Hello my favorite reader, this is AltoOwl with my author's not! Thank you Araneae Siqua, AliceCullen3, Nataly SkyPot, Game-Watch, and MadWhovian for your reviews, but wouldn't it be amazing if all our readers reviewed for this one chapter? Let's see what you think! Don't know what to review? Just copy and paste this: Awesome job! This is one of the best stories I've ever read!
Just a reminder, we do not own Sherlock or Doctor Who, they own us! Our captors are merciless, but we love them anyway... Anyway here's the chapter!
When the Doctor heard the Cyberman's falter, he knew they had discovered Sherlock was missing. Good, he followed the plan, the Doctor thought with satisfaction, I'd hate to die here. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clara attempt to turn around in confusion. As she struggled against the restraints, he bit his cheek to avoid laughing, how hadn't she noticed Sherlock was missing? She had been looking around so openly, so plainly, the entire time they'd been there. No matter how much he knew the human, they never ceased to amaze him, the perception of those humans! How could they miss everything? It took everyone a few seconds, but eventually all of the Cybermen and Clara recovered from their shock. They all looked to him for answers. What? Why would I know where he went? The Doctor asked, mentally holding a conversation with them in his head.
"EXPLAIN. EXPLAIN. EXPLAIN!" one Cyberman demanded, vaguely sounding like a Dalek in his speech pattern.
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up! the Doctor mocked in his thoughts as he tried to think of what to do. Sherlock should be here by now, what would be keeping him? The TARDIS can travel through time, he shouldn't be late! Says the one who was twelve years late at one point, a small voice in his head unhelpfully inputted. Shut up! he told it. Sherlock would be fine, he gave him simple instructions and he would've been and is the smartest human who ever lived.
For now though, the Doctor needed to stall. It shouldn't be that hard, he told himself, just an "I have no idea where he is" here, and an "I didn't help Sherlock escape!" there, and I could distract the Cybermen for hours!
However it was not that easy.
The Cybermen were very insistent that he did know something. They pestered him on end asking the same question over and over again. "WHERE IS THE GREAT DETECTIVE?"
"I don't know," he would reply nonchalantly.
"WHERE IS THE GREAT DETECTIVE?" the Cybermen would ask again with their invincible determination.
"I don't know."
Again. "WHERE IS GREAT DETECTIVE?"
Eventually, it got to a point that the Doctor was so tired of that question that he shouted gravely, "I. Don't. Know!"
The Cybermen stood there silently. They had never been yelled at before, especially yelled at by the Doctor.
It was in that silence that the Doctor gave in to them. "Okay, I may have a slight idea of where he may happen to be," he admitted quietly.
"AT LAST, THE DOCTOR ADMITS IT. WHAT DO YOU KNOW? WHERE IS THE GREAT DETECTIVE?"
"I may be wrong," the Doctor said, drawing out his words, "but he might have gone to his home, 221B Baker Street. He's a coward, he probably ran from the situation in fear."
It might've worked except, Clara couldn't contain her laughter at his outrageous lie, and a short burst of giggles escaped her lips.
The Cybermen then became suspicious, "THE DOCTOR MAY BE LYING. THE DOCTOR LIES."
"What? No!" he protested. Who knows what the Cybermen would have done to him, perhaps he would have been tortured, or Clara would have been killed, but a sound interrupted them.
The Doctor was extremely relieved when he heard the familiar sound of the TARDIS landing.
Why is it that when plans are made, or ideas are thought of, I don't get clued in till the very last possible moment? Clara asked herself, exasperated.
After she overcame the initial shock of Sherlock's disappearance, a disappearance that had happened even though she had deemed any escape impossible, she immediately looked towards the Doctor.
They must've planned something together. Without her, she added to the thought with bitterness. Is it that hard to fill me in? she questioned to herself.
While he denied planning anything to the Cybermen, Clara knew better. Her only wonder was what exactly had they planned? Whatever it was, it needed to happen soon. John was fading, and fast. If they didn't get out of there soon, one if not all three of them could be facing their graves soon. What a terrible way to die, Clara thought pessimistically, I thought I'd die in my own time, or at least my own universe!
She half listened to the rest of the conversation between the Doctor and Cybermen, but was more focused on John. They needed to do something, she wasn't even sure he was still alive. Minimal movements of his chest were signs of breathing, but they were so small Clara wasn't positive that she was just imagining them.
It was when she heard the TARDIS's beautiful grating sound that she would have leapt up a meter, if she hadn't been held down to an uncomfortable chair.
Clara had rejoiced at the beautiful sound, they were going to be saved! She couldn't help but wonder, however, who was inside. It could be their future-selves, but that'd create, as the Doctor put it, "some nasty anomalies." Or it could be Sherlock, or perhaps someone completely different.
Once the TARDIS had fully appeared in front of her, all of the thirty or so Cybermen surrounded it, knocking against it angrily, if that was possible. "DELETE! DELETE!" they said monotonously.
Clara watched patiently, waiting for their savior to be revealed. However the door hadn't opened, instead the TARDIS started to fade again.
"What?" Clara asked, so shocked that she had voiced her confusion aloud.
The Doctor heard her and explained, "The Cybermen will go with the TARDIS. Sherlock is getting rid of them." True to his word, as the TARDIS slowly disappeared, and so had all the Cybermen.
A moment of silence passed before Clara asked, "What now? We're still trapped against our chairs... how did Sherlock escape anyway?"
The Doctor did not reply, and instead fidgeted in his chair for a moment before a quiet, smooth gliding sound was heard from his direction.
Clara was amazed when he stood up with ease, and gently stretched his old joints.
"Finally," the Doctor said, "That chair was painful. Would it have killed the Cybermen to have given us better chairs?"
"Um…. How did you get out of it?" Clara asked, a bit embarrassed that she didn't know what to do.
The Doctor took a second to respond, simply standing there with his back to her. He was observing John, who laid in a lifeless heap inside of his small prison. But he replied, without turning, telling Clara, "There's a small oval by your feet, do you see it?"
Sure enough, when Clara looked down it was there. It was very subtle, so hidden that Clara missed it the first time. The chairs were on small metal platforms, to which the oval was slightly imbedded into, curving inwards, with no real seams. It looked like an illusion.
"Yeah I see it," she answered.
"Good, now press it."
"What?!" There was no possible way she could press that, her ankles were still firmly strapped against the chair.
"Just press it."
Doubtful, Clara squirmed in the chair to try to reach it. Finally the toes on her left foot were on top of it. She pressed down, and sure enough, the cuffs slid down back into the chair, leaving Clara free at last!
As she stood up to stretch, and attempt to remove her aches, Clara blushed as she thought again about how she had deemed it entirely impossible to escape from their restraints, yet both the Doctor and Sherlock had no problem in accomplishing this impossibility.