A Police Box on Baker Street

A Strange Encounter

Hey, everyone! This is my first Wholock fanfic, though I doubt it'll be my last. It also corresponds with my regular Sherlock fanfic, One More Miracle. So if you haven't read that already, do so, but you'll still be able to get the plot of this story. However, there are still a few hints that only readers of both stories will pick up on. Either way, enjoy! 

Chapter 1: The Doctor's Point of View (POV)

Brilliant. Just brilliant. I was alone. Again. I had lost Clara, for good this time. I had just figured her out, and then I had lost her. I couldn't even tell her what she was before the Daleks took her. They took her again, but permanently this time. There was no way to get her back. I had lost her.  

I sat on the steps of the TARDIS console room, grief welling up inside of me and threatening to spill over. I couldn't dwell on this. Every one of my friends had told me not to be alone; I only caused harm to myself when I was alone. I couldn't give up. I had to carry on. 

Half-heartedly, I stumbled up the rest of the stairs and took hold of the TARDIS's controls. "Well, at least I still have you...sexy." A smile played at the corner of my lips. As though it could feel my pain, the TARDIS whirred reassuringly. I patted the controls. It was time to fly again. 

"Take me somewhere that I'm needed," I said. "Take me somewhere where I can make a difference. I need a distraction, and helping people is a really good one." 

The TARDIS whirred, the glass cylinder in the middle moving its contents up and down rhythmically, the words in Gallifreyan rotating around and around. This machine knew me. It knew what was best for me. It had even told me once that it might not always take me where I want to go, but it would definitely take me where I needed to go. Now the question was: Where next? 

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Sherlock's  POV

"I THOUGHT YOU TRUSTED ME!" John yelled.

"I do trust you," I muttered, though it was barely audible. 

"What?" John asked, the annoyance in his voice blatantly obvious. At least he wasn't shouting any more. 

"I do trust you," I said again, this time loud enough for my flatmate to hear. 

"Then why haven't you been letting me go with you when you have a case anymore?" John demanded, his voice rising both in pitch and volume with each word. 

I couldn't tell John that I hadn't been taking him on cases with me because I was afraid he was still being hunted. We were still being hunted. I couldn't tell him that a mad man was after the both of us and bound to be near every crime scene, and that 221B Baker Street was the safest place for him. I couldn't tell him that I didn't want him near me because I was only trouble, though I couldn't bring myself to ask John to leave the flat, or move out myself. That would be too much. For me and for him. 

"I can't..." I began, but my voice trailed off mid-sentence. If only John knew the people that were after him....

John exhaled loudly, his cheeks inflating and then deflating as he did so. I could see that it was taking every ounce of restraint he had to keep from throwing something. His hands were clenched into fists; his muscles were tight as a wire. Instead he just rolled his eyes, and with an eerie calm that was worse than the shouting, asked, "You can't?" 

I shook my head in response, biting my bottom lip, my head pointed towards the ground. How do you begin to explain something so complex as this? How? I stood up to leave. 

"Where are you going?" John asked in the same voice a mother would use on a child caught trying to escape to avoid a lecture. 

"Out," I said. I tried to sound calm, but on the inside I was like John: on the verge of breaking something, if not breaking myself. I grabbed my scarf and coat from the rack on which they hung, wrapped the scarf around my neck, and walked down the stairs. I could tell that John hadn't moved -- I hadn't heard footsteps. I threw open the door and stepped out into the brisk London air that comes with autumn. The door swung shut behind me, and I leaned against it for a second, wondering where I should go from here.