Lost Between Worlds

The Next Arrival

"Shit!" I shout angrily, the knot of fear tightening in my stomach. I storm out of the room and down the stairs, trying not to freak out. I hear groggy complaints behind me, but I keep going, grabbing John's coat on my way out. There's already an early-morning tint to the sky, which gives the street an almost magical feel.

I arrive next to the box in seconds. Balling my fist, I knock on the door. And it opens.

A rusted gold interior with green and blue lighting greets me as I step inside. I walk up the ramp and wander around the console. The golden pieces around it, I realise, look like coral, and the whole place overall has an organic feel to it.

I circle around to the screen on the console. It's flashing "WARNING ".

"Doctor?" I shout to the Timelord who's nowhere in sight. A faint whirring and dinging noise in the distance steadily increases. And there he is.

It's Ten - thankfully the one I know the most about. He's wearing his brown pinstripe suit - does that mean we're in the past? - with a brown tie with blue swirls on it and his red high top Converse. He's carrying a small handheld machine. When he notices me, he freezes.

He eyes me, wary.

"Um. Hi." He points the machine he's holding at me, then looks at me with wide eyes. The beeping speeds up.

"It's you."

"Yeah, hi." I raise my hand and give a small wave. He swallows, and his shoulders relax a bit.

"We should probably step outside. She really doesn't like it here, so she may take off before I have a chance to get out." He glances at the warning screen beside him.

"Good idea." He tilts his head and smiles at me, pleased that I seem to know what he's talking about.

"You're even better in person. Well, allons-y, then!" He speed walks past me and out the door, grabbing his coat as he walks out. I chase after him.

The scene that appears is pretty amazing, I will admit that. Sam and Dean are standing there, staring in awe and wondering where the police box had come from. Sherlock circles the box, peers in behind me, then circles it again. The Doctor throws on his coat without looking at his surroundings, then freezes. Then looks at me. Then looks around again, and back at me.

"It's..." he actually looks worried.

"Wait." I stare at him incredulously. "Do you know who these people are?"

"Of course! Who hasn't?" He briskly looks them over, smiling widely. "Well, the Winchesters aren't as widespread, but there's no doubt everyone knows the man who's been deemed the greatest detective to ever exist." Sherlock stops circling and raises an eyebrow.

"And John Watson, of course," he adds, gesturing to me.

"Actually, Doctor, that may actually be what brought you here. I'm not John." His face falls.

"I'm sorry, what? I'm afraid I don't understand." He pauses. "And I really don't like that."

"Doctor?" Sherlock speaks up.

"Yes?"

"That is your name?"

"Well, erm, yes."

"The word 'doctor' derives from the Latin verb docere, meaning "teach", but is now defined as a qualified practitioner of medicine. It does not make a stellar name." He looks at me as he says this, and everyone stares at him. I allow myself a small smile.

The Doctor just looks at him in his own way and says, "That's a good point, but I chose it myself. Our names are almost like a description of ourselves, rather than just a moniker. It's what we do in my culture."

Sam speaks up. "And where are you from? Your culture doesn't sound like any I've heard of."

"Gallifrey." He says it lightly, but there's a depressed undertone that is only noticeable if you know the character well enough.

"That in Ireland?" Dean asks, one eyebrow raised.

"Oh, I expect so," the Doctor says, with a small smile playing across his face.

"But you're not Irish?" Sherlock looks at him skeptically. The Doctor isn't sure on how to answer, knowing full well that he can't lie to Sherlock Holmes, the man who notices everything.

"Okay, enough questions for the Doctor for now," I say, trying to help. "We should probably head in anyway. It's getting a bit cold." They all suspect what I'm doing, but they go along with it.

"Yeah, it is," Sam chimes in.

"And I suppose you can explain that...?" Sherlock starts, gesturing to the box, then looks to the Doctor.

"T.A.R.D.I.S."

"T.A.R.D.I.S., then, to me later."

"Will do," the Doctor says happily.

As we walk up to the door and inside, the Doctor mumbles something, presumably about how it's the ACTUAL 221b. But then we hear a noise from the upstairs, and we freeze.

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Okay, so this is just one of my favourite youtube videos, and I felt the need to share since it relates to the idea of this chapter! Credits to John Smith on youtube for creating this masterpiece: