Chapter Seventeen
"I need glue," the Doctor demanded, "Stat."
Jack handed it over and the Doctor swiftly applied it to the wound.
"We're losing him," Jack pointed out.
"No…we're…not."
"Doctor, it's too late!" Mycroft cried.
"It can't be too late," Sherlock pressed, "Doctor, you have to save him."
"Don't worry, Sherlock," the Doctor sharply said, "I'm not going to let him die on me."
"You do realize that you're all talking about a stuffed bear," River called out.
The four glanced up and Sherlock muttered, "We wouldn't even need to be doing this if you hadn't shot it with a blaster."
"In my defence," River calmly said, putting her hands up, "I was aiming for Jack. I don't know why there was a stuffed bear on the console, in the first place."
"I carried it out with me," Sherlock muttered, his cheeks reddening.
The plan had been simple enough. The food on the train had been great for throwing at one another but not so much for eating. Mycroft and Sherlock had entered the console room for a midnight snack. Four brownies, two cups of milk, and a blaster later found the brothers, Jack, and the Doctor standing around the destroyed bear. Stuffing fell out at odd intervals. The bowtie was nothing more than strands of loose string.
"Aww," River said, sounding slightly touched, "You sleep with a stuffed bear?"
"Not anymore," Sherlock sourly pointed out, "Murderer."
River laughed and exclaimed, "Yes. I admit it. I murdered your stuffed bear. I'll start serving my sentence as soon as I'm done serving the one for murdering my husband."
Sherlock nearly cracked a smile but still anxiously glanced down at the bear. The Doctor was attempting to glue the head back onto the body.
"Doctor, this isn't working," Jack repeated.
"Yes…it…is…" the Doctor grunted, just as the bear's head fell back off, "…isn't."
He sighed and sorrowfully said, "Sorry, Sherlock."
"It's alright," Sherlock disappointedly mumbled.
The Doctor gently led him back to bed but Mycroft stayed behind. When the Doctor returned, he, Mycroft, and Jack shot reprimanding glances at River.
"What?" River asked, innocently.
"You butchered my brother's bear," Mycroft accused.
"I'll buy him a new one," River said, shrugging it off.
"It wasn't the bear that was special," Mycroft quietly pointed out, "Sherlock will never admit it, but he loved the bear because it was a souvenir from the day that we officially became the Doctor's companions."
"Yes," River agreed, "Along with hundreds of other toys."
"They're special," Mycroft agreed, "But not the same."
"Alright," River sighed, "I'll make it up to him."
"Thanks," Mycroft mumbled, "And Doctor, I was wondering if you were planning anything for tomorrow…?"
The Doctor looked confused and asked, "Why would I be planning something?"
"It's Sherlock's birthday," Mycroft explained, slightly hurt that the Doctor didn't remember, "Birthdays have never been that fun at our house. Father basically just gave us money and acted like it was a normal day."
The Doctor made a strange growling noise.
"And so I was wondering if we could do something?" Mycroft asked, "I already got him a present but it would mean a lot to him if…"
"Sure," the Doctor absentmindedly said, "I'll try to think of something."
"Alright," Mycroft sighed, frowning at his indifferent tone, "Well…good night."
"Night, Mycroft," Jack offered.
"Don't let the alien parasites bite," River cheerfully added.
Mycroft tried to chuckle but couldn't pass it off. He trudged to the bedroom and glanced over at Sherlock. His brother was sound asleep, squeezing onto his spare pillow.
Mycroft then glanced at the clock.
12:01.
"Happy Birthday, Sherlock," Mycroft gently said.
He settled back, vowing to make Sherlock's birthday special. Even if he was working alone. Mycroft never thought that the Doctor could disappoint him. But as Vanessa had said earlier, there was a first time for everything.
Mycroft had just gotten to sleep when the door opened. The Doctor crept in before promptly tripping over a toy. He caught himself before checking on Sherlock. The Doctor tucked the loose blanket around the sleeping boy and ruffled his curls. He then snuck over to Mycroft's bed and smiled upon realizing that Mycroft was awake.
"What are you doing?" Mycroft yawned.
"Checking on the two of you."
"Why?"
The Doctor shrugged and explained, "It's 3:00."
As if this was normal. As if he had done this dozens of times.
Mycroft smiled and the Doctor returned it before kindly saying goodnight and leaving.
Mycroft realized that it didn't matter if Sherlock had a large party or presents. Simply being on the Tardis with Jack, River, and the Doctor would be good enough.
() () ()
"SHERLOCK, MYCROFT!"
Mycroft's eyes flew open at the Doctor's frantic shout.
"What's going on?" Sherlock cried.
"I dunno," Mycroft mumbled.
The last thing he needed was for the Doctor to be in trouble on Sherlock's birthday.
The two raced out into the console room.
Three shouts pierced the air.
"SURPRISE!"
"Blimey!" Sherlock cried.
"Bloody hell!" Mycroft spluttered.
"Mycroft, language," the Doctor gently said. Fortunately, he didn't seem that angry. He was beaming alongside Jack and River. The console was nearly unrecognizable behind the amount of balloons. A large cake sat on the table, next to several presents.
"Wow," Sherlock cried, unable to hide his excitement, "Thanks!"
"You knew," Mycroft whispered, "You knew all along."
"Of course I knew," the Doctor whispered back, "I've been planning this for weeks!"
"This means a lot," Mycroft admitted, even though it wasn't his birthday or his party.
"Well," the Doctor thoughtfully said, "It's not like it's just another day. It's special."
The five ate cake for breakfast and Sherlock eagerly asked, "Can I open my presents?"
"Sherlock," Mycroft reprimanded, "Manners."
Sherlock sighed and asked, "Can I please open my presents?"
"Sure," the Doctor laughed, "Here! This one's from Mycroft."
"It's not much," Mycroft mumbled as Sherlock opened it.
It was a sliding magnifier that zoomed up to 50x!
"Thanks, Mycroft!" Sherlock excitedly said. He even managed to hug his brother, albeit quickly and awkwardly.
"Oh, it was nothing," Mycroft modestly said.
Sherlock opened the present from Jack. It was his own vortex-manipulator.
"Wicked," Sherlock cried, "Can I try it?"
"No, no!" Jack quickly said, "You need training. That is, unless you want to end up tumbling around in a dark pocket of space?"
Sherlock looked thoughtful and the Doctor and Mycroft both flatly said, "No."
"Here you go," River said, handing over her present, "I was going to get you your own blaster but I just couldn't do that to Mycroft."
Sherlock accepted it, slightly curious. His jaw then dropped as he unwrapped his stuffed bear. He was speechless for a moment before softly saying, "Thanks, River."
"I'm not hugging you," River teased.
"Thank goodness for that," Sherlock sincerely said, "Hugging one person was enough."
The Doctor grinned as he handed Sherlock a small box. It was Sherlock's very own bowtie. The small boy laughed and the Doctor helped him put it on.
"Hello," Sherlock said, trying to imitate him, "I'm the Doctor. Bowties are cool."
The Doctor frowned and muttered, "I don't sound like that."
"Yeah, you do," River, Jack, and Mycroft chorused.
The Doctor stuck his tongue out before admitting, "Well, they are cool."
He straightened up and enthusiastically cried, "So, Sherlock! Today is your big day; a very special day! You get to choose where we go!"
Sherlock thought about it for a moment before asking, "Can we go to the London's Natural History Museum?"
"Sure," the Doctor exclaimed, "I'll take us forward twenty years. They've added a new wing…"
He hit a few buttons before suddenly shouting, "Wait…"
The Tardis violently shook and tumbled before coming to a crashing halt. The five were thrown off of their feet. The Doctor grabbed Sherlock and Mycroft. River managed to hold onto the console and Jack went tumbling back into the swimming pool room. He emerged, sopping wet and grumbling, "No, no. Don't worry about grabbing me."
"Sorry," the Doctor said with a sheepish grin.
"Doctor, what did you do?" River cried.
"I put in 20,000 years," the Doctor guiltily admitted, "Don't worry. I can fix it."
"Whoa," Sherlock cried, wrenching the door open.
"Sherlock, be careful," Mycroft warned before realizing what Sherlock was looking at.
The Tardis was in the ruins of the museum. Dust rained from the ceiling and debris was scattered down the corridors. Entire walls were missing and pillars were crumbled. Moss climbed up cracked exhibits and entire trees were growing. The air was thick and had an unsettling feeling.
"Can we explore it?" Sherlock asked.
"I don't see why not," the Doctor hesitantly said.
"This is cooler than the actual museum," Sherlock whispered as they exited.
"What do you think happened?" Jack wondered, carefully glancing at a broken exhibit of the solar system.
"20,000 years of wear and tear," the Doctor thoughtfully said.
"This is creepy," Mycroft whispered.
"This is cool," Sherlock corrected.
River blew dust from an exhibit and watched it completely crumble.
"Ssh," the Doctor suddenly said, "Do you hear that?"
"We can't all have Time Lord hearing," Jack teased before seeing that he meant business.
"Something's in the corridor ahead," the Doctor quietly said, stepping in front of the other four, "It almost sounds like…oh no."
"WHHHOO ARRREE YYOOUU?"
"Damn," River hissed, "Daleks."
"No way," Sherlock excitedly said.
Mycroft swallowed but still stared at the Dalek in wonder. He had read about them numerous times and was both excited and nervous. The excitement quickly left as he glanced at the Doctor. His eyes shone with hate and fury.
"M…maybe it's a friendly Dalek?" Mycroft suggested.
"EEXXXXTTTEERRRMMMIINNNAATTTEEE!"
"Nope," the Doctor quickly cried, "RUN!"
They somehow ended up splitting up.
The Doctor raced forward and leapt right over the Dalek, narrowly avoiding a beam. Jack and Sherlock raced down the left corridor. River and Mycroft ran down the right corridor.
Mycroft pressed himself against the wall and cried, "Look! Now you actually have a good reason to randomly shoot your blasters."
"You're not still mad at me?" River exasperatedly asked.
"You destroyed my brother's bear."
"Yes," River remarked, "So you've said. I also fixed his bear."
Mycroft still frowned but they were soon distracted by the Daleks as they came towards them. River pulled out her blaster and repeatedly shot them. The two ran down the corridor and realized that Daleks were coming out from different nooks and doorways.
River and Mycroft anxiously spun around, the former snapping, "Keep going. I'll hold them off."
"What?" Mycroft spluttered, "River…"
"Just go."
"River, I can't just…"
"GO!"
She gave him a wide-eyed and stern look and he hesitated before running on. He heard the sounds of the blaster and ripping metal. Mycroft ducked into the remains of a bathroom to catch his breath. He tried to recall everything that he knew about the Daleks.
They had gunsticks. That shot lethal beams. Mycroft glanced up and saw a dusty and cracked mirror on the wall. It was better than nothing. He ripped it off and anxiously held it in front of him as he crept on.
Unfortunately, if one was being attacked by Daleks, the least opportune place to do so might be the ruins of a museum. Shadows bounced on the piles of rock and debris. Water dripped and the pipes creaked.
Mycroft's corridor finally yielded with the main corridor. The Doctor was ahead, wearily glancing around. He didn't see the Dalek that was creeping up behind him.
Mycroft ran forward, coming in between the two and screaming, "Doctor, look out!"
A flash of light briefly dissolved the shadows. Mycroft felt a shooting pain hit his stomach. He didn't quite understand but he found himself collapsing.
"MYCROFT!"
The Doctor was immediately at his side. The Dalek raised its gunstick once again and the Doctor quickly held up the mirror. The beam reflected off of it and hit the Dalek. The Doctor hardly paid attention to the anguished sound of ripping metal or the small explosion. He knelt down next to Mycroft, who was slowly slipping away.
"Mycroft," the Doctor said, cupping his companion's face, "Mycroft, can you hear me?"
Mycroft tried to speak but it came out as a groan.
"Alright," the Doctor continued, "It's alright. It's going to be alright, Mycroft. Let's just get you back to the Tardis."
Mycroft nodded, and attempted to stand up. As soon as he moved, however, he let out an anguished cry of pain and crumpled against the Doctor.
"Sorry," Mycroft gasped.
"Don't be," the Doctor quickly said, "Don't be sorry. You were brilliant. You were absolutely brilliant. Now, come along. We'll go back to the Tardis and we can…"
"I was supposed to protect him," Mycroft grunted, "She told me to protect Sherlock. I promised her…that…I wouldn't let anything happen to him…"
The Doctor's eyes sparkled for a moment but he hastily said, "Okay Mycroft, shut up for a minute. Just shut up. I'm trying to save you."
The Doctor frantically thought for a second and when he looked back down he was horrified to see that Mycroft's eyes were closed.
"You know what?" the Doctor anxiously cried, "On second thought, keep talking! Come on, Mycroft! Talk to me; say something!"
"Mycroft?"
Sherlock and Jack were coming up the corridor. Jack took one look at the Doctor, realized the situation, and softly whispered, "No."
"Jack, what's he doing?" Sherlock anxiously asked, "Why's Mycroft on the ground?"
He glanced up at Jack for answers and was shocked to see that Jack was pale and his lips were thin. Sherlock's heart immediately sank as he looked back to his brother. Despite what many people would believe, Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant child. He was able to deduce any situation, even if he didn't want to.
"NO!" Sherlock screamed, running to his brother, "Mycroft!"
He abandoned all reason and threw himself onto his brother's body. Mycroft's chest still rose and fell but he wasn't answering Sherlock.
Why wasn't he answering? This wasn't funny. This was a nasty trick. Sherlock anxiously shook Mycroft and yelled his name. It was a horrible, nasty, trick.
It took both the Doctor and Jack to pry him away.
"Save him!" Sherlock pleaded, "Doctor, please! You have to save him!"
The Doctor hesitated for a minute before closing his eyes and saying, "Sherlock, I need you to step back."
"Doctor," Jack slowly said, "What are you doing?"
The Doctor opened his eyes and Jack and Sherlock both saw a look of cold determination. Jack groaned but grabbed Sherlock's hand and pulled him away. Sherlock put up a good fight but Jack was much stronger. He gently but firmly put his arm around Sherlock's stomach, restraining him from going back to his brother. The Doctor turned back to Mycroft and put his hand on the still boy's chest. A golden light swirled around them, causing Sherlock to stop fighting and stare in wonder.
"What's going on?" River cried, racing up to join them.
"Mycroft…" Sherlock managed.
River's eyes widened and she groaned, "Oh no. Wait…"
She stared at the Doctor and slowly asked, "What is he doing?"
Jack used one arm to hold Sherlock back and the other to squeeze River's arm as he quietly said, "He's saving Mycroft."
River nodded but still looked worried. Jack looked anxious, relieved, and upset. Sherlock looked away and only turned back when he heard a familiar voice whisper, "Sherlock?"
Mycroft was slowly standing up. He was immediately knocked back as his brother literally leapt onto him. Mycroft laughed and returned the tight hug before glancing up as he realized that Jack and River weren't there to greet him from near-death. Instead, they were worriedly crouching next to the Doctor, who was kneeling on all fours.
"Jack?" Mycroft slowly asked, "River, is he alright?"
Mycroft slowly stood up but didn't let go of Sherlock.
"What's going on?" Sherlock asked, frightened, "He's okay, isn't he?"
Jack gave them a sad smile and the two stood up just as the Doctor collapsed.
"Doctor!"
Mycroft's scream echoed through the entire neighborhood. Sherlock leapt from his arms and attempted to run to the Time Lord. Jack quickly pulled the two boys away.
"Stop," Jack grunted, "Boys, stop! It's not…stop! You can't do anything!"
"Help him!" Mycroft shrieked, "You have to help him!"
"It's too late for that. Boys, I'm so sorry."
Sherlock dissolved into tears. Tears blurred Mycroft's own vision but River crouched down and gently said, "Hey, it's alright. Don't worry. He'll be alright."
"I tried to save him," Mycroft whispered, "And he still ended up…it's my fault…"
"Mycroft," River quietly said, "He can regenerate. You can't."
"He'll come back," Jack agreed, "The Doctor always comes back."
Mycroft swallowed and managed to nod. Sherlock still looked crestfallen and Jack reached out and hugged him.
"It's okay," Jack quietly said, "He'll come back. The Doctor always comes back."
A glowing light was spreading around the Doctor's body. Sherlock silently noted that it was the same glowing light as before. Sherlock, Mycroft, River, and Jack pensively watched as it completely engulfed the Doctor. They shielded their eyes and felt a huge surge of power hit them. Jack managed to catch them before they flew back into the wall. When the four looked up, they saw that the Doctor was still lying on the ground. He didn't look any different.
"What?" Jack cried, his bravado crashing, "That's it? That can't be it. Doctor!"
The four raced over and knelt down next to the Time Lord. All of a sudden, his eyes flew open. Sherlock and Mycroft leapt back with a terrified cry. The Doctor chuckled and weakly sat up before apologizing, "Sorry about that."
River looked horrified as she cried, "You used your regeneration energy to heal yourself?"
"I wasn't completely dead," the Doctor replied, looking winded, "Just exhausted from helping Mycroft."
"You idiot," River said, though her anger melted into relief.
"I know," the Doctor panted, "It's alright. I'm alright."
He glanced up and suddenly beamed, "Mycroft! You're looking pretty good for someone who just had a run in with a Dalek gunstick!"
"Yes, how did the Dalek get you?" Sherlock curiously asked.
"I'll tell you how," the Doctor excitedly cried, leaping up, "Sherlock, your brother is a hero! He leapt in front of the Dalek to save me. I owe him my life."
"I owe you mine," Mycroft praised, "Only did you tell me to shut up when I was dying?"
The Doctor's smile froze and he meagerly said, "No."
Mycroft raised an eyebrow and the Doctor mumbled, "Stop living in the past, Mycroft!"
Mycroft merely grinned and rolled his eyes.
"When I get my hands on those Daleks," River growled.
The Doctor stood up and leaned against Jack for support and wheezed, "Actually, I don't think that we should do anything."
River stared at him and sharply asked, "Are you sure that part of your mind didn't regenerate?"
"I'm serious," the Doctor quietly said, "They're not doing anything wrong."
"They nearly killed Mycroft," Sherlock pointed out.
"Because we invaded their home," the Doctor explained.
"Home?" Jack scoffed.
The Doctor nodded and said, "They're using this building as their home. London is basically gone. It's nothing more than ruins. They're not harming anyone. They're not trying to take over the world. They're just…here. What could come from fighting them?"
"I thought that we didn't run away from a fight," Sherlock muttered.
"We're not running away," the Doctor slowly said, "We're choosing our battles."
Sherlock nodded and the five quickly hurried back to the Tardis. Jack supported the Doctor and River and Sherlock supported Mycroft. Once inside, the Doctor and Mycroft both collapsed onto the couch, the former sleepily saying, "Sherlock, push a button. Any button. No, not that button! Yep, that button. That's good."
River went over to help navigate.
Mycroft's entire body pulsed with pain. He glanced over to see how the Doctor was doing and was surprised to see that he looked upset.
"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked, also seeing the look.
"I just feel bad," the Doctor admitted, "I wanted you to have fun on your birthday."
"Are you joking?" Sherlock cried, his eyes wild with adventure, "You threw me a party, I had cake for breakfast and presents, I got to explore the ruins of a museum, I got to see a Dalek, I got to watch my brother be a hero…"
"I'm not a hero," Mycroft modestly interjected.
Sherlock loudly continued, "This is the least boring birthday that I've ever had!"
He then frowned as he saw how sore and tired the Doctor and Mycroft were.
"Hey," Jack quickly said , "Your birthday isn't over yet. Why don't we play a game?"
"Like what?" Sherlock eagerly asked.
"Hide, Seek, and Blast!" River suggested.
The Doctor and Mycroft wearily but amusedly watched as the three raced around, hiding and blasting one another. Jack ended up collapsing in pain, clutching between his legs, courtesy of a well-aimed shot from River. She then tried to blast around Sherlock's feet. Sherlock bounced out of the way, sticking out his tongue. He then tripped over his stuffed bear, falling and slamming his elbow onto the console. Mycroft went to stand up but River reached him first. She pulled Sherlock to his feet and handed him the bear.
"I was wrong," Mycroft whispered.
"I never thought that I'd hear a Holmes say that," the Doctor admitted, "About what?"
"River," Mycroft softly continued, "I was shocked when I read The Forest of the Dead and you said that she was going to end up taking care of the children. But…she's going to be a good mother."
The Doctor grinned as the two watched as River chased after Sherlock, attempting to blast him.
"She's going to be an excellent mother," the Doctor sincerely agreed.
"Doctor, thanks," Mycroft added, "Thanks for this."
The Doctor laughed and said, "For what? For giving Sherlock a birthday?"
Mycroft sheepishly nodded and the Doctor calmly said, "Mycroft, you never have to thank me."