Rose felt safe. Even though she was trapped in a room designed for torture, she felt... safe. She knew that in the arms of the Doctor, her best friend, her everything, she was going to be okay. She buried her face in his collarbone, inhaling the
tangy scent of blood and sweat, laced with his signature smell of mint leaves. She loved him. Every bit of him. She was safe.
The Doctor felt like he needed to protect her. At all costs. Resting his chin on her head, he felt an overwhelming sense of ownership. Like she was his most prized possession in a room full of bullies threatening to take it from him. He loved her. Every bit of her. He was her protector.
While Sherlock, on the other hand, was busy in his mind palace, trying to ignore the obvious lovefest in front of him. He wanted John. He wished John was with him. His best, and only, friend. He was bored to tears with all the waiting. He wished that door would open and they could all leave.
As if on cue, the door opened with a loud squeak and the sound of metal grinding against metal. The trenchcoated man. With the blue eyes. Sherlock stood up, rage intense like a fire in his ice cold eyes. He prepared his fist for the young man's face. "It's okay." Castiel whispered, moving towards the still-injured Rose. He was going to heal her. He rested his hand on her face and within an instant, her pain was gone. Before she could react, the man flushed and turned around and locked the door once more. Rose fainted, the surprise too much for her. The Doctor held her in his arms, speechless. Maybe that man was good. Maybe he was going to help them. One could only hope.
The Doctor brushed Rose's hair out of her eyes, and planted a quick kiss on her cheekbone. Sherlock was awestruck, backing into the wall with such force he crashed into the ground, jaw slack. What just happened? Was that man some sort of healer? It was all behind his comprehension. And he hated that.
The door opened once more. It was Dean. Sam stood across the way, his face stony and emotionless. "Alright, we have good news." Dean mocked, laughter threatening to break his fearsome appearance. "We're going to let one of you go."
Sherlock and the Doctor exchanged a long look. The Doctor clutched the still lifeless Rose to his chest, taking in the news. One of them could go. But the other two...
"What about the other two?" Sherlock inquired, raising an eyebrow.
"They stay here, we have plans for them."
Plans? What did he mean?
"Which one of us leaves?" the Doctor asked, true curiosity shining through the rough-edged sound of his voice.
"The girl."
The Doctor sighed in relief, lolling his head back. She was going to be okay. But... they might hurt her.
"Why are you only letting one go?" he asked.
Dean shrugged, "Fair play."
And with that he shut the door and left in soft silence.
