Fuck. Shit. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. I leaned against the door, trying not to collapse completely.

"I think I heard something downstairs. I'll go check. Don't touch the blue box while I'm gone: I don't know if she'll like you."

His voice. The one I'd been running away for years. The one that had made me discover the world, the universe, everything! Running with him had been short, but had made me open my eyes to the world of possibilities; literally.

I heard a pair of shoes go down the stairs. Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Closer. Tap-tap. Tap. The tapping slowed down.

I took a deep breath. I couldn't run away anymore. Nothing stayed hidden from him.

I lifted my head slightly, stood up straight and nonchalantly strutted inside, turned to close and lock the door and felt a hand on my shoulder.

"John."

I jumped and turned around violently.

"Why are you here?," I asked in barely more than a terrified whisper.

"This has to stop. I'm surprised you haven't told anything to that man upstairs I -"

"Sherlock. His name is Sherlock," I hissed.

"That's a nice name. He doesn't seem too bewildered. Strange." He scrunched his face into a grimace, probably wondering why Sherlock wasn't awestruck. Maybe annoyed. You could never tell what he was thinking. The Doctor's mind was a mysterious cloud of collective thoughts inside the locked box of emotions and knowledge that was his head, and nobody had the key to crack that box open and discover his secrets.

"We have to talk. Actually, we should've talked about this since you left."

In a moment of insanity, I agreed.

"Fine. Go upstairs while I take off my coat." I mustered up enough strength in my legs to walk a bit and take off my coat, as slowly as I dared, whilst the lanky figure of the Doctor ran back up the stairs, back to the box and Sherlock.

As soon as I dragged my feet up the steps, all the while gripping the handrail for dear life, and mounted the last step, I could feel energy emanating from the room. Not just because an enormous magic blue box was stationed in the middle of the living room, but because everybody in the room was tense. I couldn't decide if the energy I could almost feel on my fingertips was positive or negative. It felt like a mix of both, with a dash of excitement. I stepped into the room and lifted my head.

A voice I didn't expect piped up: "John? Who is this? He just appeared out of thin air! He said you'd explain, I don't know who he is, but he is pretty handsome..."

"It's alright, Mrs. Hudson, I know him. From, erm, long ago."

"Well, it would be rude to let him starve here. What would you like to eat or drink, love?"

"Do you have any fish sticks and custard,by any chance? That's my favorite," He smiled goofily and sat down in my chair, bringing up his legs to sit cross-leggedly.

She seemed taken aback.

"Oh. Okay... What about something to drink? Tea?"

"That would be great!" The Doctor smiled a genuine smile, I could tell he very much liked Mrs. Hudson.

"I'll make some for all of you boys."

"Put something strong in mine please, Mrs. Hudson," I said weakly.

She looked at me, smiled pitifully and quietly walked back downstairs, her heels clicking softly against the wooden floor, her purple dress disappearing behind the landing.

I sat down next to Sherlock and entwined my fingers softly with his, his thumb tracing circles absentmindedly against my hand. I felt his hard silver ring against my fingers, a material proof that we had made a promise. He looked at me and raised his eyebrows, asking me a silent question. I just shook my head.

"How long have you been here, Doctor?" It could be anywhere from the moment I left to a few minutes before I came back.

"Oh, maybe a few minutes."

I checked my phone for new texts from Sherlock, and as I had predicted, there was one.

Come to Baker Street. Urgent. -SH

I put my phone back in my pocket.

An awkward silence followed.

"Well, congratulations on your... erm, wedding and marriage and stuff. That's so human." He drifted off, I could see it in his eyes; a thought taking over his mind, a glazed look plastered over his face while he was smiling vaguely.

"Yes, thank you. Moving on." I had no time for whacking around the bush. But I didn't want to get straight to the point. Convenient.

I could feel my hands getting sweaty and my heart beating too hard for my body, for what felt like the thousandth time this week. What would Sherlock think after this ordeal was over?

It was in that moment, as I turned to look at the Doctor and back to Sherlock again, it hit me that they were the same: two geniuses that sometimes preferred isolation but lived for their companions. The only difference between them was that one had to carry the burden of emotions in a single heart while the other had two hearts to help him live through all the pain and injustice he'd been through. He would've otherwise had concentrated all his hardship in one beating heart, but would that've been possible?

"Now! Introductions have been made; I'm The Doctor, he's Sherlock, but now we have to get down to business." The Doctor clapped his hands once, his face going cheery to serious in an instant.

"Why are you really here?" I didn't believe it was only because "This had to stop". There had to be something else.

"Wait. Explain all of... this... first." It had been the first time Sherlock had spoken with me in the same room since he'd had his tantrum last night. He sounded very confused, and nobody could blame him.

"Okay. Sherlock, there are things I haven't told you about myself." He opened his mouth as if to speak. "Now, before you start, I have to say I didn't say any of it because you would think I were mad, which I probably am, but anyway, here it goes.

"This is The Doctor. You were here when he landed?" He nodded curtly. "Well, to explain him, I must explain her. Her as in the TARDIS. That stands for-"

"Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Sorry. I can't resist! I mean she is mine." He smiled goofily like he does when he talks of the TARDIS.

"It's fine but don't interrupt me again. This is hard enough as it is."

I took a deep breath and continued.

"I um... I've never been in the army. The bullet wound... I got it from er- an alien."

After a pause that seemed infinite, Sherlock just laughed a bit.

"Well I always knew you were hiding something, but this is quite different than I expected."

I shifted myself a bit, so that I could look at him head-on.

"So, wait, you believe this?!"

"I would know if you were lying."

He was curt all of a sudden. It had all shaken him, I could tell.

"Um, also this man here, The Doctor, he... Well, you can explain who you are."

I fell into silence, not wanting to talk anymore, feeling numb, my heart racing, wondering what Sherlock would do next.

"Well! This is the TARDIS (as I've said before) and basically, it-"

"Travels through time and space. I am not thick, Doctor."

He seemed taken aback by Sherlock's monotone voice.

"Yes, erm, well, anyway, I am a Time Lord, from another planet. And contrary to popular belief, I am not the last of the Time Lords."

Sherlock didn't say anything. Just stared.

"There are two remaining Time Lords. And you are standing in a room with both."