It took quite some time to calm John down. His wrist hurt terribly and he still couldn't believe Sherlock was alive. And that idiot-what was his name again?-who broke his wrist was smirking at him. His cheek was swelled up, but the man hardly noticed and was conversing lowly with the "Doctor", throwing John little glances. John wanted to punch him all over again. But his hand was bruising and his other hand was incapable at the moment; speaking of which…
"I need to go to a hospital," John cut in, holding up his wrist.
"Ah yes, hospital right!" the "Doctor" said walking over to John. He grabbed John's wrist excitedly.
"Ow! I thought you said you were a doctor!"
"Yes, that's right I am a doctor, now shut up and let me take a look!"
John looked at the Doctor annoyed. Who did this man think he was?
"Well I'm also a doctor, Doctor, and I've seemed to have broken half of my proximal row and maybe fractured ulna."
He felt at the bone on his wrist softly, wincing as he did so. Yes, it was definitely fractured. His wrist looked weirdly lumpy and he looked away. He wasn't normally squeamish, but looking at his own injuries messed with his head.
"Ah, yes, exactly what I was going to say!" the Doctor said, still examining John's wrist.
"Hey Doc, I got to get back soon, so can we wrap this up?" the tall American said, banging on the side of the blue box twice before walking inside. The door slammed shut behind him and the Doctor muttered, "She doesn't like it when you hit her, Sam "
John gave the Doctor a quizzical glance. It was a box, it didn't have feelings. Why was Sherlock hanging about with these people? They were nuts!
"Doctor, just fix him up in the medical bay and let's go," Sherlock said a bit impatiently before hopping into the box himself. Oh right, how could John forget; Sherlock was insane too! It must of been a very tight squeeze it that small box; Sherlock and Sam was very tall and the box seem too short for them.
"Oh, so we're left out here with the angel that's bloody typical," John gripped. Keeping their eyes on the angel, the two men slowly walked towards the blue box. The Doctor snapped his fingers and the doors swung open.
"Get in the box, John," the Doctor said. "We don't have all day!"
"I'm not getting into that small box with three men!" John exclaimed, giving the Doctor a look out of the corner of his eye. The angel moved closer and John gulped. He didn't try and look into the box behind him for fear the angel would move closer. Suddenly and hand grabbed the back of his scrubs and he was yanked backwards.
He fell with a loud thud and the air was knocked out of him. He was aware of the doors closing and he wondered how he could be laying down in the small box. The ceiling did seem very high...
John sat up with a gasp and looked around him. He was in a huge room; it was dark yet somehow light and a huge consul was in the center of it. On the top of the consul there was spinning steel beams with strange intricate circles graved onto it. The room was twinkling with lights and the ground hummed slightly.
"The inside's bigger," John breathed out. Sherlock smirked at him, leaning back on the wall next to the door. Sam and the Doctor glanced back at him and the Doctor said excitedly, "What did you say John?"
"I said-"
"Its bigger on the inside!" Sherlock said sarcastically, waving his hands around.
Sam laughed and Sherlock smiled.
"Don't be an arse, it is!" John snapped at Sherlock. John stood and turned to the Doctor.
"You an alien?"
The Doctor smiled.
"Guilty as charged."
"And you?" John said, looking at Sam. Sam looked at John for a moment and said finally,"No."
John nodded as if this all made sense and turned to Sherlock.
"So this is where you've been. Hiding with a madman and a prick. Bloody typical. Everyone thinks you've died, hell I even thought you died and you couldn't even tell me you faked it? I'm your best friend!"
Sherlock stared at John. John stared him down.
"Er, do you want to go to the medbay now or…" the Doctor said, tugging at his bowtie nervously.
"Yes!" John growled as he continued to glare at Sherlock.
"Alrighty then, follow me," the Doctor said somewhat awkwardly. Tearing his gaze away from Sherlock John exclaimed, "This isn't over Sherlock, we're talkin' about this after my hand is properly taken care of."
And with that John Watson stalked out of the room.
Hey, author here! Sorry I haven't updated recently I've been extremely busy but I hope you enjoy the story! Let me know what you think! Review and Favorite!