The Doctor and the Detective [WHOLOCK]

Chapter Twelve

A/N: Penultimate chapter, guys!

The Doctor and his companion were back in Bude. An uneasy atmosphere surrounded them. The Doctor had battled many aliens and monsters, but this was by far the most dangerous thing he'd ever done.

"Sherlock," The Doctor said with no intonation. "It is extremely important that you listen to me right now. From your research, you're probably aware of the perilous situations that I often get myself into. However, this is the most risky encounter that I will probably ever face."

"We're going back on our own time streams: something that would put me in a lot of trouble with the Gallifreyan High Council, especially since there's a death involved. All we need to do is stop you from killing Moran. We cannot let our past selves see us, and most of all, they cannot touch us."

"Why not?" the detective asked inquisitively.

"Because a paradox would be created- a tear in the fabric of reality. And let's just say, the universe collapsing would be a result of me and you."

"We could take my gun," Sherlock suggested proudly.

"And that's why you're England's smartest!"

"But how are we going to do it slyly?"

"Your coat," The Doctor smirked! Sherlock couldn't quite figure out how the alien had worked it out before he did, but it happened nevertheless.

"Of course!" Sherlock cheered. "I left it in the TARDIS."

"All we have to do is take your gun and swap it with this one," The Doctor said, pulling a gun out of his inside pocket. "It's a cigarette lighter."

"Sounds like a plan!"

The two men made their way out of the TARDIS and snuck over to an evergreen bush. The hedge high enough for them to see over, but not so tall that their faces were revealed.

"There we are," The Doctor, whispered, his eyes piercing his past self. "Does my hair really look like that?"

"Of all the things you could comment on, you comment on your hair? What about your ridiculous bow-tie?" Sherlock laughed, expecting his new acquaintance to laugh along with him.

"Bow ties are cool," The Doctor spoke with prodigious seriousness, filling the air with an awkward silence.

"Ugh," Sherlock remarked, a repulsive presence rolling over his face like the thick, black smoke that would pour out of a volcano after its eruption. "Moriarty."

"Now your chance, Sherlock. Go and swap the guns."

"Why do I have to do it?"

"Do you want to see John again?"

Sherlock thought for a moment before answering. Of course he wanted to see John, but how could he after his experience in the restaurant. He remembered how his heart sank when his flatmate couldn't recall who he was, and the way his throat seemed to close up. But then he remembered the John that stood and watching him commit suicide- the John that cried and shouted for him to come down, the John that would have done anything to save his life.

"More than anything," Sherlock stated before running off to the time machine.

Sherlock approached the TARDIS with complete caution- after ignoring The Doctor's instructions once, he didn't want to do it again. The coast was clear, so he crept towards the box as if the ground he stood upon would creak stridently if too much weight was applied to it.

Once inside, Sherlock walked over to the chair on which he had left his coat upon. He was just about to slip the 'fake' gun into his pocket when he heard the door squeak open. He leapt down the stairs and hid under the metal gating that acted as a floor to the console area.

"Doctor," he heard his other self say. "Who was that man? Not Moriarty, obviously, I know him. But the other one?"

Suddenly, Sherlock understood the inconvenience that lay before him. Sherlock was to shoot Moran in less than one minute. He had to think of a distraction; and fast. Out of instinct, he let out colossal sneeze.

"Did you hear that?" The 'past' Doctor asked in a confused manner. "It sounded like it came from under the console."

Sherlock watched as the two men began to descend the foreign-looking steps that would lead them directly to where he was hiding.

Then, Sherlock did the only thing that he could think of: he went into his mind palace. He barred his eyes shut and pressed his fingers onto his temples. He ran around the hallways of his palace with breathless anticipation until he came across an ancient door, painted a dark blue colour. He hurried into the room to find towering walls daubed with blue prints; blue prints of the TARDIS. Inside he had a layout of the time machine, and so he planned an escape route.

Once he was back to reality, Sherlock zoomed through vast, distorted corridors for what seemed like hours. Each passage looked identical to the last- the walls and floors seemed to form an extra-terrestrial labyrinth. Eventually, he made his way back to the console. He quickly swapped the guns and ran back out the meet The Doctor.

"You really need to work on the layout of your vehicle," Sherlock joked as he approached the Time Lord.

"Well, she is quite stubborn!" The Doctor laughed, before pausing to create a moment of comfortable silence. "I take it your succeeded in your mission."

"Obviously," Sherlock remarked. How could anyone ever doubt him?

"The let's go and see if it worked," The Doctor said, beginning to wander off back to his vessel. But before he could continue, Sherlock had grabbed his arm.

"What do you mean 'if'," Sherlock asked, thwarted.

"I have no way of guaranteeing John's memory to be as it was before all of this happening. Bad things happen to humans that meddle with time, Sherlock." The Doctor could tell that Sherlock was very anxious, in fact, in was almost shaking with dread.

"And if it doesn't work?"

"Then you can carry on travelling with me. Whatever we do now, we do together."