The Unexpected Meeting of Two Geniuses

Chapter 12

Author's Note

Now, it may or may not get confusing. I'm still working with the plot but I have a pretty good idea of what I want but if it turns out confusing and horrible..I'm sorry!

Just a heads up :)

Thanks so much for 1.4k+ reads oh my goodness!!

-H

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Chapter Twelve

Rose's POV

Rose stood in the confined space, waiting for the moment when her torture and upgrade would be set in motion. She felt as though Moriarty had just spoken to her and that in seconds the machine would come alive with its skinning tools, but then other moments it felt as though he has spoken to her days ago and that maybe he had forgotten about her. Either way with her bad time sense, the upgrade was bound to happen.

The darkness around her made her feel small and trapped, more so than she already was, even she felt as though it was teasing her with its ability to mask the sharp tools that stand pointed at her head.

Her thoughts skipped to John, was he in the same position or..upgraded? She gulped down the possibility that such thing happened and now it could be her turn.

She shook away the thoughts and made her self think positive. Rose thought of The Doctor and their adventures, and even how close they had become. They had began to develop deeper feelings for each other besides friendship. Rose was aware of how cautious the Doctor was when it came to relationships and she wouldn't push it. She remembered when he took her on their 'second first date', The Doctor had finally managed to get then to Barcelona. These warm happy memories helped regain her strength, she would find a way out.

Nosies outside her confined space interrupted Rose's thoughts.

She wasn't sure but it seemed to be voices. One of the three she could detect was one she didn't recognize but it was low and monotone. The other was a unforgettable voice, Moriarty. She turned her head so she could listen to detect who the third voice was.

It was familiar. It took her a couple seconds to recognize it. It was him, here to save her, The Doctor.

She felt her hope regain fully, and she prepared to shout to get attention of The Doctor. He seemed to be close enough to hear her shouts, maybe?

A hum started to ring through the air and the voices were no longer able to be heard.

The machine was no longer off.

Rose held her breath, and her heart began to quicken with fear.

She took a deep inhale of air and slowly her chest fell as she exhaled through her nose.

She closed her eyes and embraced the oncoming pain.

But then she remembered something.

**

John's POV

Even in the dark John could feel the warmth of his sticky blood on his wrists. For ever how long he had been in the machine, waiting, he decided he wouldn't just stand helplessly. He was an Army Doctor, and he would figure a way out. John had tugged and pulled against his restraints, after a time of doing this the metal began to cut into his skin causing him to bleed. It stung at first but now John didn't even feel the pain. He kept at it, and would continue to do so until he escaped or died of blood loss.

'Where was Sherlock in all this?', was the main question on John's mind. Not that he needed rescuing, but John knew he was in one hell of a fight if he would do this on his own.

'Is Rose okay?', was the other big question. She had been on his mind a lot, not that he was attracted to her, but he couldn't allow a cruel fate to come upon her as long as he could've done something.

Cruel fate, he thought. So, this was how we was going to go if he couldn't escape. John was going to be turned into some empty metal can. His brain would be there, yes, but everything about him gone. His memories, his good looks (that's devilishly good looks, thanks), and everything human about him- every feeling and emotion gone. Sounds something Sherlock would enjoy.

'Sherlock', John thought and a smile spread across his face. John hoped that Moriarty was true to his words and sent Sherlock a video of just his little message. John had fully admitted, not only to himself, but to Sherlock that he did have feelings for him. Deep feelings, such as one many would call love.

That was if Sherlock received it. If not then John's last words would have been bitter words spoken out of anger, and nothing that he truly meant. This thought made John's smile fade and be replaced by a frown.

John pulled his arms fighting the restraints to be free, and he felt the cuts be reopened and now once more flowing with blood. He still didn't feel it.

This was it. He had failed. It really was happening and there wasn't a bloody thing to stop it. The machine was turning on and in moments he would be in enormous pain.

Nothing came and a faint slit of light shone through a thin crack in the door. What was happening?