Okay! Here's the next Chapter. But before we continue...
WARNING: THIS IS WHERE I DECIDED THAT THE STORY'S RATING SHOULD BE "T" AND NOT "K+"!
Things are gonna get a little creepy from this point on so please read with caution.
Also...
Thank you all so much for the reviews! They have motivated me a lot lately and I really appreciate them!
Now, onto the story! Enjoy!
(On a completely unrelated note: I WATCHED THE SHERLOCK CHRISTMAS SPECIAL! IT WAS AMAZING AND THERE WAS ANGST AND JOHN AND MYSTERY AND NOW I HAVE TO WAIT FOREVER TO SEE THE SEASON BUT THE SPECIAL WAS JUST SO FKJAHFKJLDKFJAKSJEIHF LADJKFUIEANLKDJFHAKLUEHLDJDHLFKAJHSLDKJHFLKAJDHHDJH DJHFAHDJ!)
Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock or Doctor Who
The Detective was pacing unsteadily back and forth through his flat under the watchful eye of "Mycroft". The stouter figure tensed and even reached out now and again when his patient nearly toppled over but all his efforts to help were turned down with a snarl on the part of the Detective. Finally, the Detective collapsed onto a chair, breathing hard. Mycroft rolled his eyes,
"You need help whether you like it or not." He said simply. Sherlock glanced at him.
"I've never needed help," he retorted in his stuck-up, teenager, drama-queen manner. Mycroft apparently didn't care.
"How much do you remember?" he drilled the younger. Sherlock gave an exaggerated sigh,
"I'm the Detective; I come from the planet Gallifrey and I'm a Time Lord. You are the remains of my crashed TARDIS which I obviously didn't crash enough because you can still talk." Sherlock listed.
"Good, what else?"
"I have been on earth since the mid eighteen-hundreds and I have a companion named Mullin." The Detective turned and looked at his TARDIS, "How is Mullin? Does she remember?" Mycroft nodded,
"Yes, she called while you were sleeping; she seems very excited to be back. I expect her any moment…in fact, that could be her rushing up the stairs like a herd of Oods." As he finished his statement the door was flung open and, with brown hair flying, Molly Hooper dashed into their presence. Her eyes darted to the curly-haired man in the chair.
"Detective!" she squealed and promptly hugged him. Sherlock looked both taken back and like he wished that he could sink into the chair. Finally, the excited woman released her grip. "I've been waiting for my shift to be up so I could come and see how you were." She explained with a huge smile spreading over her face, "Um, how are you?"
The Detective blinked before standing up slowly with a straight face but a new light shining in his eyes; a light that was cold and piercing.
"I'm fine." He said simply, "How are you coping, Mullin?" The woman's smile widened (if that was even possible).
"Oh, I'm just absolutely wonderful! You have no idea how good it is to hear my real name used again!" Sherlock allowed a quick, small smile to dance around his mouth,
"No, I really wouldn't since my real name hasn't been used for centuries. However, I'm much more interested in knowing if you have survived the process fully, change for me." He said in a coaxing manner. Molly stepped back eagerly and rolled her shoulders backward while tilting her head towards the ceiling. There was the sound like leaves rustling and a faint smell of something similar to smoke and there, where Molly had been, stood another Sherlock Holmes. The second Sherlock grinned and then turned slowly in a circle,
"Ta-da!" He said in a surprisingly feminine voice. The first Sherlock walked slowly around himself and inspected the duplicate.
"Can you take your original form?" He asked next. The second Sherlock went through the same process again and changed. Now there stood what was, without mistake, an alien. It had no facial hair that could be seen but smooth, silvery skin that seemed to be as bright as her personality. Her eyes were oval with three long black lashes coming out of the corners. Her figure was much like that of a human woman's and she still wore the clothes of Molly Hooper. The Detective smiled,
"Good, you may change back if you want too."
This Mullin did. She replaced her appearance with that of Molly Hooper before quickly saying,
"I have to get back to the lab now. I promised I'd be back in half an hour so I have to dash, but I'll see you later! Good-bye!" She called her farewell as she dashed back down the stairs and out the door. The Detective's smile disappeared as soon as the female did. He rolled his eyes and slumped back into his chair with a look of exhaustion. Mycroft shook his head,
"You need to rest." He stated, "I have to go back to Diogenes Club so be good and stay quiet." He pointed directly at Sherlock, "We have a mental link, remember. I will be checking up on you." The Detective raised his eyebrow.
"Is that supposed to scare me?" He asked nonchalantly.
"It should." Mycroft muttered as he vanished from the room. The Detective walked stiffly over the watch and picked it up. He looked at it carefully.
"You," he addressed it, "have caused a ton of trouble." He placed it in his dressing gown pocket and scanned the room for his phone. It was gone. "Of course Mycroft would take it." Sherlock muttered as he disappeared into his bedroom. He stripped his bathrobe off and flung it onto the bed. Then he donned his coat and scarf and left the flat.
It was only 25 minutes later that he stood in the hospital next to Mary. She was trying her hardest not to cry, "He opened his eyes for a moment and then he was gone again." She whispered as she looked at the sleeping man, "The doctors and nurses won't tell me what's going on; they act as if I'm invisible or like everyone's deaf."
Sherlock didn't answer. He moved silently along the side of the bed until he was looking directly into John's face. He said nothing, just stood there and looked. Mary turned and left the room to go and corner one of the doctors and demand to know what was happening. Sherlock didn't move for a few seconds.
"John, can you hear me?"
…
"John, can you hear me?"
John lifted his head and looked around; was that Sherlock?
"John, if you can hear me you have to do something to let me know. Can you hear me?"
That was Sherlock's voice! John stood up and looked around. "Sherlock! Yes, I can hear you! Get me out!"
"Can you hear me? John, you need to answer somehow!" Sherlock sounded almost desperate. John screamed at the top of his lungs,
"YES! I'M HERE! I CAN HEAR YOU!" Something told the army doctor, though that shouting wasn't going to be enough. He needed to send a message. So he closed his eyes and focused. Sherlock was there, Sherlock was going to get him out, and he was going to be free…
These thoughts penetrated his mind over and over again. His heart rate increased.
…
Sherlock turned to the monitors as they sped up. He turned back to his wounded soldier and smiled.
"That's fine, John. I know you can hear me. That's all I need from you; you can come home now." With this, the Detective placed his hands gently on either side of John's forehead, "Time to wake up."
…
John heard Sherlock saying that it was time to come home. He collapsed with joy. He was going home!
"Have a nice trip." Another voice hissed. A feeling of dread filled John as he turned to see his therapist stagger towards him. Her clothes were ripped and her face was torn; half of her face was hanging off to the side and another face peered out from behind it. The womanly hands reached up and clawed the rest of the first face off. Then the whole figure of the therapist fell away like cloth; in her place stood a man in a spotless, rumpled suite. He still looked weak but he smirked at John's fear.
"You...you…you…" Was all John could stammer.
"Yes," the man replied, "Me. Is it really that surprising, Dr. Watson? I mean, really; did you miss me that much?" He smiled again, "Sherlock misses you too, Johnny boy. So why don't you just wake up? You won't even know I'm here." Moriarity was suddenly right in front of him, "I promise."
…
Sherlock looked worriedly down into the face of his dying blogger, "Come on, John, for Mary…for me. Come on, wake up; you can do it." He muttered gently. Suddenly his face smoothed and he removed his hands from John's head. The army doctor's eyelids fluttered, "Mary!" Sherlock cried, "Mary! He's coming to!" Mary rushed in,
"John!" She called frantically, "John! Wake up, please!" There were a few seconds of silence in which the Detective could feel his whole body shaking with the pounding of his two hearts.
John's eyes opened and he looked from one face to another. Mary held her breath but Sherlock leaned forward,
"John?" The man turned to his best friend,
"Did you miss me?" He asked in a dry voice and let a small smile trace his lips. Sherlock let his whole body relax and his deep laugh filled the small room. Mary stood stock still with her face as white as a sheet; Sherlock quickly caught her as she collapsed to the ground sobbing. Sherlock soothed the woman and smiled at John,
"Yes, you've been out for five weeks. We've all missed you."
So there we go, John's awake, Sherlock's happy, Mary's crying buckets and buckets, and yeah. Merry Christmas! :)
~SimmonsButterflys