==Chapter 9==

Back to the Future

'There are days that must happen to you.'

- Walt Whitman

Watson clung grimly to the console, his knuckles white. When the TARDIS landed with her usual thump, he was already racing down the ramp and flinging the door open.

He heard a whoop from the Doctor, who was running forward to his ship, throwing himself against her side and hugging her, eyes closed in bliss. "Bless you, Sally Sparrow!" He opened his eyes and grinned up at Watson.

Holmes came forward too, still dressed for the Sixties, and hugged Watson tightly. "Watson, thank God!"

Watson returned the embrace fervently for a moment, deeply relieved to see that both of his friends really were all right, then turned to the Doctor, his anxiety rushing back. "Doctor, you have to help me – Sally was left behind with the Angels, I need to find her!"

"Sh, shh, Watson, it's okay." The Doctor gripped his good shoulder comfortingly. "She's okay. Remember when we first saw her?" When Watson nodded, trying with little success to calm himself, he continued: "That was in her future – she had to survive for this whole thing to turn out the way it did in the first place! It's a time loop, and she had to be left behind for it to remain stable—or the damage the Angels would have done could still have happened just by her coming with you."

Holmes, seeing that Watson was still largely unconvinced, reached into the plastic file he was carrying and handed him a notebook – his notebook.

Watson turned hurriedly to where he had been writing down Sally's dialogue... and sagged in relief when he found a completed transcript, in Sally's handwriting. "She finished it..." he murmured wistfully – he should have known.

Holmes seemed to hesitate for a moment, then remarked casually, "You might want to keep reading." He clapped Watson on the shoulder, and turned to enter the TARDIS. "Coming, Doctor?"

The TARDIS had landed in a children's playground, which was deserted at this hour of the morning. Heart pounding, Watson sat down on a nearby bench and turned the page.

Sally drifted back up to John's flat in a daze, taking the lift, which was working now. It was going to be a long time before she could easily use a stairwell. She really just wanted to go for a walk, but it was late now, and she had to take care of things before John's flat was closed up.

She paused at the open door, shuddering, then stepped inside. All was as she and John had left it less than a half hour ago, good. She couldn't leave any traces of an adventure with time-travel and aliens for anyone else to find. John's notebook was lying open on the floor where he'd left it. Her folder with the Wester Drumlins photos and Kathy's letter were on the table. She collected it all and then paused, looking around the flat.

John was gone, and if he ever made it back to this year, he would probably not be taking up residence again in this flat. He didn't have much, but whatever he did have here, she could surely bag up and take with her, just in case she ever got the chance to give it back to him. I hope. She swallowed a sob rising in her throat, and set to work gathering books, notebooks, papers, and stuffing them into garbage bags. She paused again before the fridge, littered with notes and newspaper clippings. Some of the notes were taken during his search for his friends. She put those into his main notebook, then placed the rest into another.

Then she peeked into the single bedroom. It was as neat and spare as the rest of the place, and a quick search of his closet and drawers revealed very little clothing. She took the one suit and placed that in a bag as well, figuring that even if he didn't want the rest of the clothes, he might want that. She pulled out a black jacket, as well—he must have looked very sharp in that—and set it atop the suit.

That was the last of it, then, as far as she could tell. She wanted to sit down on the couch, but she didn't dare. She'd nearly cried once tonight, and when she finally let herself do it… well, she'd rather do it in the comfort of her own living room. Her breath hitched, and she inhaled in a hiss, breathing deeply for a few seconds to relax. Then she dragged the bags out into the hall and stopped in the doorway one last time.

Places always looked so empty and sad after people left them. Usually, she liked that sadness, but she couldn't this time. "'Happy for deep people,'" she muttered scornfully.

She had one last errand before she left the building, and she hoped David was still up. Fortunately, he was, and he was willing to make her one more copy of the Easter egg DVD. "Thanks," she said as she accepted the finished product.

"Not a problem," he replied. "How's the Doc? Did he find what he was looking for?"

"Yes," she said softly, "he did. And he's gone home."

David frowned in surprise, then studied her for a moment. "Are you okay?" he said at last.

"Yeah… I will be, I think. Bye, David."

"Bye, Sally."

She paused at the door. "Hey. Look… do us both a favour, and forget me."

"Okay… Hey, what was your name again?"

She smiled sadly. "Thanks."

Dear John,

Well, I survived, obviously. Don't blame yourself for anything that happened, all right? Don't blame yourself for leaving me—you couldn't help it.

I'm all right, but a little lonely: the Angels took my one close friend and made me lose two others who could have been. Despite having known you for only a short time... I miss you, John. I miss you. If you ever want to come back (and I hope you do), you know where to find me.

Yours in patience,

Sally Sparrow

P.S. Please come back.

Watson's chest was aching sharply as he read the note on the last page, eyes growing moist. He now remembered all too clearly Sally's sorrow-filled eyes as she watched his younger self walk away from her, never dreaming that the Doctor was carrying her last, loving words to him... His face twisted in anguish. "Oh, Sally! I'm sorry, my love, I'm so sorry...!" He bowed his head, tears welling up and blotting the paper.

"Um..." The Doctor's voice came hesitantly from behind. "I got the proper date. The day we first met her? Four things and a lizard? That date? Got a lock on it. Wanna have a look-see?"

Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, Watson shook his head miserably but resolutely. '"Doctor, if we went back there... I honestly don't think I could make myself leave again..." He took a deep, shuddering breath and closed the notebook, hands tightening on it, his next words a whisper: "Not without her..."

The Doctor stepped outside again, giving him a look of complete understanding. "And I wouldn't make you," he murmured, then nodded invitingly at the door. "Come on. You've got a brilliant girl waiting for you."

Watson stared. "But... Doctor, no – Sally has her own life to live, in her own time. Even if she did choose to come with us, it would still be the same in the end, we'd still have to say goodbye. I won't do that to her, not again." It had been agonising enough the first time...

The Doctor sighed and came over to stand in front of Watson. "So you're that sure, eh? Sure that the two of you would have to split up in the end, sure that... Oh!" The Time Lord shifted his jaw, looking down at Watson frankly. "John Hamish Watson, you are not me!" He raised his eyebrows, tone authoritative. "And because you are not me, you are going to march into the TARDIS and go back to that girl and tell her you love her. Otherwise, you're going to end up a lonely old man like me and you really don't want that to happen, so shift."

Watson's eyes widened as he finally began to understand. "Doctor..." he managed to stammer out, "are you saying that... that Sally and I could... and without...?" Unable to even find the right words, he fell silent, still hardly daring to hope.

"Yes! Not all time-travel romances end badly—that's just what books and TV like to make you think!" The Doctor took a calming breath, running his hand through his hair. "Look... you and Holmes are special cases, as far as time travellers go. You have to be able to do what you were born to do in your own timeline to keep the world from falling apart—but the vast majority of the human race doesn't share that burden."

Watson's brow furrowed. What was the Doctor saying, that he and Holmes were a... Fixed Point? No, he must have misunderstood, it would hardly be the first time with the Doctor's so-called explanations. Confusion was swiftly replaced by relief as the Doctor continued: "Most people could live in a time totally different from the one they were born in without endangering reality. Sally is one of those people." The Time Lord raised an eyebrow, tone turning confidential. "Besides... I happen to have on good authority that there is an unnamed new Mrs. Watson at some point in your future..."

Watson laughed shakily, eyes shining. "Well, if I can't take my own word for it...!" Rising, he flung his arms impulsively around the Doctor, a lump in his throat. "Thank you..."

The Doctor hugged him back, shaking his head fondly. "Never mind that... just get back in the TARDIS!"

"Yessir!" Watson grinned, and lost no time in heading inside, calling excitedly to Holmes.

The Doctor strode in after him, bounding up to the console. "All right, 2008, here we come!"

Holmes had been taking his ease in the jump seat, but got up and grabbed a handhold as the Doctor threw down the lever. "Why do I sense we're picking up another pathetic life form?" he asked dryly.

Watson just beamed back at him – he was far too happy to let Holmes's mood dampen his own spirits. Only let his friend meet Sally properly, and he'd understand completely why Watson had been unable to bear the thought of leaving her behind.

Sky: ...if you think it hurt to write this chapter... you're right. *retreats into the corner to deal with the feels*

Ria: And yes, Holmes's last line is from where you think it is - the Doctor's shown the pair all nine Star Wars movies by now. *turns Yoda-green with envy*

Stay tuned, now - still got the epilogue to go!