A/N as promised a longer chapter. sorry I forgot to put a disclaimer. i do not own sherlock or Doctor who. also i am using some song lyrics from the following songs as chapter titles. i do not own any of theses songs. wish i did.
A Thousand Years- Christina Perri
Run- Snow Patrol
Fix You- Cold Play

John and Sherlock approached the gates of Baskerville.

"Remember, you find Clara and I'll go for the alien"

"For the last time Sherlock!"

"No"

They reached the gate. Sherlock showed his ID and John held his breath while they examined it.

"Clear" came the shout and John sighed in relief.

They drove on through and entered the complex .John could see some funny looks thrown at them, but no one disturbed them as they got in the lift and as Sherlock pressed the last button.

"Room RYCBAR123"

"Bit of a long name"

"It's a long way down"

They stood in silence for a moment.

"It's very secret, John. Just go straight there, turn right when we come out of the lift. It should be somewhere along the corridor on your left."

"What about you?"

"Oh I know exactly where I am going"

The lift doors opened and the two men were confronted with the sight of Major Barrymore. He just had time for his eyes to widen before Sherlock dispatched him with a fierce upper cut. He crumpled

"Ok, our time has been halved, they will find him soon enough. Get going!"
Sherlock turned and went left. John turned right and headed down through the corridor. RYCBAR113, RYCBAR117, RYCBAR123. He had it. He swiped his card, and the doors hissed open. What he saw inside made him gasp in horror.

Sherlock hurried down the long white corridor. He had lied to John, he had no idea where he was going. Ok, half an idea, but not exactly. There was a cry from behind him. He stopped, and froze, to listen. It had been a man's voice. It had been a cry of pain.

"No!" a voice shouted "no! No, not Clara!"

It was him!

"Please hurt me instead, just don't hurt Clara-agggggggghhhh!"

The rest of the sentence was drowned out in a scream of pain. Sherlock flinched and turned. The sound was coming from behind him. He doubled back, another scream. It was coming from the door completely in front of him. He reached out and scanned his card. The door slid open. For only the third time in his entire life, Sherlock gasped.

John gasped in horror. The girl from the photographs was tied to a chair in this dank dirty room. There was duct tape over her mouth, her hair was dishevelled and her face and arms were covered in bruises. He could see the rope burns on her wrists and ankles where she had struggled against her bonds. She looked dehydrated and malnourished, and there was a strong smell of urine. As he entered, her eyes darted up in fear. It wasn't just fear in her eyes. It was absolute terror. Tear tracks streaked and stained her face, and as soon as she saw him she started struggling again. He was frozen as soon as he had entered the room, but the sight of her still struggling to get away from him jolted him into action. He couldn't just ask her questions and leave. He had to get this poor girl out. He ran forward she struggled more wildly as he pulled out his penknife.

"Shh shhh, its ok, my name is John Watson, I'm going to get you out. Hold still so I can cut the ropes"
She stopped struggling. She looked down at him as he sawed through the ropes. Her eyes were full of hope. He managed to get through the ropes holding her hands, and she ripped them free and tore off the duct tape covering her mouth. She took a long shuddering breath and coughed. He sliced the ropes binding her legs and stood up. She opened her mouth and spluttered

"who… what… how…?"

"Shh don't talk. I'm going to get you out of here. Put your arm over my shoulder."

He hauled her to her feet. She was very unsteady, as weak as a baby dear. He half dragged half carried her to the door. She was so light, thinner than Sherlock. And John knew that Sherlock was barely borderline healthy. As they passed through the door, all hell broke loose.

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock had gasped. He couldn't help himself. A man in dishevelled tweed was strapped to a harness. As Sherlock watched, a white-coated technician pressed a button and blue lightning struck his body at 100 places at once

"Tell us who you are!"

The technician raised his hand to press a button, but Sherlock spun and dropped him with a vicious kick to the head. He ran up and untied the man from the harness. He collapsed to the floor, but Sherlock turned him over and shouted in his face

"what is your name?"

"The Doctor…" the man gasped

The Doctor! Sherlock cried out in pain and sank to his knees clutching at his head as memories long buried flooded his head. He forced himself to his feet, ignoring the almost blinding pain in his head he could sort his mind palace out later. Right now he needed to get to his friends, new and old, out of here. Suddenly an alarm went off all around him; he spun and saw the technician had recovered and pulled the alarm. Sherlock jumped and sent him flying before he could do anything else. The turned to haul the Doctor to his feet, but he was already standing

"Shall we go?" he asked. Sherlock nodded, but then he heard his name

"Sherlock!"

It was John. Sherlock ran past the Doctor and towards the direction of the shout. The Doctor paused a moment, then his eyes widened and he tore after Sherlock. The Doctor was unsteady on his feet.

"The names Sherlock Holmes!" Sherlock called from in front of him
"You have probably read John's blog, no I will no sign anything, and I am not wearing that hat!"

"Wait my friend; she's in here somewhere I can't leave her!"

"John has her, that's why he shouted"

"Sherlock, how did you know where to find us?"

Sherlock didn't answer, as they had reached the door where John was supporting Clara.

"Oh my God! Clara!" the Time Lord ran forward and tried to scoop Clara in his arms. Instead his shaky legs gave way and he crashed to the floor. John managed to catch Clara before she, too fell. The Doctor stood slowly.

"I can't go very fast; those electric shocks have knocked out my muscles. They're already starting to heal, but I need time and rest, which judging by the alarms going off, is not going to happen anytime soon." As he finished his short speech, he collapsed to the floor again and didn't get up. John turned to Sherlock.

"Sherlock can you-" he broke off. Sherlock was leaning against the wall, his head in his hands.

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock's head snapped up and he roughly pulled the Doctor to his feet.

"Sherlock are you ok?" asked John

"yes, yes, I'm fine I'm always fine"

They made quick progress towards the lift, despite the fact that both Sherlock and John were supporting barely conscious people. They reached the lift, and Sherlock swiped his card. It beeped negatively, and showed red.

"Damm" Sherlock muttered

"They must have cottoned on" murmured John beside him. "Sherlock how do we get out?"

John could feel panic rising in his chest. They were both breathing heavily, but now John could hear another noise. The sound of hurried footsteps. Boots. The soldiers were coming.

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock opened his mouth, like he did whenever he was going to give a witty retort. But nothing came out.

"I-I..."

His back suddenly arched, and he crumpled to the floor.

"Sherlock!"

Now John was stuck with 3 unconscious people and no way out.