ok here is the climax. dun dun dun! but... there are still chapters to come. and the next few chapters... ok don't say anything else. spoilers!

"I can follow the signal!" the Doctor shouted "teleporting always leaves a trace!" he danced around the console. "Molly was closest to me; I think I could get a lock on her!"
John and Clara held on for dear life as the TARDIS shook and twisted.

"Does this ever stop?" Shouted John

"Nope" answered Clara, a huge grin on her face.

"No, no, no, no!" Cried the Doctor.

"What's wrong?"

"they're stopping us landing! I need to delete a few rooms to give us an extra boost! Goodbye squash court 6!" he bellowed, pulling random leavers and twisting dials. Figures started to fade into the TARDIS.

"That's them" cried John happily. But it wasn't.

Molly was crying. She couldn't watch. She had a gun placed to her head, the world was ending, and the man she loved was in agony. She couldn't do anything. Then she heard it. The wonderfully familiar control room faded into existence around her. The only problem was, the Master was with her. With a loaded gun.

John's eyes widened when he saw who was with Molly.

"Doctor!"

"Activating holding cell!" the Doctor shouted. Molly was flung away from the Master as the cell was activated around him. John caught her and yelled in her ear

"where's Sherlock?!"

"He's outside, oh please, hurry, there almost through!"

John flew out of the TARDIS and was confronted with the horrible sight of Sherlock and the Axons, climbing through.

"Sherlock!"

Through a haze of pain and jumbled thoughts, John's shout reached Sherlock, locked away in his mind palace. It broke through the barriers Sherlock had put up to block the pain from his brain. He was still observing and his first thought was I am going to die. He heard the TARDIS. At least the people he loved would be safe. He had resigned himself to his death. But John's shout had broken through that. He would be lost without his blogger and John would be lost without his detective. For John. For Molly. He focused his brain on the trigger. If he really tried, he could control it.

If I can open it, I can close it

Slowly he could see it in his head. The huge gaping whole. He knew what he wanted. It wanted a story. So he told it a story. He poured his pain and grief and pain and loneliness into the hole. He looked back on his life and took all the bad things and all the sad things and filled up the hole with them. He let the pain and grief that had held him in its icy grip for so long, go. But the bad stuff wasn't enough. So he gave his love. The chases through London, the moments in the lab. He gave it all.

John watched in horror as the crack grew slowly wider. A blue light struck Sherlock's chest. I was like the electricity pinning his arms, but was a lighter, icier blue. The whole crack began to glow. I was slowly filling

"Come on Sherlock!" shouted John, somehow knowing that Sherlock was doing something, something that was winning. He heard movement behind him and knew the others had emerged behind him. They started shouting too, encouraging Sherlock. The blue light changed to gold, and the crack convulsed, somehow. The Axonite that had already emerged reared up. If it had a mouth John knew it would have been screaming. Then it was suddenly sucked back into the crack. The crack closed.

It was all over. The golden light shone for a few moments more, and then flickered away. Sherlock crumpled. They raced to him.

"Sherlock?"

"Sherlock can you hear me?"

"Sherlock, its Molly please, wake up!"

At Molly's voice, Sherlock's eyes fluttered and opened. He slowly sat up and said

"We did it"