock briefly noted and considered asking the Doctor about later, if there was such a time since he might have need of invoking such a power if he traveled with the Time Lord. Sherlock and John joined the Doctor on the lower level platform, overlooking the Nestene Consciousness immediately below them, while Mickey and Rose remained on the level above, watching them.
John grimaced at the sight of the Nestene Consciousness, slightly sickened by its ghoulish appearance, while Sherlock was fascinated by his first sight of a truly alien intelligence beyond his comprehension. The Doctor might be an alien, but he was almost human in his characteristics and manners and could be comprehensible. Sherlock certainly understood him in part from what little he had read of UNIT's and Torchwood's profiles on him, and had deduced several more details about him upon meeting, such as his recent wartime experience.
But this thing was gorgeous and deadly at the same time, hardly human at all in its behavior and characteristics. He could not understand it, and he wanted to know more about these alien creatures. Yet the Doctor casually and even crudely spoke to the Nestene Consciousness, provoking and verbally attacking it with jokes and the truth of the situation. Sherlock was almost certain the Nestene Consciousness would not take these threats well. Better get the anti-plastic ready, Doctor, Sherlock thought to himself.
John shifted away from the Doctor, painting a target on his back, and glanced around, aware of the Autons circling round them. "Should we really be doing this right now? Shouldn't we be getting out of here?"
"I'm afraid it's too late, John. Things have already reached the breaking point. There's no turning back now." Sherlock whispered, taking note of where the Autons were positioned and preparing himself to fight them. "Use it now, Doctor." Sherlock urged.
"No." The Doctor briefly told him, knowing what Sherlock meant.
He admired and hated the Doctor at this point for putting them into this precarious position, but he did not blame the Time Lord so much when this was his usual behavior and means of attack—verbally confronting an opponent without an escape route until something came to him. Hopefully something would come to the Doctor about now, like the anti-plastic he had on hand. But the Autons seized the Doctor while he was distracted. Sherlock and John attempted to fight them off until their hands lowered, revealing ray guns. Sherlock and John surrendered at this point, while things had escalated between the Doctor and the Nestene Consciousness.
Both his anti-plastic vial and TARDIS had been discovered. Sherlock mentally cursed the Doctor for waiting too long to play his trump. The Doctor's voice choked up as he pleaded with the Nestene Consciousness, telling it that he was not to blame for what happened in the war. What was this war that had so plagued and affected the Doctor and the Nestene Consciousness, Sherlock mused, even face-to-face with an Auton gun. It had to be something of a cosmic nature if it affected multiple planets with the Doctor caught up in the middle of it all.
John simply wondered if he was about to die, squeezing his eyes shut as he prayed that it would be quick and pain-free. Sherlock should not be here with him, though. He wished that Sherlock could be spared. "Invasion of the plastic people. Death by plastic ray gun." John muttered, giggling to himself when there was nothing left for him to do.
"John, please shut up." Sherlock tried to think of a way out of this mess, but nothing came to him, just the thought of that anti-plastic—clutched in the hand of one of the Autons close to the edge of the platform above the vat. If only that thing would fall right in the middle of the Nestene Consciousness. That would surely destroy it. But he was not in the position to bump into the Auton, at least not yet.
At the moment…"Sir!" Anthea called out, running to Mycroft at MI6 headquarters. "There are multiple attacks taking place in the middle of London and the surrounding area, except they seem to involve plastic mannequins."
"Plastic mannequins? Are you sure?" Mycroft asked before checking out the CCTV display, which caused his ashen face to pale even more than usual at the sight of the massacre. "Plastic mannequins. It's just like in one of those UNIT documents on the Doctor…the Automatons, or Autons I believe they were called."
"They're coming this way." Anthea said, her ear pressed up to her mobile. "That's just a few blocks away from us."
"Get UNIT on the phone!" Mycroft ordered. "They must have some kind of attack plan in place for such an invasion, from the 70s or 80s, whenever. Something to destroy these bloody plastic mannequins!"
"What about Torchwood?" Anthea asked. "The attacks are spreading too far and too fast for UNIT alone to handle. We need more experienced, trained containment forces."
"They aren't ready to deal with this type of threat yet, are they?" Mycroft asked. Anthea shrugged and Mycroft continued, "Well, get in touch with them in any case, maybe they've got something on hand to ward them off. Tell Torchwood to patrol densely populated areas close to wherever these mannequins might be displayed and keep a low profile. Increase our security patrol here."
"Yes, sir," Anthea said, running off again to send out his orders.
"Sherlock, where are you?" Mycroft was worried that his brother might somehow be involved in this mess when he had sent out Sherlock to find out more about the Doctor sighting.
He never should have given Sherlock all of that information. It had just stoked his brother's brain and ego too much and excited him to the point of diving off into some strange, new adventure. But part of the reason why Mycroft had gotten Sherlock involved in the first place was because Sherlock was the only person he knew of who could handle and maybe even survive such dangerous encounters with the Doctor. He just hoped his brother had the doctor, Dr. John Watson to be precise, to keep him company and keep him sane.
Meanwhile, police and emergency services were flooded with calls from Queen Arcade and the surrounding area, with SWAT teams and London's finest, including New Scotland Yard, being sent there. Lestrade was among the first at the scene. "Cor blimey, what is going on here?" He muttered to himself, shaking his head at the sight of plastic mannequins lumbering about, firing at people. It was like a bloody warzone here. He hadn't believed the news about this plastic-faced mob, but now that he saw them in action, he knew that nothing would be normal again. Sherlock would probably get a kick out of it, though.
"What should we do here?" Sally Donovan asked as she and the rest of the force cowered behind their patrol cars.
"All right, we need to get civilians out of the area and under cover." Lestrade ordered Sally and any officer within hearing distance. "Guns are authorized. Take out any of these plastic-faced, armed assailants when possible, but make sure to aim and fire if it's clear. The army should be coming soon, hopefully, to deal with this mess. We'll be holding them off until help arrives." With that, Lestrade emerged and started firing at the mannequins, followed by Donovan and the rest of the force. The mannequins were distracted enough by the armed response that they started turning away from helpless victims to attacking the police.
Other people across London, like Mrs. Hudson and Molly Hooper, remained glued to their TV sets and news reports, afraid to come out of hiding and face the terror on the streets. But just outside of London's metropolitan area, in a palatial manor on a country estate, two figures gleefully watched the action on the screen.
"What did I tell you?" The Master laughed. "Plastic makes it possible. Plastic is the future of humanity. The Autons will win!"
"Plastic is dull, boring, and clichéd, much like your wife Lucy." Moriarty muttered. "I still say we should have stuck with the Slitheen. They're already in place, you know, awaiting our final orders, ready to strike."
"Oh, you just like the way they fart." The Master muttered, slumping back down in his seat, causing Moriarty to laugh.
"I can't help it. It's so amusing that out of all the bodily functions available to them from such a wide arrange of features, the only way they can compress and expel so much of that pressure is to fart." Moriarty laughed again before he sighed. "Imagine such great hunters farting all of the time! Plus, I liked their plan." He grew more serious. "It seems to be an elaborate ruse, yet it's more fun that way. And I can't help thinking of that nice, tidy sum of intergalactic money we were going to make from the sale of chunks of this burned out earth. Cinders and ash."
"We did get a finder's fee for bringing the Nestene Consciousness here to this planet, full of rich toxins and dioxides." The Master remarked. "That's worth something, is it not?"
"If you say so." Moriarty said in a sing-song voice, turning back to the screen. "I'm still waiting for the results."
Meanwhile, the Doctor called out to Rose and Mickey to leave, the invasion was about to start, but Rose took the time to answer a phone call—bugger it all, Sherlock thought to himself. Pointless, idiotic conversation when they were all about to die. Rose and Mickey fumbled with the TARDIS door when the stairs fell, but then Rose turned and faced the Doctor as a disembodied voice, possibly from the Consciousness called out, 'Time Lord', causing both Sherlock and John to shiver. John opened his eyes and watched alongside Sherlock as Rose and the Doctor stared at each other, riveted, and suddenly Rose raced away from the TARDIS, towards some chains hanging nearby on the upper level. Somehow, she had gotten hold of an axe to cut them loose.
"Oh, clever girl." Sherlock said to himself as she made a somewhat grandiose speech, grabbed the chain, and swung across like a female Tarzan.
She plowed into a long line of Autons, knocking them down and helping to free the Doctor, who shook off his captors. This distracted the Autons near Sherlock and John enough that Sherlock managed to knock into the Auton holding the anti-plastic vial, causing both to fall into the Nestene Consciousness. But Sherlock nearly fell in as well, overbalanced on the edge of the platform.
And as he was about to be swallowed up in the liquid fire of the alien intelligence screaming in agony, Sherlock comprehended it at last, for he felt the same way facing death and contemplating all that he had failed to achieve and do. No, there was so much more that could be done and seen, he had so much left to do! But John somehow managed to grab hold of the consulting detective, possibly by his coat, and pull him back from the edge, causing both of them to fall down backwards on the platform.
"That's enough of that, now." John managed to say as they both got up. "Can't lose you, too, can I?"
"No. Thank you, John." Sherlock said, gasping for breath and relieved to have his blogger back with him as Rose swung back and was caught by the Doctor with a smile. Everything started exploding around them then and they raced up to the TARDIS, where Mickey was waiting for them. Rose glanced back once, still smiling as she entered the TARDIS.
"Oh my god." Both John and Mickey said at that point, seeing the interior of the TARDIS for the first time (technically second time for John, although the video of the old TARDIS interior didn't really count) as it dematerialized from the exploding base.
All across London, and as far as the Nestene Consciousness signal had spread, the plastic mannequins started malfunctioning, and then ceased to function altogether, turning back into regular plastic figures. Mycroft checked the CCTV feed twice to make sure the cameras had not malfunctioned and then froze with the plastic malfeasance, but once he was certain everything was correct and seemingly back to normal, he told Anthea to call UNIT and Torchwood to rescind his orders. They weren't needed anymore, probably thanks to the Doctor and maybe his little brother Sherlock. Mother would be inordinately proud of him if she knew, Mycroft was certain with a roll of his eyes and a small smile.
Lestrade ordered his forces to cease firing when he and the others saw the plastic-faced assailants falling apart, truly revealing them to be made of nothing more than plastic, not human. "What the devil just happened here?" He asked, aghast. Most people were wondering the same question, although they still had to deal with the fallout of the attack, namely the dead and wounded. Molly Hooper was certain the morgue at St. Barts would be full when she got there tomorrow morning, and she shivered at the thought of all those helpless victims dying on London's streets. Who or what could have done such a thing?
At the palatial manor, Moriarty laughed even harder as the Master stared at the screen, horrified. "No, no, no, no! The Autons were supposed to win." The Master shouted. "It was all set up so perfectly. Everything should have gone right, for once in my lifetimes!"
"You can't make those Autons do anything right!" Moriarty cried. "You tried once before with them, I know that, back in the 70s. And they even tried to invade by themselves sometime before that, but they failed! They fail every single time they try to take control! You can't win when you're made of plastic!"
"You're wrong! They never failed, they were always defeated by the Doctor." The Master gasped as Moriarty froze, staring up at him in shock and awe. "He's here." The Master said. "The Doctor, he's here, he's come at last!"
"After all this time?" Moriarty said. "He's been gone for so long without any sign of him. Please tell me it's not a false alarm like last time!"
"It's the Doctor, I'm telling you! He's here, he's returned, and we shall crush him and Sherlock Holmes!" The Master and Moriarty laughed at that.
Inside the TARDIS, the Doctor rounded on Sherlock. "You did that on purpose, knocked the Auton and the anti-plastic into the vat."
"I did what I had to do." Sherlock admitted. "You weren't able to do that when the Autons had you. They were winning, you were losing, and if someone didn't do something, like me and Rose, then none of us would be standing here alive and the earth would practically be dead, taken over by plastic."
John, Rose, and Mickey winced at this painful reminder as they glanced around the TARDIS, still shocked and surprised by it all, yet taking it in. Mickey blubbered a little bit, though, certain that they were going to be destroyed and not quite aware that the TARDIS was moving away from the hellish den. He was still thinking that this was some sort of nightmare. John and Rose remained cool, calm, and collected. They were certain that they were safe enough here, especially with Sherlock and the Doctor present to take control of things.
"Is that all you can think about? Winning and losing? It's not all a game, you know, Sherlock." The Doctor said. John nodded to himself, agreeing with that sentiment, though Sherlock sometimes could not see that.
"I know, but sometimes the game is the only important thing that matters." Sherlock said. "Life and death can be a game sometimes and you were jeopardizing all of our lives on a gamble by offering the Autons a second chance. You knew the odds weren't even in your favor by bringing the anti-plastic with you. You were going to destroy them if you failed. I just did it for you."
"I know!" The Doctor shouted, staring at Sherlock as John whipped his head around, surprised by this turn of events. John hadn't quite understood everything that was going on back at the complex, having missed a whole bunch, but he understood that the Nestene and Autons had somehow been destroyed—yet he hadn't known it was by Sherlock's hands.
"I tried to give them a second chance." The Doctor muttered, still thinking of his failure as he turned away to the console. "People deserve a second chance. It's more than I got or deserved."
"Well sometimes, they don't take their second chances." Sherlock said. "You either have to force it on them or give up. I gave up for you so that you didn't have to." John frowned, slightly worried about his friend.
The Doctor paused and glanced askance at Sherlock. "Thanks, I think, but it shouldn't have been necessary."
"You're welcome. And you can really thank me by taking John and me with you on your travels." Sherlock added with a smile, turning away from the Doctor, who looked like he was going to have an apoplectic attack. John's eyes widened, not certain how he felt about that idea.
"What about that Nestene Consciousness?" John asked, looking up and interrupting before the Doctor could get too enraged. "How did it get down there? Who installed it in that vat? How did it get to this planet?"
"Well done, John, excellent questions. Doctor, do you have an answer for those?" Sherlock queried.
"I don't know." The Doctor said, frowning. "I don't know and now we'll never find out, thanks to you."
"Why didn't you notice Mickey and John were Autons?" Sherlock rounded on Rose now.
"What?" John's head popped up. "I was what?"
"I don't know! I hadn't met John before, I didn't notice-" Rose started to say.
"That even your own boyfriend was plastic?" Sherlock finished for her, smiling as she blushed and the Doctor laughed.
"You couldn't tell me from a fake replica of me?" Mickey gasped.
"I'm sorry, it didn't cross my mind that you could be." Rose said.
"You still should have known. Just how well do you know him?" Sherlock asked Rose.
"Not very well at all." She admitted.
"That's the truth, isn't it?" Mickey said.
"You knew I was plastic, right?" John asked Sherlock.
"Of course I knew, straightaway." Sherlock insisted. "The stretching didn't help."
"Thanks for that." John said, not certain how to take it as they materialized on the edge of the Powell Estate.
Mickey stumbled out of the TARDIS, shocked by the sudden movement and finding himself in a different place, not the blown-up complex, with Rose and the Doctor following after him, though the Doctor paused in the doorway. Sherlock stopped John from moving any farther as they stood by the console. "We need to stay in the TARDIS in order to travel with the Doctor and the only way we can do that is not to leave the TARDIS." Sherlock told John. "Or else the Doctor will force us out."
"Are you sure this is such a good idea, traveling with the Doctor?" John asked.
"Do you want to leave and give up on traveling with the Doctor?" Sherlock asked, uncertain about John's response. He certainly wanted to continue, but he didn't know how he would feel, not having John with him. It didn't seem right, somehow, if he went on alone with the Doctor and left John behind. He was torn between John and the Doctor at this point.
John hesitated, feeling pressured to stay, even though he knew how dangerous it was, because he and Sherlock sort of had enjoyed it and maybe the Doctor would be all right to travel with, once they got to know him some more. Plus, there was so much out there that he hadn't experienced, and he wanted to know more as well. "All right, we'll stay." John murmured and nodded.
"Excellent." Sherlock smiled, pleased, and even John smiled as well.
The Doctor, at this point, made an appeal to Rose to travel with him, but Sherlock and John were shocked at this point to hear Rose reject his offer. "I thought she liked him." John said. "He liked her, after all, he asked her."
"I did, too." Sherlock frowned to himself, wondering about that. There had to be something more there with Rose and the Doctor. She might be concerned about Mickey and her mum, but there had to be some reason why she was attracted to the Doctor in the first place to consider being with him. But what made her not want to go, besides her concerns and the danger?
At that point, the Doctor's emotional responses had shut down. He had closed the TARDIS doors, probably feeling heartbroken, dejected, and rejected, and walked back up to the console and started to dematerialize his ship, not even looking up at Sherlock and John. The two men remained silent for a moment, certain that the Doctor might lash out at them once they were gone, calling them irritating, pointless, and stupid when he felt so bad, and afraid that he might kick them out as soon as possible.
"Time travel." Sherlock suddenly said, realizing what was missing here.
"What was that?" The Doctor said, looking up at Sherlock in shock as if he didn't know the other man had existed and then withheld anger that he did.
"You didn't tell Rose about the time travel." Sherlock said. "You mentioned how it can go anywhere in space, but you forgot to mention time travel. I believe she might like that particular feature of the TARDIS most of all." John glanced between the Doctor and Sherlock, wondering what was going on here and what the detective had figured out.
"Are you serious?" The Doctor asked. "So if I went back there and told her-"
"She might come." Sherlock said. "She might."
"All right, I'll give it a go." The Doctor sighed, not certain if it would work, but he tried to act more cheerful as he rematerialized the TARDIS back where Rose and Mickey were, stuck his head out, and spoke up. Rose smiled, nodded at him, kissed Mickey good-bye and then raced for the TARDIS.
The Doctor stuck his head back in, overwhelmed and turned back to Sherlock with a large, genuine smile and said, "It worked!"
"Told you!" Sherlock laughed and turned to John, hugging him tightly, pleased with the way things had turned out as Rose entered the TARDIS and it dematerialized, leaving Mickey and the Powell Estate far behind them. Good riddance, Sherlock thought to himself, glad to be gone. Earth and the 21st century were gone, and they were heading out into the unknown. Sherlock couldn't wait to get there.
John felt his heart pounding. The adventure was just beginning, and they were going who knows where and who knows when with a mad, heartbroken, torn and shredded Time Lord at the controls. He felt like anything could happen, anything might, and that scared and thrilled him more than anything with Sherlock by his side. Anything could happen to them. They might become as broken and scarred as this mad, lost Time Lord, or they might lead the grandest, happiest adventure of theirs and any lifetimes. It was all just beginning for them.