A Study In Blink (A Wholock Crossover)

Chapter eighteen

If John were to describe Captain Jack Harkness in one word, well, he couldn't.

Flirtatious?  Daft yet brilliant?  Reckless?

He simply couldn't decide. All of his ideas to save the Doctor and Sherlock seemed like they would work in some action movie, but this was real life, as Sally and Lestrade constantly reminded Jack.

"Jack," Sally said, for what felt like the four hundredth time, "for the Doctor's sake, let's try and be serious."

"I'm always serious," Jack replied, while giving her a sideways wink and a Cheshire cat grin, "I'm a serious guy."

"Okay, can we have a focus point?" Lestrade asked, "what do we do first? Figure out this message? Try and break into this - TARDIS, or what?"

"I say we go to Torch Wood," said Jack, "there's a lot of alien technology we can use there."

"But what would we do with them?" Sally asked, "we don't know where the Doctor is, or when he is, and we don't know how we're going to get him, or why the angles got him."

"Jeez, you are one party pooper," muttered Jack. He pulled up his right sleeve to reveal a device that looked a bit like a Fitbit. "Vortex Manipulator," he said in response to John's look, "or, as I like to call it, easy and nasty time travel."

"Jack, you know that's not going to help us -" Sally started.

Jack silenced her with the tip of his finger. "Uh-uh, I won't have that dubious tone. I've known the Doctor for a long time, he keeps trying to throw me off but," he laughed, "who cares? If there's one thing I have to say about the Doctor it's this: he never knows what he's doing, not even a plan what-so-ever. Reckless and Daring is what he likes, and we're going to give him exactly that.

"Now, I don't know much of the Weeping Angels," he continued, pressing random buttons on his vortex manipulator, "but at Torchwood, we have entire files on aliens and alien technology. You never know, there might be one there too."

At the simple of a weeping angle, John carefully collected bravery crumbled into bits. He couldn't face one of those monsters again. Not after the events that had taken place today. Not after Sherlock.

His therapist, if she believed him, would've said that the fear of the Weeping Angels was not a fear in itself. But rather, a painful remembrance of what happened to his best friend.

Managing himself, John addressed Captain Jack, "do you mean we're going to see an angel again?"

Jack was still busy making adjustments to his "time machine".  "Not necessarily," he said, rolling up his left sleeve and once again tackling the manipulator. "The only good bit about Weeping Angels that I know of is that they're freakishly dangerous, so I doubt Torchwood managed to capture a live one. We do have a couple Sontarans, man they're difficult; a Slitheen, believe me his cage smells like hell; and a Zygon, with our security, we've lost him half a dozen times, don't even ask." He sighed, "man there's a lot of people out there against the Doctor."

Jack looked up from his work, "does that answer your question for you Doctor?"

"I suppose," said John stiffly, he was slightly annoyed by the way Captain Jack was calling him Doctor.

"Magnificent," Jack said with a winning smile. Just then, the vortex manipulator started beeping, and with each beep, the blue light grew bigger.

"Aha!" Jack said, "I think it's overloading!"

"How is that good news?" Lestrade shouted, referring to the maniacal grin plastered on Jack's face.

"I never said it was!" Jack shouted back, "grab hold everybody!"

John's eyes blurred as Sally, Lawrence, and Lestrade shoved their hands on Jack's wrist. He made a lunge towards the captain and barely caught hold of the massive pile of hands. As his fingertips found the burning surface of the time machine, John felt a sudden sense of disembodiment, as if all the atoms in his body had split apart and were floating in the space-time continuum. But the next second, he landed with a thud, his feet touching solid ground.

John disentangled himself from the mass of bodies, all out of breath and gasping. They all seemed to have experienced the same discomfort that he had. All except for Captain Jack, who for the most part, wasn't phased at all.

"Welcome," Jack gestured proudly, "to Torchwood."

John stared at the complex around him, turning around, taking in the entirety of the institution. From the mountainous machinery to the smallest of red and blue lights, glistening, it gave off an air of eeriness.

Only one thought occupied John's mind, as he turned back to his comrades.

"Let's save Sherlock."

Author's Notes:

I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in forever! Exactly half a year ago, I stepped foot in high school, and for the most part, it has been completely wonderful. I always tell myself that I'm going to write on the weekends, and even when I do write, I'm working on my novel. However, a few days ago, I checked my wattpad account, and read all of my stories, including this one. And I remembered how much fun they were to write, and how I've dropped that behind me. So here it is, chapter eighteen!

A massive thanks to all my readers for keeping me motivated! You guys rock!

Next chapter to come soon (I promise) Allons-y! :)

~Emma