Solar System: A Sherlock and Doctor Who Crossover

Home Again

Sherlock giggled again.  The two were back in the TARDIS, the helmets of their space suits removed.  The Doctor was fiddling with the control panel, deciding where to go next.  Sherlock had held up his side of the bargain; he listened to everything The Doctor taught him about Mars, including the things he was almost certain hadn't been taught to Sherlock in school.  And Sherlock had seemed to find the whole thing absolutely fascinating, his mouth wide open as he gazed around him and took in every word the Doctor had said.  

"So, Sherlock, are you sure you know everything about Mars that I told you?" the Doctor asked, since the whole point of his visit to the Holmes residence was to educate Sherlock so he wasn't completely failing space science anymore.  Sherlock was a very smart boy, and he wouldn't enjoy not doing well in school because of one subject.

Sherlock sighed.  "Yes, Doctor, I'm sure that I know everything.  Haven't we already been over all of this?"  He began to recite the lesson the Doctor had given him from memory, further impressing the Doctor.  He had seen a lot, so not much surprised him these days, but this little kid would never stop amazing him with his mind. 

"Brilliant, simply brilliant!  So, where do you want to go next?  The future?  The past?  What planet?"  The Doctor grabbed hold of a lever on the TARDIS and waited expectantly for Sherlock's answer.  He was expecting him to say something exciting, something fun.  The last thing he was expecting Sherlock to do was clear his throat loudly and hesitantly.

"Well, urm," Sherlock stuttered, "Could you take me home?"

"What?  Didn't you say before that you wanted to go to the past?  C'mon, Sherlock, don't you want to see the stars?  Anywhere in time and space, anywhere you choose.  What'll it be?"

"Home, please." Sherlock looked practically green.  

What's wrong? the Doctor thought, He was just fine a minute ago, laughing and giggling like the little kid he is.  What happened?

"It's just, you know, I just remembered, we're really far into the future, aren't we?  So doesn't that mean that everyone I know is gone?  Long gone.  Mum, Dad, Mycroft, all of my classmates, they're all gone.  It's a lot to deal with, you know."

The Doctor nearly slapped himself.  Most kids Sherlock's age wouldn't even consider this, but of course, Sherlock, the wheels in his brain always turning, would think of this and be bothered by it.  "Of course, I'm sorry, oh, I'm so sorry,"

"It's okay, Doctor," Sherlock replied timidly, "But if it wouldn't be any trouble, could you take me home?"

I bet his brother would be astounded to here him use manners like that, the Doctor thought and pushed a few buttons and pulled a few levers and they were off, the TARDIS making its usual wheezing sound.

 Sherlock was silent during the journey, which the Doctor wasn't used to.  He was used to jabbering and mindless banter from all of the people he had travelled with, since they usually couldn't stop talking about what they had just seen or done.  Absolute silence was a new one for him.  Luckily, the travel time wasn't very long and before he knew it, he was landing the TARDIS outside the lawn of the Holmes' residence.  

With an awkward pause, Sherlock walked towards the door and pulled it open.  He stood in the doorway for a minute, then finally murmured, "Well, bye," and turned his back on the Doctor.  

The Doctor was still mentally kicking himself at how stupid he was.  "See you around." Sherlock closed the door, and the Doctor flew off into the future (or maybe the past.  He never did know what was going to go wrong with the TARDIS).  

Sherlock stood alone on his front lawn.  Part of him was relieved that he had come home to where everyone he knew was alive and well, but part of him wanted to leap after the TARDIS and shout, "Wait!  Don't leave me behind!"

The front door opened behind him, and Mycroft stood beneath the doorframe.  "Sherlock?  Where's Mr. Smith?  You've been out here nearly fifteen minutes."

Sherlock bit back a smile.  If only Mycroft knew.  But Sherlock knew he couldn't tell him.  If he told him, Mycroft wouldn't believe him or he would snort and complain about how childish that was, and what made Sherlock so special anyway?

Even though he knew he shouldn't, Sherlock waited.  He waited for days, weeks, even months, hoping with all his heart that the Doctor would return.  But he knew he wouldn't.  Sherlock had practically forced him to turn his ship around and bring him home, so what would make him come back?

He did come back.  After two years, the Doctor came back.  Sherlock had been walking home from school, and he had made it to the front door when he heard it.  The terrible, wheezing noise the TARDIS made.  He threw his bag through the door, grabbed Redbeard, and dashed out the door.