Elysium: A Wholock

Chapter 7: And The Very Worst Of Times

If you're familiar with Time and Earth, my first book, I've decided to do a sequel/novella throughout Season 8 of Doctor Who! Anyways let's continue.....

Chapter 7: And The Very Worst of Times

"Well," Clara stated, "We've got Sherlock. Time to go," I nodded. I wanted to get back to Baker Street fast.  Compared to- whenever we are now-  modern times are definitely my preferred time frame.  We all exchanged hugs, Amy and the Doctor taking the longest.  They clung onto each other, the soft whimper of Amy clearly audible. 

When at last the two let go, we headed towards the TARDIS.  Sherlock was extremely surprised.  We strolled around the console with the likes of someone with nausea. For once, Sherlock seemed human.  "How is this possible, it's....," he trailed off. "Bigger on the inside?" the Doctor prompted. "Yeah, bigger on the inside," Sherlock agreed, though he didn't look happy to agree. 

"It looks different," Amy remarked,strolling inside. "I know, do you like it?" the Doctor asked energetically. Amy turned her head to the side, thinking.  "Meh, it's alright. Quite dark though," she reported. He made an exaggerated sad face. "It's still nice," Amy replied, laughing, sunlight hitting her flame red hair. It made her look like an angel.  And how knows, those probably existed too.

After who knows how many minutes the Doctor spent trying to convince Amy to say goodbye, we were set to go. Jesus, was I looking forward to Sherlock's face when he saw this. The Doctor activated the TARDIS by pulling a few levers, and the time match took off.

Or at least would've.

The TARDIS seemed to sputter, the light around us dimmed and it seemed that we remained in the same position. "It definitely works well, Doctor," Sherlock retorted. "Oh shut up," he scowled.  Clara and I exchanged glances.  We seemed to be the only two sane people on the machine.

Amelia poked her head through the doors. "Are you sure you're leaving? TARDIS isn't going?"

We all sat around in couches at Amy's house. It had begun to be cold, so she heated up a fire. I don't know how she did it, but it was better than I ever could have done.  Sherlock found some pajamas and a blue dressing gown, and sipped tea. I forgot how much he annoyed me sometimes.

"How could the TARDIS not work?" Clara asked, "Maybe whatever took us here doesn't work anymore," I suggested.  Sherlock scowled, "Oh don't be ridiculous!" The Doctor looked up to Sherlock. "Actually, John has a point," Sherlock looked down, embarrassed.  "The crack could have sealed when we passes through or maybe." "Sorry, did you say crack?" Sherlock asked. 

The Doctor nodded, "Yes, Sherlock, a crack," They were both clearly annoyed at each other. "I'll be upstairs if you need me," he stated simply and stomped upstairs.  "He's always doing that," I muttered. 

We were only a few minutes into our conversation when we heard the sound of brick cracking and cement ruining and the shattering glass. We set down our cups of tea before setting off to see what the commotion was. I wasn't worried. Sherlock often did things like this. He shot at the wall, and he put heads and other bodily parts in the fridge; I wouldn't be surprised if he took a sledgehammer to the wall. It would not be his weirdest moment.

Instead, Sherlock was on the floor, the TARDIS next to him. Somehow, the TARDIS had crashed through the window and hit Sherlock. "Oh my god," I muttered, before rushing over to him. I placed two fingers to his neck, checking for pulse- fine. So was his breathing and there appeared to be nothing less than a few bad bruises and one possible broken bone.

But, Sherlock being Sherlock woke up fast. "What happened-" "Sherlock, we have to take you downstairs," I told him, and turned towards the group, "I can't carry him in my own." They looked at each other like they had just woken from a trance. But they did help me once out. 

Not for the first time, I was grateful for my 'doctor' title.  "He should be alright," I stated. Clara let out a relieved sigh, "Thank God." She walked beside me, at Sherlock's beside.  "He's going to be OK?" she asked. I nodded, "His arm may have a slight break, but otherwise he's going to recover." Clara smiled. "He's quite something isn't he?" I looked at her, confused, "Do you mean- " No! As in intelligence. I don't know how he does it. It's amazing."

Sherlock stirred, "And hearing everything you're saying," he laughed softly. Instantly, he sat up, "Woah, Sherlock, you got hit by the TARDIS. That's a very hard object-" "I appreciate your concern John, but I'm fine. And trust me, Clara does mean what you thought. I could tell with my eyes closed and on the brink of unconsciousness."

Though she did not disagree, Clara muttered, "Now you're freaking me out."